LOGINLucas' POV I was on my second cup of coffee when my boss called.I had been at my desk since seven, which was earlier than anyone else on my floor. I used to like that about myself, being the first one in. It used to feel like a small advantage. Lately it just felt like having nowhere else to go.I picked up on the second ring. "Crawley.""My office," Richard said. "Now."The line went dead.Richard Holt did not call people to his office at nine in the morning to deliver good news. I knew that. I had worked at Holt Financial for four years and I had watched Richard sit across from grown men and say things that drained the color from their faces before they even finished their coffee. I put down my mug, straightened my tie, and walked down the hall.Richard was already standing when I came in. That was never a good sign."Close the door," he said.I closed it. I sat in the chair across from his desk. He stayed standing."I got a call from Hendricks this morning," he said.I went still
Alan's POVThe bar Jennifer chose was the kind of place that tried too hard to look expensive. There were leather stools, low lighting and drinks with names that meant nothing. I arrived ten minutes early and took a seat facing the door.I ordered water because I did not like to drink before business meetings. Not even the informal ones.Jennifer had texted me that morning: ‘He agreed. 7pm. Don't be weird about it.’I ignored the last part. I smoothed the front of my jacket and watched the door.Lucas Crawley walked in at seven minutes past seven. I recognized him from the photos Jennifer had shared, but those photos had not prepared me for the state the man was actually in. He was not badly dressed. His shirt was ironed, his shoes were clean. But there was something unraveling about him that no amount of ironing could fix. His jaw was tight. His eyes moved around the bar twice before they settled on me. He looked like a man who had stopped sleeping properly weeks ago.He crossed the
Leon's POVThe morning partners meeting started like any other. Coffee, financial projections, quarterly reports. My senior partners sat around the conference table discussing portfolio performance and potential new acquisitions. I was glad they agreed to have the meeting still even though it was a Saturday and Christmas was right around the corner."The Mitchells are finally ready to move their accounts over from Goldman," Tony said, looking pleased with himself. "That is another twelve million in assets under management.""Excellent work," I said, making a note. "What else is in the pipeline?""We have been in talks with Hendricks Private Wealth Management," David said, pulling up a file on the screen. "They represent high-net-worth individuals and family offices. If we can get them as a client, it opens doors to their entire network."I looked at the numbers on the screen. Fifty million dollars in managed assets. Lucrative management fees. Access to some of the wealthiest families
Anastasia's POV We finished eating and ordered coffee. The conversation shifted over to Leon. I asked about his life growing up in the Hart mansion with his grandma Eleanor and Alan."It was complicated," Leon admitted. "Eleanor loved me but she also had very specific expectations. I was supposed to be the perfect grandson. Have good grades, good behavior and make good decisions. There was no room for mistakes.""That sounds exhausting.""It was, and it still is." He stirred sugar into his coffee. "Alan had it worse though. At least I knew I belonged there by blood. Alan was always the outsider. The housekeeper's son who got lucky. Eleanor loved him but never let him forget that he was not really her family.""Is that why he is so bitter about your inheritance?""Partially. But it is also about power. Alan has spent his entire life trying to prove he is worthy of the Hart name. And no matter what he accomplishes, it will never be enough because he was not born into it." Leon looked a
Anastasia's POVThe restaurant Leon chose was small and intimate. The kind of place that did not have tablecloths or fancy presentations. Just good food and quiet corners where people could actually have conversations without shouting over background noise.We sat at a table near the back, away from the windows and the few other diners scattered throughout the space. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe."This is nice," I said, looking around. "How did you find this place?""James recommended it. He brings clients here when he wants to have real conversations instead of impressing them with expensive wine lists." Leon studied the menu. "I figured we both needed a break from performing for people."He was right. Every meal lately had been with Eleanor or the wedding planner or some business associate who needed to congratulate Leon on his engagement. This was the first time we had been alone together without an agenda in at least a week. The waiter came and we order
Leon's POVI cleared my entire schedule for Friday. I canceled two board meetings, pushed back a conference call with investors, and told my assistant that unless the building was on fire, I was not taking calls until after three in the afternoon.James raised an eyebrow when he saw the blocked-out time on my calendar."Championship semi-finals?" he guessed."Yes.""You know you are going to have to reschedule all of this for next week, right? Those investors are not going to be happy.""Then they will be unhappy." I grabbed my coat. "This is important.""To Anastasia or to your arrangement?"I looked at him sharply. "Does it matter?""I think it does. Because the way you have been acting lately, I am not entirely sure you remember which is which anymore."I did not have an answer for that. So I left without one.The championship venue was the same convention center where Anastasia had competed in the first round. But today it felt bigger somehow. There was more pressure and the stake







