CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ADRIAN’s POV

“Sir, Riverton Maritime’s board requested an emergency meeting this morning.”

I looked up from the document in my hand slowly.

“What kind of meeting?”

My executive paused for a second before answering. “Acquisition discussions.”

A cold silence swept through the conference room.

The board members exchanged uneasy glances while Damien leaned back lazily in his chair, though I knew him well enough to notice when he was pretending to stay relaxed.

“Who’s acquiring them?” I asked calmly.

“ARDEN CORPORATION,” one of the board members responded quietly.

I stared at nothing for a few seconds before tossing the file onto the table.

I knew it was her, Selene Arden.

This woman had entered this city less than forty-eight hours ago and already managed to destabilize two major supply structures connected to Laurent Group. That was too far from being an ordinary coincidence, it screams strategy.

“She’s moving aggressively,” one of the board members muttered nervously.

“No,” I corrected calmly. “She’s moving deliberately.”

There’s a huge difference between both. Aggressive people made emotional decisions but deliberate people planned outcomes long before others noticed the pattern.

“She’s targeting us directly,” another board member added carefully. “If Riverton sells to Arden Corporation, our international shipping costs will increase tremendously.”

I already knew that. She chose Riverton deliberately, not for expansion but pressure. My fist tightened harder at the thought.

“She requested a private meeting with you, sir,” my assistant suddenly added.

I turned around immediately. “When?”

“This afternoon.”

Damien let out a low whistle from behind me. “Interesting.”

“What exactly did the request say?”

My assistant glanced down at her tablet briefly before reading. “‘Miss Arden believes mutual interests may exist between Laurent Group and Arden Corporation.’”

I know nothing about Selene Arden felt mutual, every of her moves have been dutifully mapped out.

“Decline it,” one of the board members said immediately. “We shouldn’t negotiate from a weakened position.”

“No, set the meeting” I replied before anyone else could speak. The board members shot me a curious look.

Damien studied me carefully. “Are you sure that’s a wise decision to make?”

“No, it’s not,” I replied honestly. “But neither is allowing her to move unchecked.”

By the time I returned to my office after the meeting, my phone already has series of missed calls, four from reporters and eight from Celeste.

I ignored the reporters first, I stared briefly at Celeste’s name before ringing her back.

She answered immediately.

“How bad is it?” she asked without greeting.

“You already heard.”

“My father heard first.”

Of course he did, news traveled fast when billionaires started circling each other publicly.

“She’s after Laurent Group,” Celeste continued carefully. “People are talking about it already.”

I walked toward the bar inside my office and poured a drink. “People always talk.”

“This feels different Adrian,”she argued back. We’re almost at the edge of bagging a major international deal. If we lose Riverton Maritime, it will cause a major setback in our shipping system and this will ruin every chance we have to get this international deal. Think about it Adrian.”

I stayed quiet, Celeste is right. I need to do something about this urgently.

“I’m meeting with her today,” I finally said.

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

I can hear her exhale slowly through the phone. “Adrian…I don’t trust her.”

“I’ll handle it,” I said finally.

Celeste became quiet briefly before responding again, softer this time. “Just be careful,” she said before ending the call.

I set the glass down untouched as I sank into the chesterfield chair in my office.

*********************************************************

SELENE’s POV

By one-thirty in the afternoon, I arrived at Laurent Group headquarters.

The building stood tall in the center of the financial district, polished glass reflecting sunlight sharply enough to look almost untouchable.

Four years ago, I used to walk into smaller offices carrying coffee and paperwork while Adrian buried himself inside meetings trying to save this company.

Back then, Laurent Group barely survived quarter to quarter, now it towered over half the city. Part of this empire still existed because of sacrifices nobody remembered anymore.

Life is ironic.

The car stopped smoothly near the entrance. Security teams immediately moved into position while cameras flashed nearby. Reporters are always gathered anywhere billionaires decided to collide publicly.

Clara stepped out first, then I followed. The moment my heels touched the pavement, attention shifted instantly, people stared openly.

Inside the lobby, everything smelled expensive. Dark stone floors, towering ceilings, minimalist luxury carefully designed to impress investors without appearing desperate for attention.

A receptionist immediately approached carefully. “Miss Arden, Mr. Laurent is expecting you. This way please,” she gestured toward the elevator.

The private elevator ride upstairs lasted less than a minute but still enough time for memory to try resurfacing again.

The elevator doors dinged open, interrupting my thoughts. I stepped out calmly and there he was.

Adrian Laurent stood near the conference room doors waiting for me. He wore a dark suit with an expression hard to decipher.

He took a step forward as his hand reached out for a handshake. “Miss Arden.”

“Mr. Laurent.” I shook his hand gently.

His gaze held mine carefully, almost cautiously.

“I appreciate you coming personally,” he said. Then he gestured toward the conference room. “Shall we?”

The room itself overlooked the entire city. Long black table, floor-to-ceiling windows. I took the seat across from him calmly while assistants placed documents down between us. Neither of us touched them immediately.

“You move quickly,” Adrian finally said.

I looked at him calmly, “I value time.”

He held my gaze for a moment before speaking again.

“You targeted two suppliers connected to Laurent Group within forty-eight hours.”

“Business opportunities presented themselves, Mr Adrian.”

A faint humorless smile touched his mouth. “You make corporate warfare sound polite.”

“Hostility usually wastes energy.” I replied dryly.

His eyes stayed on me several seconds longer than comfortable. “You’ve built an impressive company,” he said eventually.

“So have you.”

“Mine took longer.”

That answer almost sounded personal but I ignored it.

Adrian leaned back slightly in the chesterfield chair he was seated, his expression calm but I can read the fear beneath it. “Why Laurent Group?”

There it was, the real question beneath all the professional language. I crossed one leg calmly. “Should your company feel threatened, Mr Laurent?”

“That depends whether your interest is expansion or destruction.”

I met his gaze evenly. “And if it’s both?”

There was a brief measured silence. “That was a dry joke,” I laughed softly, breaking the tensed air.

Then Adrian surprised me.

“You hate us already,” he said quietly.

My expression remained calm, but my inside stiffened for a second. This is more interesting, he noticed quicker than I expected.

“I don’t hate companies, Mr. Laurent.” I reached for a document and flipped it open. “Riverton Maritime will sign with Arden Corporation by tomorrow morning.”

Adrian didn’t react but I noticed the subtle tightening in his jaw.

“That acquisition damages international routes tied to Laurent Group,” he said.

I looked up slowly. “That sounds dangerous.”

“Maybe.”

For the first time since entering the room, Adrian’s composure slipped slightly, enough for me to notice.

“You ever get the feeling you’ve seen something before?” he asked carefully. “Even when logic says you haven’t?”

My heartbeat stiffened slightly, this conversation was moving somewhere unstable and I hated it already. I closed the document carefully before standing up.

“Thank you for having me, Mr Laurent.”

Adrian stood too. “That’s it?”

“For today.” I forced a strained smile.

I gathered the files while Clara stepped forward beside me to take them. But before I could turn away completely, Adrian spoke again.

“You have an unusual habit as my late wife Serena, she used to tap her fingers when she was irritated too.”

I froze for one horrifying second, though not visibly.

During the meeting, my fingers had been tapping lightly against the conference table the entire time. It was an unconscious act I make when I feel nervous, irritated or anxious.

And Adrian Laurent had noticed that.