LOGINHenri smiled, there for a moment a flicker of victory on his face. He moved to the right and pressed the hidden device which was concealed in the lined portion of the pleated silk wall. Quietly a small panel opened to show a cabinet that was illuminated and maintained a controlled temperature. In the cabinet was a bottle of vintage Dom Pérignon placed in polished silver, together with two crystal flutes.He opened the bottle, skillfully loosened the wire cage, and pulled the cork out with only a slight sound, merely a soft thump as the pressure escaped. He then filled both flutes with neat elegance, the pale golden liquid fizzing against the crystal.He held one of the glasses out to her and said, "Here."Elizabeth’s stomach at once became tightly knotted.Champagne.She looked at the bubbles rising to the surface. She wasn't going to drink alcohol—not at the moment, not since his child was growing inside her. But if she declined a toast without giving a reasonable reason, a man so h
Elizabeth was all by herself in the deep, plush leather seat of the Maybach custom limousine and her fingers were tightly interwoven in her lap.He had telephoned her just forty minutes earlier and said that they should spend the day together.Like she used to, she had at once agreed and stepped out into the cool morning air without pausing for a single moment.She was at his disposal. It had once given her great pleasure, offering her a thrilling and intoxicating confirmation that, among all the people in his huge corporate empire, it was her name that he called upon when he wanted company. But on this occasion, the realization seemed less like a romantic situation and more like a chain.Elizabeth placed the palm of her hand firmly against her lower abdomen and felt the slight, invisible warmth underneath the silk of her blouse.A child.She needed to rest and lower your stress levels.How could she lower her stress levels when the father of the child she was going to have was Henri
Silence settled over the table, heavy and dense with years of unsaid words. Between them lay a lifetime of competitive shadows—the constant pressure to earn the approval of a father who treated affection like a finite, currency-based asset."Father failed us," Henri continued, his voice steady, holding Sebastian’s cold gaze. "He pitted us against each other from the moment we were old enough to understand what a board of directors was. He thought creating a rivalry would make us stronger. It didn't. It just divided us. But I am not him, Sebastian. I refuse to let his mistakes dictate the rest of our lives."Sebastian took a measured sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving his brother. "You want an alliance.""I want a united front," Henri corrected. "We come together. We secure Gagnon Enterprises, neutralize Marie, and build something that actually lasts. Put an end to the silent rivalry. Fight side by side, not against each other."Sebastian lowered his glass, setting it back o
The St. James Club was situated in a corner of downtown Montreal that had been soaked by rain, its solid mahogany doors and tinted glass keeping the city's real power holders away from the gaze of passers-by. Within the club the air had the odour of old bourbon, costly leather, and of the quiet, inherited wealth. It was a place where fortunes were discussed in whispers and rivalries were concealed behind smooth crystal glasses.Henri was the first to arrive. He took a quiet booth in the remote corner of the sparsely lit lounge, a choice which gave him a clear view of the entrance while at the same time having his back pressed firmly against the wall. Old habits tended to last. He ordered a double neat, the iceless amber liquid shining with the soft light of the wall sconces, and then waited.Exactly seven minutes later the heavy entrance doors opened.Sebastian walked into the lounge. He didn't hurry and instead of moving about the room in the nervous way that a man does when he's loo
The familiar scent of cedarwood filled the quiet space of Henri’s penthouse. He leaned back against the soft cushions of his leather couch while his mind organized the remaining pieces on the board. The strategy for the merger was nearly complete. Marie had taken the bait—hook, line, and sinker. He had her right where he wanted her, caught by her own ambition.On paper, Henri had accounted for every variable. The only one left was his brother. Sebastian had been quiet for weeks. Knowing him well, Henri understood that silence wasn't passive. When Sebastian was silent, he was plotting. He measured his words carefully and thought three steps ahead of everyone else.Henri needed to reach out. He had to make the first move because he was the older brother. Since their father’s funeral, neither had genuinely tried to bridge the gap between them. Grief should have united them, but it instead pushed them further into their corners of resentment.Sebastian needed love—the kind of unconditiona
Gossip. The word echoed oddly in her mind. Could people already be talking? Whispering in the breakrooms and staring as she walked past? Her stomach twisted in a fresh knot of dread. “But you keep stealing touches when you think no one is looking,” she replied softly. That part was undeniably true. He couldn't help adjusting her collar, brushing his fingers against her wrist, or leaning too close in the hallways. “People are beginning to notice.” And soon, dear God, how would she hide a growing belly? In just a few months, no tailored blazer or cleverly loose blouse would conceal the truth. Henri leaned back slightly in his leather chair, his dark eyes scanning over her face and boldly sweeping down the line of her throat and figure with unabashed appreciation. “Then maybe I should give these people something real to talk about,” he said smoothly, a slow, teasing smile forming on his lips. Elizabeth blinked, realizing a moment later that he was joking, trying to pull her out o







