CHAPTER 4

LANCELOTTE'S POV  

Instead of heading home, I drove straight to my office. 

An emergency meeting with several investors had been scheduled for that morning, leaving me with no time to return to the mansion. Besides, going home would only waste precious minutes, and I had more important things to attend to.

Fortunately, the penthouse on the top floor of my office building had everything I needed. I had it furnished specifically for situations like this, when work demanded my immediate attention and returning home was simply out of the question.

After arriving, I went straight to the penthouse and took a quick shower. Once I had changed into a fresh suit, I checked my appearance in the mirror before heading to the conference room.

Several investors were already waiting.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

I greeted each of them with a firm handshake, offering the same confident smile I used whenever I needed to put people at ease without revealing too much about myself.

The meeting centered on our winery business, a venture that had been steadily expanding over the past few years. I listened carefully as the initial reports were presented, reviewing the figures and projections before taking over the discussion.

Questions came one after another, ranging from production costs to distribution strategies and projected returns. I answered each one with calm precision, explaining our plans and addressing their concerns without hesitation.

I knew my business inside and out. I wouldn't have allowed the meeting to proceed if I hadn't been certain of the numbers.

By the time I finished my presentation, the atmosphere in the room had changed. The investors exchanged approving glances, and a round of applause followed.

One after another, they stood to shake my hand.

Contracts were signed, congratulations were exchanged, and another multimillion-peso deal was secured for the company.

A productive morning, indeed.

Once the last investor had left, I returned to my office and dropped into my swivel chair. I leaned back, resting my head against the headrest as a weary sigh escaped my lips.

Business has never been a problem for me. I knew how to negotiate, how to recognize an opportunity, and, more importantly, how to make sure I came out on top.

People, on the other hand, were considerably more complicated.

I picked up a black ballpoint pen and absentmindedly twirled it between my fingers before setting it back on the desk. For a few moments, I simply stared at the ceiling, allowing myself a brief respite from the endless demands of running a business empire.

Then I remembered I still had somewhere to be.

I stood, grabbed the navy-blue suit jacket hanging over a nearby stool, and slipped it on before leaving my office.

Employees greeted me as I walked down the hallway, but I barely acknowledged them with more than a passing glance. It wasn't that I disliked them. I simply wasn't the type who enjoyed unnecessary conversations, especially when I had a full schedule ahead of me.

Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm only made me more interested in the women in the office.

I noticed several female employees watching me from the corners of their eyes. Some whispered to one another, while others didn't even bother hiding their admiration.

I had grown accustomed to it.

With my height, appearance, and position, attracting attention had never been particularly difficult. Even CGN Magazine, one of the country's most prestigious lifestyle publications, had once offered me an endorsement contract.

I turned it down without a second thought.

Being photographed for a magazine wasn't going to improve my business, and I had no interest in spending my time pretending to be someone I wasn't.

Still, I couldn't deny that my appearance had its advantages. A well-tailored suit, a confident smile, and the right words could open doors that would otherwise remain closed.

I simply preferred to let my accomplishments speak for themselves.

"You look great today, Mr. Smith."

The familiar voice came from behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder and found Mr. Asero catching up with me. My driver and bodyguard had a habit of appearing whenever I needed him, often without making the slightest noise.

"Do I?" I asked, offering him a faint smile.

"Of course. Although, if you keep looking this serious all the time, people might start thinking you don't know how to smile."

"Maybe I don't."

Mr. Asero chuckled.

"It's hard trying to stay serious all the time, you know. At this rate, I'll grow old even faster just keeping up with you."

A faint smirk tugged at my lips.

Mr. Asero had worked with me long enough to understand my personality. He never forced conversations when I wasn't in the mood, and he knew when to keep his distance. Despite the difference in our ages, I had come to appreciate his straightforward nature.

He was one of the few people I trusted to watch my back.

I glanced at my wristwatch. It felt as though I had checked the time a dozen times already, but the sight of the hands reminded me of something far more important.

Food.

I hadn't eaten anything substantial since the previous night. Between the alcohol, the hotel, and the morning's business meeting, breakfast had completely slipped my mind.

"So, where do you want to eat today, Mr. Asero?" I asked as we headed toward the parking area. "I'm starving. Let's stop by my favorite restaurant."

His face immediately brightened.

"Perfect timing! I've been hungry for hours. I'm ordering chicken curry and goat caldereta."

I grimaced before I could stop myself.

Mr. Asero noticed.

"What? Don't tell me you still don't like  caldereta."

"I've told you before that I don't."

"But it's delicious!"

"Then enjoy it."

"You should try it sometime. You might change your mind."

"I'm not a picky eater," I replied as I climbed into the passenger seat and fastened my seat belt. "I just don't like goat caldereta. You can enjoy your favorite dish by yourself."

Mr. Asero shook his head, muttering something about my terrible taste in food, and started the engine.

I was about to close my eyes and rest when something caught my attention in the side mirror.

My smile disappeared.

"Keep your eyes on the road," I told him.

Mr. Asero immediately sensed the change in my voice. He stopped joking and focused on the road ahead.

"What is it, sir?"

I glanced at the mirror again.

"Looks like we've had company for quite a while."

His eyes shifted toward the rearview mirror.

Two black SUVs were following us.

At first glance, there was nothing particularly unusual about them. The road was busy, and plenty of vehicles were heading in the same direction. However, these two had maintained the same distance behind us for several minutes.

When we changed lanes, they followed.

When we slowed down, they slowed down.

And when Mr. Asero made a turn that should have separated us from the surrounding traffic, both vehicles made the same turn.

Coincidence?

I doubted it.

Mr. Asero tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"Do you think they're following us?"

"Would you like me to answer that, or would you prefer to keep pretending they aren't?"

He shot me a brief look before returning his attention to the road.

"Understood, sir."

The engine roared as he gradually increased our speed.

One hundred kilometers per hour.

One hundred twenty.

One hundred forty.

The scenery outside blurred as we sped down the road, but the two SUVs remained behind us.

Persistent bastards.

I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms, closing my eyes as though I were taking a nap.

Mr. Asero glanced at me again.

"Sir, are you seriously going to sleep right now?"

"Would you prefer that I panic?"

"No, sir, but—"

"Then drive."

He fell silent.

I had encountered situations like this before. People who wanted to intimidate me, competitors who thought they could pressure me into making concessions, and enemies who believed that following my car was enough to make me nervous.

They were all making the same mistake.

I wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me lose my composure.

Besides, Mr. Asero knew what he was doing. If the situation became dangerous, I trusted him to handle the car while I dealt with whoever was foolish enough to challenge us.

Several tense minutes passed.

I kept my eyes closed, listening to the steady hum of the engine and the occasional shift in Mr. Asero's breathing. He was trying to remain calm, but I could tell he was growing increasingly uneasy.

Then, after another turn, the two SUVs disappeared from the side mirror.

I waited a few seconds before opening my eyes.

They were gone.

Mr. Asero checked the rearview mirror twice before finally releasing a long breath.

"Thank goodness," he muttered. "I thought they were going to follow us all the way to the restaurant."

I said nothing.

Their sudden disappearance bothered me more than their pursuit.

If they had simply lost interest, why had they followed us so persistently in the first place? And if they had been waiting for an opportunity, what had made them change their minds?

I looked at the side mirror one last time.

The road behind us was clear.

For now.

"Keep driving," I instructed.

Mr. Asero nodded and focused on the road.

I leaned back against the seat, my expression unreadable as I considered the possibilities.

Whoever those men were, they had made one thing clear. Someone was watching me, and I intended to find out who.