Let’s skip the pleasantries.

Chapter four 

By Wednesday afternoon, the staff were on Hugh swing busying themselves with their work.

Christopher sat at his executive desk, reviewing the financial projections for the Montevideo expansion. The door opened after a brief knock, and Bill stepped inside, holding a glowing encrypted tablet with a grim expression.

“Mr. Ashford, we just received a high-priority dispatch from Apex Dynamics,” Bill reported, handing the tablet across the polished mahogany. 

“Their board wants an emergency meeting with you tonight. Not in a public venue they’ve booked a private, high-security lounge downtown.”

Christopher’s silver eyes narrowed as he scanned the invite. Apex Dynamics was their most ruthless rival in the biotech sector. “Apex never plays fair, and they certainly don't request private meetings unless they’re feeling squeezed. What’s the angle?”

Before Bill could answer, the double doors pushed open. Damian Ashford walked in, uninvited as usual, his hands tucked neatly into the pockets of his tailored suit.

“I heard the news, nephew,” Damian said smoothly, a patronizing smile resting on his face. 

“Apex is setting a trap. They know you’re young and inexperienced. As your elder and senior board member, I strongly suggest I escort you to this lounge tonight. You need an experienced hand at that table.”

Christopher looked up, his expression turning ice-cold. He handed the tablet back to Bill without looking at his uncle.

“I don't need a babysitter, Uncle Damian,” Christopher said, his voice flat and unyielding. “And I certainly don't need you holding my hand in front of our biggest competitor. The answer is no.”

Damian’s patronizing smile instantly vanished, his jaw twitching with suppressed rage. “You arrogant little bastard. You think you can handle everything alone? When you ruin this company’s reputation tonight, don't come crying to the board!”

Damian spun on his heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the heavy doors behind him so hard the glass partition rattled.

Bill eyed the old man on his way out and turned to his boss “Should I arrange security for tonight, sir?”

“No need, Bill,” a lazy, deep voice purred from the doorway. Cassian Collins stood leaning against the frame, stepping inside. 

Bill looked at him before glancing back at his boss.

“Thank you Bill,” Christopher said. Bill walked out with a lingering glance at the two Alphas before closing the door behind him. 

Cassian adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket, his dark eyes fixed on Christopher with sharp, calculated focus.

“You’re not going to that lounge alone, Captain,” Cassian said, taking a deliberate step toward the desk.

Christopher leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “and I suppose you’re going to offer to hold my hand like my uncle?”

“How about I hold something else instead?” Cassian’s eyes rested in between the CEO’s thighs

“You must be really jobless. Cassian” Christopher laughed swinging his chair from side to side “I guess you aren't given much work to do or you won't have the time to be spitting rubbish and wasting my precious time. As CEO I will look into that”

“Bring it on I will meet up with any workload thrown at me I can do late night in this office if you would like” Cassian’s eyes were mocking

“I guess you came into my office to waste my time?” Christopher was tired. He didn't feel like playing words with the Alpha today. He needed to focus on the meeting 

“Hardly,” Cassian smirked, leaning his hands on the edge of the desk. “Apex is playing psychological games. Old man Harrison, their CEO is a cynical, ruthless dinosaur who relies on dirty tactics and aggressive intimidation. You go in there alone, and he’ll spin it to the press that Ashford International is desperate.

“Desperate he is the one that sent the Invite”

Christopher cut in 

“He could spin the story and say you faked the invite just to be sure I will come with you as your strategic executive, we scope their weakness, dismantle their market play, and show them a united front. I know Apex’s internal supply lines better than anyone in this building.”

Christopher glared at him, searching Cassian’s calm, arrogant face for a trap but as much as he hated to admit it, Cassian’s tactical mind was sharp, and having him at the table gave them a distinct advantage.

“Fine,” Christopher grunted, standing up and grabbing his suit jacket. “You can tag along but keep your mouth shut unless I ask for your input.”

“Whatever you say, CEO,” Cassian purred softly.

The private lounge at The Obsidian was tucked away in an exclusive, subterranean club reserved strictly for billionaires and power brokers. Dim amber lights, plush velvet booths, and heavy crystal glasses set a dark, secretive tone.

Sitting across from them at a long marble table was CEO Arthur Harrison, an elderly, silver-haired Alpha whose face was lined with decades of ruthless corporate victories. Two heavy-set bodyguards stood silently behind his chair.

“Ashford,” Harrison drawled, swirling a glass of aged whiskey. “And young Collins. I must admit, I expected your uncle Damian to show up and do the talking for you, Christopher.”

