THE MAN WHO KNEELS FOR EVERYONE AND NO ONE

Zoe had been in boardrooms most of her adult life, first as her father's daughter, then as Emery's wife. 

She knew what money was comfortable with, was fertilized it and what stunted its growth.

Her eyes held fire and she stood, smoothed her bouncy dress, and followed the woman to the elevator.

The grief would wait, the exhaustion could wait, the fear should disappear. The image of Chizaram's face that had surfaced three times already this morning would wait.

Right now she needed to be sharp. She needed to be the version of herself she had not been in years, the one that existed before she spent years making herself smaller to fit inside Emery's life.

The elevator opened on the fourteenth floor.

His office was at the end of a quiet and long corridor. His assistant who met her at the elevator, a young man with a polite smile, knocked once, opened the door, and stepped aside.

Zoe walked in, her shoulders straight, head raised looking every inch of a socialite.

Nathaniel Quest did not look up.

His eyes was on something on his desk, a document of some kind, but beneath his serious facade, Zoe saw his nervousness - how he turned the pen in his hand over and over between his fingers and how his eyes didn’t move from one spot.

She stood and waited for him to acknowledge her.

After a minute, he set the document down, leaned back in his chair, and looked at her.

"Zoe Beckett," he called out looking at Zoe up and down.

"Yes." she replied calmly.

"Emery Landon's fiancee."

"For another thirteen days," she shrugged.

Amusement moved across his face, “Sit down," he motioned to couch.

His eyes locked on her for a few minutes, his lips twitching, “Forgive me, but I find it hard to believe the Zoe Beckett is in my office. You’re the spokeswoman for what five brands?”

"Three domestic brands and two international brands." Zoe replied.

Nathaniel laughed, his laugh was not mocking, it sounded very curious instead, "I am surprised as to why you would be here. Say what, you came to steal secrets from me?"

She let the silence sit between them for five full seconds. Then she spoke.

"I want to make a proposal."

"Hmm," he regarded her lightly, walking towards her and sitting in the couch placed opposite her. 

Nathaniel tapped the nib of his fountain pen against the glass table separating them lightly. "A woman with no appointment and zero prior contact walks into my building and says she has a proposal. I’ve heard that line over and over, and most of them are a waste of my time."

"Most of them are not me, you knew this by letting me in. You wanted to hear what I have to say." Zoe sighed.

“I’m an outcast with you guys, so I was curious.”

“You guys? What do you mean by that, Mr. Quest?” Zoe looked at him confusion marring her beautiful features.

Nathaniel looked at her, his eyes pinned on her face in amazement. 

Big eyes with bright blue pupils stood out against her clear poreless skin. Her nose bridge stood tall to the heavens, sharp and placed perfect on her small face, her lips which were a blessing from an ancestor she’d never met were full and pink, the only thing that carried a hint of makeup.

Even without makeup on her face, she didn’t look her age and could easily be confused for a twenty-one year old.

But the naivety that were once in her eyes were replaced now with a blood-thirsty curdling look that made her sharper and scary.

Nathaniel laughed, but the laugh was devoid of happiness, instead it came out sharp like nettles and thorns piercing the air.

"Surely, you know what I mean, Ms. Quest. Born into wealth, hoarding wealth and keeping the knowledge to make money specifically within the group. Let's not mention insider knowledge."

"Every group has their insider knowledge. Even for jokes." Zoe countered.

Nathaniel scoffed.

"You're just pissed that you were not born into wealth."

Nathaniel laughed, "I'm not." 

"Then why is your villain arc built on the foundation of hating those born into money?" Her eyebrows quirked at him.

"More like, you hoard all the money."

"If we did, you wouldn't be here owning the title of America's youngest self-made billionaire. Also, it's not like I see you pouring out every bit of your money out of your G56000 while at one thousand, four hundred feet in the sky."

"One thousand, four hundred feet. Why did you pick that number?"

Zoe shrugged, meeting his stare head on, "A specific number is always better."

Nathaniel laughed softly, he was no match for Zoe. With just a few words, she destroyed the mindset he'd built his life on. She was fast and quick with her retorts, yet none of them had poisonous barbs in it or showed that she wanted to harm him.

He would know.

He had experienced and managed to avoid every type of harm coming from different angles; some even came as seduction, others as blatant destruction of his business.

“The Quest cooperation cannot afford you. I believe one of your requirements is to only work with old money?.”

Zoe hid her sigh. This man was getting on her nerves and she would swear that he was doing it intentionally.

“The requirement is to work with cooperations with defined values, directed goals and focus on using their knowledge to help the public.”

His laughter came out sharp, "Right. The goal of every capitalist that has survived generations." 

"Tell me what you want, Miss. Beckett-to-be-Landon. You have eight minutes left."

She held his gaze and swallowed her annoyance. 

If she followed her raging emotions, Zoe would smack him in the head with her expensive burberry handbag for dreaming to insult her heritage.

But her goal of revenge must be exacted, so she gritted her teeth and gave him a toothy smile instead.

"Marry me, in exchange, I will give you everything you need to finish what you have been building against Emery for the past three years."