Chapter 40 Chapter 40

Chapter 40 Chapter 40
Valentina

Morning came too quickly. I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of my blouse for the third time. Today was the contract signing.

Ambrose hadn't said it directly to me, but I wasn't foolish. After what Lucien told me last night, I knew exactly what today was meant to be.

A trap dressed up as paperwork. I hadn't seen Ambrose since he shouted at me. Since his fingers dug into my wrist and his voice cut through me like a blade. Part of me was relieved. The other part was unsettled by the silence.

Men like him didn't forget. I adjusted my earrings slowly, trying to steady the nervous tremor in my hands.

Lucien's voice replayed in my head.

You stall. Ask questions. Request revisions. Look at me.

Truth be told, I was nervous.

No — I was scared.

What if things didn't go according to plan? What if Ambrose cornered me publicly the way Lucien predicted? What if my voice shook? What if I failed?

I inhaled deeply. This isn't about you. It's about the girls.

Their faces  even though I hadn't seen them lingered in my mind. The idea of them being moved like cargo from one country to another made my stomach twist.

I had to do this. Lucien was already working to delay the transfer. That meant something. It meant he wasn't heartless.

He wasn't his father. He had a heart. Last night proved that.

And if we made it back to New York, I would go to my own father. I would look him in the eye and ask him the question that had been burning inside me.

Did you know? Did you know what kind of empire you were tying me to when you gave me away? Or were you blind too? I picked up my phone, squared my shoulders, and walked out of the room.

The hallway felt longer than usual. I paused for a second outside the elevator, taking a steadying breath.

You can do this. When the doors opened, I stepped inside. By the time I reached the conference level, my palms were damp.

The doors to the conference room stood open.

Lucien was already there. He sat near the head of the table, composed as ever, dark suit immaculate, expression unreadable. But when his eyes lifted and met mine, something in his gaze softened for a fraction of a second.

I held onto that. The same men from the last meeting were present suits, polished shoes, calculating eyes.

And the two women. They were seated to the right, elegant and poised, but when their gazes landed on me, it wasn't neutrality I saw.

It was disdain. Cold. Dismissive.

I wondered if they had daughters. Sisters. Did they not have children? Did they not imagine what it would feel like to have someone move them across borders like inventory?

Or had they simply learned to look away?

I walked in calmly, refusing to let the tension show. Lucien's gaze followed me to my seat. And I knew one way or another today would change or destroy something. 

The hum of conversation stopped abruptly as the double doors opened. Ambrose stepped in, tall, commanding, his presence alone enough to pull the room into a rigid order. Chairs scraped lightly against the polished floor as every man and Lucien stood in unison.

I followed suit, forcing my spine straight, my hands folded neatly in front of me, though my palms were slick with nerves.

"Good morning," Ambrose said, his voice smooth, coldly pleasant. He took his seat at the head of the table. The room seemed to lean forward with him, waiting, silent.

He turned slightly toward me, just enough for his voice to drop to a whisper.

"Valentina... behave yourself," he murmured, just loud enough for my ears alone.

I swallowed, nodding slightly, and my eyes flicked nervously to Lucien. His gaze met mine, steady and reassuring, and he gave the smallest, almost imperceptible nod. My chest eased slightly.

Moments later, my phone vibrated in my hand. A text from Lucien: Don't worry. I have everything under control.

I exhaled quietly, tucking the phone away, letting myself lean on that reassurance.

Ambrose cleared his throat, straightening his cuffs, and the meeting began.

"Gentlemen," he started, voice crisp, "we're here to finalize the European compliance agreements for our import operations. As you all know, timing and paperwork are crucial. Any deviation could result in inspections, delays, or legal complications."

One of the men adjusted his tie, sliding a folder across the table. "Everything has been reviewed, Mr. Ambrose. Logistics are aligned, customs are briefed. No issues anticipated except the Rotterdam shipment, which we've scheduled per your prior instructions."

"Good," Ambrose said, voice measured. "We move precisely as planned."

I kept my attention on the papers in front of me, nodding subtly when prompted, trying to stay composed, though my stomach twisted. My fingers brushed lightly over the edge of the table, thinking of Lucien and his plan to stall the operation.