“My uncle is busy managing minor spreadsheets, Mr. Harrison,” Christopher replied smoothly, sliding into the leather booth, his broad frame relaxed, overflowing with dominant Alpha presence. Cassian slid in right beside him, his shoulder lightly brushing Christopher’s in the tight space. “Let’s skip the pleasantries. Why did you call this meeting?”

Harrison set his glass down with a heavy thud. “Let’s be blunt. Ashford International is pushing aggressively into the South American market. That’s my territory. I want you to cede the southern trade corridor to Apex Dynamics. In exchange, we won't tank your stock with the patent infringement lawsuit my legal team drafted this morning.”

It was a classic, heavy-handed power move.

Christopher didn't flinch. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the marble surface, a cold, razor-sharp smirk touching his lips. “A patent lawsuit? You mean the stale 2018 bio-enzyme patent your company forgot to renew in Geneva last month?”

Harrison’s thick eyebrows twitched.

Before the old man could recover, Cassian leaned in, his tone smooth, clinical, and deadly. “We ran an audit on your European holding companies two hours ago, Harrison. You’re floating eighty million in debt to cover your failed Q2 acquisitions. If you file a fraudulent lawsuit against us, Christopher will counter-sue within forty-eight hours, freeze your liquid assets in Zurich, and force Apex into emergency liquidation.”

Christopher shot Cassian a quick, glance before locking eyes back onto Harrison. “You brought us to a private lounge thinking you could corner a 'young acting CEO.' But the reality is, Harrison… you’re broke, your market share is bleeding, and we just bought out your primary regional supplier ten minutes before we walked into this room.”

The old man stared at the two young Alphas sitting side-by-side. They looked formidable, brilliant, and completely airtight in their execution.

Slowly, the tension bled out of Harrison’s face. A soft, genuine chuckle rumbled in his chest, turning into a rich laugh. He shook his head, leaning back in his seat.

“God damn,” Harrison muttered, a fond, defeated smile spreading across his weathered face. “The famous intelligence of Christopher Ashford… it wasn't an exaggeration after all. You two are absolute monsters.”

Harrison raised his crystal glass in a quiet toast. “Keep the southern corridor, Ashford. I know when I’m beaten. I won't stand in your way.”

Twenty minutes later, Harrison and his security team had departed, leaving the private lounge completely deserted.

The heavy leather doors were shut, isolating the room in a quiet, moody haze. Low jazz played softly from hidden speakers, and the dim amber light reflected off the half-empty crystal decanter resting between them.

Christopher leaned his head back against the velvet cushion of the booth, loosening his tie with two fingers and letting out a heavy, satisfied breath. “That went better than expected.”

“Because I was here,” Cassian murmured smoothly.

Christopher turned his head. Cassian had slid closer in the booth. His legs were casually spread, his dark suit jacket unbuttoned, his deep, dark eyes fixed entirely on Christopher. The thick, lingering heat from their shared victory made the air between them feel dangerously heavy.

“Don't over inflate yourself,” Christopher muttered dryly, reaching for his tumbler of scotch. “You did alright.”

“Just 'alright'?” Cassian purred, turning his body toward Christopher, resting an arm along the back of the velvet booth right behind Christopher’s shoulders. He leaned in close, his breath brushing against Christopher’s ear, his voice dropping into a low, filthy register. “Admit it, Captain. You loved watching me back that old man into a corner. You like having me at your side.”

Christopher’s jaw tightened, feeling the sudden, suffocating proximity of Cassian’s body heat. “I liked winning the market share. Don't confuse business with whatever sick fantasy you’ve got running through your head.”

Cassian’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening as he let his gaze drop shamelessly down to Christopher’s lips, then lower to the broad expanse of his chest. “You know, Chris…” Cassian whispered, his voice dripping with raw, erotic tension, his dark eyes burning with explicit invitation. “We’re all alone in a private lounge with locked doors and expensive drinks. We just conquered a multi-billion dollar rival together… I can think of a much better way to celebrate than drinking scotch.”

Christopher turned his head slowly, his silver-grey eyes flashing with cold, arrogant amusement as he met Cassian’s intense gaze head-on. He didn't back away. Instead, he let out a low, mocking scoff right in Cassian’s face.

“Jesus Christ, Collins,” Christopher mocked, his tone laced with razor-sharp sarcasm as he swirled the ice in his glass. “Are you really this desperate? What’s the matter with you? Don't you have some socialite or model to go bang? Why the fuck are you constantly hovering around me like a pathetic, star-struck bitch?”