When Nicolas saw the investor finally step out of the elevator, a wide grin spread across his face.
The man who erged was striking. Brown hair swept back from his forehead, sharp and clean, catching the fluorescent light in a way that seed almost deliberate.
His eyes were a pale, piercing blue, the color of glacial ice, cold and distant behind a pair of thin-frad glasses that added an air of scholarly precision to his otherwise imposing presence.
His suit was dark, perfectly tailored, hugging his broad shoulders and narrow waist, the fabric expensive enough to whisper wealth rather than shout it.
His shoes were polished to a mirror shine, and his hands were gloved in black leather, thin and elegant. He looked like soone who had never waited for anything in his life. Like soone who made others wait for him.
Nicolas stepped forward, his hand extended, his smile bright and eager, the kind of smile he had practiced in the mirror for weeks. "Nice to et you, Zeke."
The man, Zeke Sinclair, looked at Nicolas’s outstretched hand for a mont, then back at Nicolas’s face. His expression didn’t change. Cold. Unreadable. His lips barely moved when he spoke.
"We are not that close," Zeke said, his voice low and smooth, like silk over steel. "Call sir."
Nicolas’s smile faltered. A flash of anger flickered in his eyes, quick and hot, there and gone. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and for a mont, his hand hovered in the air before he dropped it back to his side.
But he was too desperate for this deal to let his pride get in the way. He forced his smile back into place, wider now, almost sickly sweet, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
"Sorry, sir. My apologies." He stepped aside, gesturing grandly toward the conference room, his arm sweeping through the air like he was presenting a throne. "Please, follow . I ca personally to fetch you."
The words carried an underlying aning: I ca to fetch you. I am being gracious. You are being difficult. Rember who holds the power here. But Zeke didn’t seem to care.
He walked past Nicolas without acknowledgnt, his long strides eating up the carpet, his eyes fixed straight ahead, taking in the office around him with an expression of mild boredom.
Nicolas’s grin tightened. He followed, his hands curling into fists at his sides, his knuckles white. The hallway was quiet now, the employees having retreated to their desks after the earlier chaos.
The carpet had been vacuud, but small shards of glass still glittered near the baseboards, catching the light. The bloodstain had been scrubbed, but a faint pinkish shadow remained, visible if you knew where to look.
The sll of cleaning solution hung in the air, sharp and chemical, undercut by the faint sweetness of the dying flowers in the conference room.
•••
Zeke Sinclair had no interest in being here. No interest in Nicolas Vale, in his desperate ambition, in his delusions of grandeur. If it hadn’t been for Dom, he wouldn’t have wasted his ti on this good-for-nothing fool.
Dom had called him weeks ago, explaining the situation. A girl he cared about, Hazel. Her ex-fiancé, a cheap scum who couldn’t take no for an answer. The ex-fiancé was targeting her cousin’s company, trying to destroy Leo.
Dom needed help. He needed soone who could play the part of a wealthy investor, soone who could trap Nicolas in a deal that would leave him with nothing.
Zeke had agreed without hesitation. Ruining a man like Nicolas Vale didn’t sound like work. It sounded like entertainnt.
He had thought it might be risky. He had prepared for pushback, for scrutiny, for Nicolas to question the details of the deal. He had prepared to defend his decisions, to explain his motivations, to justify his investnt.
But Nicolas was a fool. The man couldn’t see the loopholes in his own business plan, let alone the ones Zeke had carefully woven into the contract.
He was so blinded by his own ambition, so desperate for validation, that he had signed every docunt Zeke placed in front of him without reading the fine print.
The deal was structured to look like a massive investnt, but in reality, Zeke was putting up very little of his own money. The rest was leveraged against Nicolas’s assets, assets that Zeke would gain control of if the deal went south. And the deal was designed to go south. Every clause, every condition, every seemingly minor detail was a trap, carefully laid, waiting to snap shut.
The profit for Zeke ca from the penalties and fees hidden in the contract, the ones Nicolas had overlooked in his haste. Every missed deadline, every unt condition, every small failure would cost Nicolas money, money that would flow directly into Zeke’s accounts. And the deadlines were impossible. The conditions were unetable. The deal was a noose, and Nicolas had already put his head through it.
Nicolas would lose everything. His money, his influence, his company. And he wouldn’t even see it coming until it was too late.
Zeke smiled inwardly as he walked into the conference room, taking his place at the head of the table.
The flowers were drooping, their petals brown at the edges. The champagne sat warm in its bucket, the ice long lted into water.
The crystal glasses were smudged with fingerprints. A faint sar of sothing that might have been blood marred the carpet near the wall, and the sll of cleaning solution was stronger here, mixed with the cloying sweetness of the dying flowers.
He didn’t comnt. He simply sat, folded his hands on the table, and looked at Nicolas with those cold, pale blue eyes. His glasses caught the light, hiding his expression for just a mont before he adjusted them, revealing the ice beneath.
"Let’s begin," he said.
Nicolas nodded eagerly, his earlier anger forgotten, his future already sealed. He didn’t see the trap. He didn’t see the danger. He only saw the opportunity. The chance to finally defeat Leo, to win back Hazel, to beco the man he had always wanted to be.
He sat across from Zeke, spreading his hands across the table, launching into his presentation with the fervor of a man who had rehearsed this mont a thousand tis.
Zeke listened. He nodded at the right monts. He asked questions that made Nicolas think he was interested.
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