Another man spoke up, voice clipped, formal. "Regarding the transfers of the personnel, Mr. Ambrose... all coordination has been confirmed. Departure is set for 1800 hours tonight."

My breath hitched. I glanced at Lucien. His expression remained calm, but his eyes flickered with concern. He leaned slightly forward, fingers steepled, quietly signaling me to stay calm.

Ambrose finally turned toward me, a folder in hand. "Valentina, you'll be signing the final agreement today. Your signature is required here," he said, sliding the document across the table toward me.

My pulse spiked. The folder seemed heavier than it should have been, the signature line a trap in plain sight.

I looked at Lucien, who gave a barely perceptible nod and the slightest tilt of his head trust the plan.

I took a shallow breath and reached for the pen, trying to steady my hand, every nerve in my body screaming. This moment this simple line on a page was a crossroads. One wrong move and everything we'd worked for, every delay Lucien had set in motion, could collapse.

And as my pen hovered above the signature, I could feel the eyes in the room, on me. Not just Ambrose's. Every pair of polished shoes, every calculating glance, weighed on me. This was it. The moment I had to be stronger than fear.

"You understand the consequences of delaying this?" he said, voice low, dangerous. "Your signature is required today. Any hesitation reflects poorly on you, and by extension..." He let the words hang, a subtle threat meant to rattle me.

I drew in a slow breath, reminding myself of Lucien's instructions. Don't let him corner you. Ask questions. Be precise. Stay calm.

"I understand," I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my fingers. "Which is why I need clarification before signing. I want to ensure every clause, every schedule, every responsibility is fully accounted for. The Rotterdam shipment what contingencies are in place if customs inspects or if logistics are delayed?"

Ambrose's jaw tightened. "Valentina, this isn't a classroom exercise. We've reviewed this. Everything is aligned. You are to sign."

"I want written confirmation," I insisted. "If anything goes wrong, I need to know who is accountable. I cannot be expected to sign blindly on your word."

He leaned back slightly, exhaling slowly, clearly irritated. "You question me now? After everything, you question my authority?"

I met his gaze squarely. "I am not questioning you personally," I said, choosing my words carefully, "but I will not be held responsible for actions I do not fully understand. I will not sign without clarity."

He slammed a hand lightly on the table, the sound echoing like a gunshot. "Enough! You are my wife, yes. But your role here is to act, not to second-guess. You will sign this now."

I clenched my jaw. Stay calm. Hold your ground. Lucien has your back.

"I will sign," I said, slowly, deliberately, "but only after all questions are answered, and only once I understand fully what is expected of me. Nothing less."

The room went tense, all eyes on me. Ambrose leaned forward, the weight of his authority pressing down, his gaze slicing through me. "Do you think your hesitation your defiance changes the reality of this operation?"

"I think," I replied evenly, "that my responsibility to the people affected is greater than fear of consequence. And I will not be coerced into complicity without understanding."

A flicker of something passed over his face anger, disbelief, maybe even grudging respect. I didn't falter. I didn't blink.

Lucien's voice echoed in my mind one last time: You are stronger than he expects. Hold your ground.

And in that moment, I realized I wasn't just following instructions I was claiming a piece of myself back. The pen remained poised above the paper, my heartbeat steady despite the tension, and I waited for Ambrose to make his next move.

"Do you realize, Valentina, what refusing to sign could mean?" His voice dropped. "Your father's company... every asset, every contract, every branch... all at risk. Insolvent. Frozen. He could face charges

criminal charges. Jail time. Complete ruin. All because you hesitate."

My stomach dropped. My breath hitched. No... this can't be... my father? Is this his approach now?

"You'd let your family, your sisters pay the price for your hesitation?" he pressed, leaning closer, his hand lightly brushing the edge of the folder. "If you want them to remain safe... if you want anyone in your family to stay unharmed... you will sign."

The pen trembled in my hand. I could do it. I could just sign and end this. Protect my family. The weight of his words pressed into my chest like iron. Every instinct screamed at me to obey. Protect them. Sign. It's only a signature.

