Chapter 59: The Private Line

The private terminal hangar was dead silent, save for the low hum of a taxiing Gulfstream G650. As the stairs lowered, Lucian Mercer descended smoothly into the cool night air, flanked by two tailored security operatives.

A sleek black sedan waited near the tarmac. Sitting in the back seat was one of Julian Drake’s former chief strategists—a nervous executive who had scrambled to save his own skin after the board collapse.

"Mr. Mercer," the strategist said quickly as Lucian slid into the leather interior. "We weren't expecting you to fly in so quickly. Drake’s remaining offices are still being swept by the federal receivers—"

"Drake is irrelevant," Lucian interrupted calmly, adjusting his slate-grey coat without looking at the man. "Julian was a reckless pawn who thought a dirty audit could cover five years of bad accounting. He lost his board seat because he was clumsy. I am not here for his office."

"Then why come directly to their doorstep?"

Lucian pulled up a secure tablet, reviewing the real-time telemetry from the transit nodes. "Because when Xavier Knight and his partner sent that encrypted message back to Vandenberg, they didn't just lock down their logistics network. They signaled that they are ready to play on a global level. I intend to see if their foundation is as solid as their arrogance."

He closed the display with a soft tap. "Send word to the Knight-Monroe executive suite. Request a private sit-down for tomorrow afternoon. Let them pick the venue."

Late that night at the brownstone, the lower floor was quiet. Marcus was making final adjustments to the firewall protocols, while Isaiah monitored the perimeter camera feeds.

Upstairs, the master suite was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp. Xavier stood by the tall window, a crystal glass of dark bourbon held loosely in one hand.

Selah approached from behind, her steps light against the polished floorboards. She reached around his waist, resting her forehead against the firm space between his shoulder blades.

Xavier immediately brought his free hand down, over her arms, pulling her firmly against him. The heavy tension in his chest softened the moment she anchored herself to his side.

"Marcus caught the flight plan," Selah said quietly, her voice smooth and unhurried. "Mercer didn't try to hide his arrival."

"He wants us to know he’s here," Xavier replied, turning within her hold so he was facing her directly. He set his glass on the marble mantle behind him and brought both hands up to frame her face, his dark eyes fierce with quiet devotion. "He thinks he's walking into a scattered board after the Drake fallout."

"He’s walking into a wall," Selah corrected, looking up into his eyes with complete composure. "Drake thought he could play us against each other. Mercer thinks he can pressure us from the top. Neither of them understands how this empire actually runs."

A low, dangerous smile touched Xavier’s lips. He leaned down, pressing a lingering, warm kiss to the pulse point just below her jaw, feeling the steady, rhythmic beat under his lips.

"We don't react to his invitation," Xavier murmured against her skin, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbone. "When we sit down across from Lucian Mercer tomorrow, we set every rule in the room."

"Every single one," she whispered back, leaning up to catch his mouth in a slow, deep kiss that sealed their strategy before the morning came.