Raine
My heart did a violent flip in my chest, but I forced my fingers to loosen their grip on the doorknob.
I took a slow, deep breath, swallowing the sudden lump of panic rising in my throat.
Be professional, I told myself fiercely.
You are the CEO of this company.
You are not that broken girl anymore.
“What…
what are you doing here?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Miguel turned around slowly.
His dark eyes locked onto mine, his face a mask of perfectly calm, innocent look of awe.
“This is a very nice office, Ms.
Argent,” Miguel said, his voice deep, smooth, and completely calm.
He took a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving my face.
“The Vance Group spoke very highly of your competence.
Now I see why.
You’ve built quite the little empire here in New York.”
”I asked you a question,” I said, my voice hardening as I cut him off.
I refused to let him play these mind games with me.
He didn’t look angry, and he didn’t look smug.
He just looked like a businessman who had every right to be standing there.
“I don’t understand the surprise,” he replied instead, entirely too casual.
“I sent an email earlier today stating that I would be stopping by to review the operations personally.
I told you I was coming, didn’t I?”
I looked at him, watching the calm expression on his face, and mentally forced myself to switch gears.
I couldn’t let my personal emotions dictate this meeting.
This was business.
He was the primary investor now, and I had a responsibility to my sixty employees to keep this company steady.
I walked past him, keeping my posture perfectly straight, and stepped behind my desk.
I didn’t sit down.
Instead, I placed my purse on the dark table and looked right back at him, forcing my voice into a flat, professional business tone.
“Yes, you did send an email, Mr.
Harrison,” I said, intentionally using his formal name to set a clear boundary between us.
“But you did not make an appointment, and you certainly do not have authorization to wait inside my private office without my assistant present.”
Miguel raised an eyebrow, a small, testing glint appearing in his dark eyes.
He didn’t back down.
“I just signed a multi-billion dollar acquisition deal that makes me the majority shareholder of the conglomerate funding your firm,” he said evenly, taking a slow step toward the desk. Follow the newest chapters on novelping dot com.
“I need to be absolutely sure of what is going on here.
I like to know exactly where my money is going, and I don’t like waiting.”
I nodded slowly, keeping my face entirely blank, refusing to let his intimidating corporate weight push me around.
“I understand that completely,” I replied, gesturing toward the door.
“If you want a full breakdown of our operational structure, let’s meet in the main conference room.
I will have Sarah bring in the regional distribution data and the financial ledgers, and I will give you whatever document you are asking for.”
Miguel stopped, his eyes scanning the layout of my room.
He looked at the leather chairs, the neat stacks of folders on my desk, and the quiet atmosphere of the space.
“Why the conference room?” he asked, looking back at me, his brow twitching slightly.
“Why not right here?”
I opened my mouth to explain that the conference room was better equipped for data presentations, but before I could get a single word out, Miguel lifted his hand slightly, stopping me.
“Ms.
Argent,” he said, his voice dropping into a formal, commanding tone that carried the full weight of his authority.
“I want us to use your office.
I am here to review Argent Solutions, and I want to see your specific productivity over the past three years.
This is where you work, so this is where we will do the review.”
The use of my formal name hit me like a splash of cold water.
It was a clear power play, a reminder of who held the cards in this business relationship.
But instead of shrinking, a sudden spark of determination flared up inside me.
I wasn’t going to run away to a conference room just because I was uncomfortable.
I needed to show him right here, in my own space, that I was completely in control.
I was a professional woman running a successful business, and he could not shake me.
“Alright,” I said, giving him a firm, decisive nod.
I sat down, smoothly pulling my laptop toward me and opening the local network drive.
I gestured toward one of the guest chairs across from my desk.
“Please, take a seat.” He adjusted his jacket and sat down, crossing one leg over the other, leaning back as he waited for me to begin.
I turned my screen slightly so he could see the interface, pulled up the master spreadsheets, and started explaining the data to him.
I kept my voice steady, flowing through the corporate terminology with total ease.
I walked him through our quarterly growth, our East Coast distribution channels, the direct client retention rates, and how our new logistics strategy had cut operating costs by four percent.
I didn’t stammer, I didn’t look at his face, and I didn’t let my personal history bleed into a single sentence.
I was completely in my element.
He didn’t interrupt, he didn’t check his phone, and he didn’t look away from the numbers.
He was entirely focused on the business, absorbing every single point I made.
After about fifteen minutes, I finished going through the primary budget folder.
“And that brings us to our projected revenue for the next fiscal year,” I concluded, clicking the screen shut and finally looking up at him.
“Do you have any specific questions regarding the overhead costs?” As soon as my eyes met his, I paused.
Miguel wasn’t looking at the laptop screen anymore.
He was staring directly at me, his dark eyes intense, deep, and carrying a strange, unreadable expression that had nothing to do with business spreadsheets.
I frowned slightly, my professional mask slipping for a fraction of a second.
“What’s that?” I asked, my voice dropping its formal edge.
“Is there something wrong with the distribution numbers?”
He stayed silent for a brief moment, his gaze remaining fixed on my face.
Then, he shook his head slowly, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips.
“No,” he said softly, his voice losing its cold corporate authority for the first time since he entered the building.
“The numbers are perfect.
I was just…
surprised.”
”Surprised by what?” I asked, keeping my eyes steady on his.
“By you,” he replied, leaning forward slightly, his hands resting on his knees.
“The way you speak, the way you handle this company, the sheer confidence you have now.
You are completely different from the girl I used to know.”
Hearing him bring up the past in the middle of my office made a cold wall of defensive anger slam down inside me.
I didn’t want his compliments, and I certainly didn’t want him analyzing my personal growth.
I stood up from my chair, my movements sharp and deliberate as I grabbed my tablet from the desk.
“People change, Mr.
Harrison,” I said coldly, my business tone firmly back in place.
“If you are satisfied with the initial financial overview, I will have David, our head of logistics, take you through the rest of the operational details and show you the warehouse data.
He is much more qualified to give you the technical tour.”
I turned to walk toward the door, ready to call my assistant and remove myself from this suffocating room.
But Miguel didn’t stand up.
He shook his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an unyielding intensity that anchored me to the floor.
“No,” he said, his voice deep and entirely resolute.
“I don’t want David.
I want you, Raine.
I want you to take me through everything yourself.”
The sudden, intimate weight of his words sliced through my professional armor, and before I could stop it, my heart started beating incredibly fast, hammering furiously against my ribs.