I swallowed, trying to steady myself. The room seemed to close in. I could feel the heat of his gaze, the cold steel of his threat. I knew what he was doing cornering me. Breaking me down to force compliance.

Just... sign. Protect your sisters. Protect everyone.

My hand wavered over the paper. My mind screamed no, but my heart screamed yes. I could feel tears threatening to spill, frustration and fear mingling. I don't want to be complicit. I don't want to be like him. But...

Before I could act, the conference room door swung open sharply. My head snapped toward it.

The hotel manager strode in, serious, tense, and without preamble walked straight up to Ambrose, lowering his voice to a whisper into Ambrose's ear.

"What?" Ambrose's voice was tight, controlled, but his sharpness betrayed his shock. "What do you mean the girls... are gone?"

I froze. Gone? My eyes darted to Lucien.

He was sitting there, perfectly composed as ever, but his lips curved up just slightly, just enough to see that subtle, knowing smile.

My pulse spiked. Relief, disbelief, hope they collided inside me. Lucien had done it. He had moved the girls, prevented them from being shipped. My chest swelled with gratitude, and at the same time, the tension from Ambrose's threat slammed back into me.

But now I wasn't alone. I had a chance.

Ambrose's expression shifted from control to fury, his hands tightening around the edge of the table. I could feel his aura of authority, of dominance, cracking.

"How the hell did this happen?!" he bellowed, rising from his chair so fast the leather creaked. The entire room jumped, papers rattling. His voice was pure thunder, reverberating against the walls.

The manager stammered immediately, words tripping over themselves. "I—I hadn't received the full—sir, it seems...the police—"

A sharp object slammed against the table with a clang before he could finish. Ambrose's hand lashed out, sending pens and folders skittering across the polished surface. "Are you out of your goddamn mind? This is crazy! After all the planning, the coordination, the—how could this—?!"

"Chairman!" another man cut in, voice tight with tension. "There must be a leakage somewhere. Someone tipped them off!"

Ambrose turned, eyes blazing, scanning the room like a predator seeking the traitor. His fists clenched on the edge of the table. "Leakage? You're telling me someone dared—someone dared interfere with my operation?!"

I swallowed hard, heart hammering in my chest. Even Lucien shifted slightly, though his calm remained intact, his expression thoughtful.

"Father," Lucien's voice cut through the storm, smooth but firm, grounding. "Let's calm down and find a way to sort this out. The police are involved now. That's a very bad sign."

Ambrose's glare swung toward him. "You think I will sit and watch this disaster unfolds?"

"I know it's worse if we escalate the panic," Lucien said evenly, stepping closer to the head of the table. "We need facts, containment, and strategy. Shouting won't fix what's already in motion."

I felt my chest loosen fractionally at Lucien's presence. The tension in my shoulders eased a touch. I could almost breathe again, though the fear still lingered like a shadow in the room.

Ambrose's fists unclenched slowly, though the rage in his eyes didn't fade. He turned to the manager, voice low and lethal. "Get me everything. Now. Every communication, every contact, every damn move made on this shipment. If anyone has screwed me over..." His words trailed into a threat too sharp to ignore.

The rest of the men jumped to obey, murmuring confirmations, shuffling papers, tapping at phones.

Lucien's gaze flicked to me for the briefest moment, a silent reassurance. Stay calm. Keep steady. Watch.

And I did. I sat rigid, hands gripping the edge of my chair, letting the storm rage around me, knowing Lucien had already contained the worst of it before Ambrose even realized.

My phone buzzed softly. I slipped it open.

Girls are safe. All moved to a secure location. No one can touch them. Relax, Valentina.

Relief flooded me like warm sunlight, but my hands were still trembling. Another text followed almost immediately:

I’ve orchestrated the delay. You just need to keep calm and let me handle the rest.

The world hadn’t ended. The girls were safe. Lucien had acted, quietly, invisibly, and I could feel it all clicking into place.

I slid the phone back into my lap, bracing myself as Ambrose continued shouting, the room in chaos around him, while I silently counted on Lucien’s plan to unfold perfectly.