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7. When the Past sits Across the Table. 

Author: Kyra
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-19 23:58:59

7. When the Past sits Across the Table.

Lucien collected himself and leaned back into his chair, exuding the kind of quiet dominance that swallowed a room. "Interesting choice Mr Fisher, bringing her into this" he said, his gaze piercing Dahlia. "I never knew this was a meeting for amateurs".

"And I wasn't aware arrogance was now a negotiation strategy" she said, looking at him fully, her gaze unflinching. She raised her hand and Gaux quickly placed the folder in her hand. Dahlia slid it forward to the investor, her actions calm and measured. "Perhaps, times have changed".

Mr Fisher's eyes flickered between them, his lips curling into a smile, obviously intrigued.

Lucien let out a short, humorless laugh. "Cute. But business isn't a fairytale. Deals aren't won by charms or daydreams"

Dahlia pouted faintly, one which Lucien caught unknowingly. "True. They're won with vision and the ability to deliver what others can't" she paused, allowing her smile to turn into a soft grin, "Something
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  • Her Exodus, His Regret.    24. Born from his ashes.

    24. Born from his ashes.The table was set to perfection— close to the floor to ceiling window, crystal, silver warm lighting bending across the polished wood alongside the soft rays of the night stars that bled through the wall glass. However, the silence was anything but elegant. It was tight. Calculating. Precise. The kind that made every breathing feel like it might tip something over. Dahlia walked into the room, the eyes of her guests following her every move. Lucien leaned into his seat, eyes locked on her like a predator. The green draped on her like sin itself— a shadow latched like a second skin. Sasha noticed. Hands tightened on her clutch. She grabbed a glass of water. "Good evening my esteemed guests. Sorry to have kept you waiting" Dahlia said, once she reached the table. She took a seat at the head of the table, like an empress watching her subjects. She looked everything regal. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you had a surprise for my fiance and I" Sasha

  • Her Exodus, His Regret.    23. Emerald drapes, Hidden flames. 

    23. Emerald drapes, Hidden flames. Lucien didn't look away from Dahlia. And Dahlia didn't look away from him. Their eyes were locked in a silent war, the kind that crackled and stretched the air. Liam stood at the side, in the worst possible way— not physically, but painfully aware he had become a spectator to something he couldn't name, let alone break. His jaw locked, irritation bubbling into something darker. Dahlia broke the stare first. Without a word, she reached for her handbag in Liam's grasp, her actions snapping him back from his spiral. "Let me drive you" Liam said quickly, afraid that a single second of delay would cost him brutally. "Don't take a taxi". He reached for her arm but she dodged with ease, his fingers barely grazing her skin. "No need" Dahlia replied coolly. "My overcoat". "Oh" Liam blinked, then held it open for her. Dahlia hesitated, half because she didn't need the help and half because something in her tightened, that small knot of indecision she hat

  • Her Exodus, His Regret.    22. Coffees and confessions. 

    22. Coffees and confessions. Morning spilled over St Rita's Medicals in a wash of pale gold. Dahlia was discharged shortly after, only to find Liam waiting— familiar in face, unfamiliar in intent. Liam raised the two cups of coffee in his hands in a toast, that warm smile that was perfectly practiced resting on his lips. He was dressed in athleisure— a black sweatpants and grey hoodie. He gave the right vibe perfect for the morning. Dahlia's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" The question came cold, intended. "I heard someone was being discharged today" Liam said as he walked up to her. He handed her a cuppa but Dahlia only eyed him. She busied herself with her hair, tying it effortlessly into a rough bun. "I can go by myself" Dahlia said. Liam placed the coffees on the bedside table. Dahlia didn't mind him and reached for her handbag but he beat her to it, slinging it over his shoulder. Dahlia glared at him. "Mr Liam, what do you think you're doing?" She bristled. "Fin

  • Her Exodus, His Regret.    21. Plans and pages. 

    21. Plans and pages. By the time Gaux arrived at St Rita's Medicals, the sun was already high up, hot but not scorching. A gentle knock on the the door to Dahlia's ward before she pushed it open. "Miss Winters" she called, poking her head in a little. Her actions tore Dahlia's gaze away from the magazine in her hand— one which Damien left to keep her company. "You can come in" Dahlia said, her lips stretched into a small smile. Gaux walked in, closing the door with a light thud. Then she walked to Dahlia's bedside and sat. "Miss, you're alone here?" she asked, worry now evident in her voice. "Kimberly and the others left few minutes ago. You missed them" Dahlia replied, her gaze not leaving the magazine. "Okay" Gaux said. She fiddled slightly with her handbag and the files in her hand, as if hesitant. She looked at Dahlia once then at the files in her hand. "How are things outside?" Dahlia asked, her eyes still on the magazine. "Quite dramatic. The reporters are exaggerating"

  • Her Exodus, His Regret.    20. Peace and Pandemonium

    20. Peace and PandemoniumThe bright white ceiling of St. Rita's Medicals was the first thing that came into her view the moment she opened her eyes. A low groan slipped her lips the moment she squirmed slightly against the bed, startling the person who was by her side. Damien. Damien finally let out the breath he didn't know he has been holding all night the moment he saw her move. He quickly stood from the bedside stool, his eyes looking her all over. The worry was too obvious that Dahlia couldn't miss it. Her lips stretched slightly into something warm as she looked at his frantic actions. "I'm fine" she said, though her voice was raspy. Damien nodded. Without word, he reached for the jug of water on the bedside table and poured Dahlia a glass. He handed it to her. "Here" his deep voice came. Dahlia nodded and accepted it. It was quite refreshing. "How's it now? Your throat?" he asked, his brows raised a little."Good" Dahlia humored him. She looked around, as if looking for s

  • Her Exodus, His Regret.    19. A fiancée's fury

    19. A fiancée's furyThe Voss manor was now quiet, the tension of the night's events still clinging to the air. Lucien stepped into the mansion. It was quiet as well, save for the low hum of air conditioner hanging at all corners. He settled into one of the sofas and took out a stick of cigarette. He lighted it and took a long drag. A smooth exhale. "Good evening ma'am Voss" the voices of the staff at the entrance crept into his ears. "Where's your master?" Diane asked. "He's in the living room" one of the staff answered, tone low and polite. Diane eyed the staff and left for the living room. Lucien had already smoked half of the stick when Diane walked in. However, he showed no reaction. Diane fumed silently but made sure to keep her cool. She sat opposite him. "Lucien" she called as soon as she sat down. Lucien spared her a glance. "Mom" he murmured through the smoke. "Now even I don't get a proper greeting from you?" Diane complained, an attempt to get a reaction from her s

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