Chapter 248
Claire's POV
I walked into Reynolds Real Estate Group's headquarters at exactly nine a.m., my heels clicking against the marble with the kind of confidence I'd spent years perfecting. The receptionist glanced up, recognized me immediately, and straightened in her chair.
"Miss Vanderbilt," she said, her smile professional but wary. "Mr. Reynolds is expecting you?"
"He should be," I replied coolly, though Lucas and I hadn't actually discussed my coming here today.
But after last night's excruciating dinner with his mother—two hours of thinly veiled criticism about my family's declining social status—I'd decided I needed to establish my place in Lucas's life more firmly.
Starting with an office. Right here. Where I could keep an eye on him.
The receptionist made a quick call, then nodded. "You can go up."
I took the elevator to the executive floor, my stomach tight with anticipation.
I pushed through the double doors and stepped into the space that would soon be as much mine as his.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, the autumn sun casting everything in shades of amber.
Lucas sat behind his massive desk, a stack of documents spread before him, his reading glasses perched on his nose.
He looked up when I entered, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he didn't speak. Just watched me with that cool, assessing gaze I both loved and hated.
"Claire," he said finally, removing his glasses. "I wasn't expecting you this morning."
"I thought we should discuss my new role here," I replied smoothly, settling into one of the leather chairs across from his desk. "I want to work here, Lucas. With you."
His expression darkened, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "Claire, this is my business. I don't think—"
"We're engaged," I interrupted, keeping my voice level despite the flash of irritation in his eyes. "It makes perfect sense for me to be involved in your company. I have an MBA from Wharton, remember? I'm not some decorative accessory."
Lucas set down his pen with deliberate precision, his fingers drumming once against the mahogany surface. "This isn't a discussion we should be having here."
"Where else would we have it?" I stood and moved around the desk, trailing my fingers along the polished wood. "Besides, I've already made up my mind. I'm not asking for permission, Lucas. I'm telling you what's going to happen."
The silence stretched between us, tense and charged. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly in resignation.
"Fine," he said, his voice clipped. "But you'll follow my rules. This is still my company."
I smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. "Of course. I wouldn't dream of overstepping."
"Where is Sophia, by the way?" I asked, straightening. "Isn't she your personal secretary? Why didn't I see her when I came up?"
Something flickered across his face—too quick to read—but his voice remained neutral. "Her position has been terminated."
My heart leapt. "So she's really gone? Just like that?"
"She wasn't particularly useful," he said, his tone dismissive as he straightened the papers on his desk with precise, controlled movements. "I saw no reason to keep her around."
I leaned forward slightly, trying to read his expression. "Where did she go?"
"I don't keep track of former employees' whereabouts." He picked up a pen, tapping it once against the mahogany surface—a small tell that meant he was irritated with the line of questioning.
"And the baby?" I asked, keeping my voice carefully neutral.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, the muscle jumping beneath his skin. "I had it handled."
I felt a smile tugging at my lips, though I forced it down. This was a victory, but I couldn't afford to look too pleased. Not when Lucas was watching me with those calculating eyes, his fingers still tapping that pen in a rhythm.
"I'm glad," I said carefully. "That must have been difficult for you."
He said nothing, just set the pen down with deliberate precision and leaned back in his chair. The slight stiffness in his shoulders told me he didn't want to discuss this further.
"I want to use Sophia's old workspace," I announced, watching his reaction carefully.
Lucas looked up at me, his expression unreadable. "She's not here anymore. If you want to move into her position, naturally there's no problem with that."
I reached him and looped my arms around his neck, leaning down to press a kiss against his mouth. But Lucas turned his head slightly, avoiding my lips, and instead pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek.
"Don't worry," he murmured against my skin, his voice low and reassuring. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."
The way every muscle in his body seemed locked tight, contradicting the gentleness of his promise.
"I see, Lucas," I continued, straightening slightly but keeping my arms around him. "I understand how these things happen. What matters is that you came back to me. That you chose us."
"Claire." His voice carried a warning edge, and his hands then moved—but only to grip my wrists and gently but firmly remove my arms from around his neck.
"I know, I know," I replied, stepping back. "You have work to do. I'll get out of your hair."
I moved toward the door, already planning my next move. I'd claim Sophia's old space, make it mine, start inserting myself into every corner of his professional life.
But first, I needed to be absolutely certain Sophia was really gone.
---
By noon, I'd settled into what had been Sophia's workspace—a sleek desk near the floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the city skyline. Lucas had shown me to the space himself, his expression carefully neutral as he'd pointed out the filing systems and computer access.
A few of the junior associates had already stopped by to introduce themselves, their smiles just a little too wide, their compliments just a little too effusive. They could smell the power shift, and they wanted to make sure they were on the right side of it.
"It's so nice to have some fresh energy in the office," one of them—a blonde woman named Ashley—gushed, perching on the edge of my desk. "Between you and me, Sophia was always a bit… difficult."
"Was she?" I asked, feigning polite interest while I logged into the computer system.
"Oh, absolutely. Always so serious, you know? Never wanted to grab drinks after work or join us for lunch. Some of us wondered if she even liked working here." Ashley leaned in conspiratorially. "Honestly, when she just disappeared without notice, we weren't that surprised."
I filed that information away. So Lucas had told people she'd quit without notice. Interesting.
"Well," I said with a practiced smile, "I'm sure she's much happier wherever she ended up."
Ashley nodded eagerly, then launched into office gossip I pretended to care about. When she finally left, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found the number I was looking for.
I'd hired private investigators before—discreet, expensive, and very good at finding things people wanted to keep hidden. The kind of people who didn't ask questions as long as the money was right.
I typed out a brief message:
[Need a locate and surveil. Target: Sophia Cruz. Last known employment: Reynolds Real Estate Group, NYC. Compensation negotiable. Discretion essential.]
I hit send and set the phone aside, feeling that familiar thrill of taking control. Because the truth was, I didn't believe for a second that Lucas had simply let Sophia disappear.
He'd said he'd "handled" it. But I needed to know exactly what that meant.
My phone buzzed almost immediately. A response from the investigator:
Understood. Will have preliminary report within 48 hours.
I smiled and slipped the phone back into my purse, then turned my attention to the stack of files—projects Sophia had been working on before her sudden "departure."
Two days. I could wait two days to find out the truth.
After all, I'd waited years to become his fiancée. What was a little longer to make absolutely sure I wasn't sharing that title—or his attention—with anyone else?
I opened the first file and got to work, already planning exactly what I'd do if I found out Lucas had lied to me.