Chapter 7

• Liam
• “I beg to differ.”
• I leaned back in my leather chair, exhaling a frustrated sigh as I fixed my gaze on the man seated across from me.
• Mr. Laurent, a business associate, had spent the past twenty minutes pitching a deal drenched in self-interest. Despite my clear refusal, he persisted, determined to convince me otherwise.
• His polished suit and practiced smile might have fooled others, but not me.
• “Mr. Walker,” he said smoothly, “this partnership could open up new avenues for both our organizations. A win-win situation.”
• I raised an eyebrow, drumming my fingers on the desk. “For you, perhaps. Not for me.”
• Laurent’s confident smile faltered. “I beg to differ. The profit margins—”
• There it was again—begging to differ.
• “—are skewed in your favor,” I cut him off, my tone sharp. “You’re proposing a 60/40 split, with the bulk going to you. Tell me, why would I ever agree to such an insult? Frankly, your insistence is only making me angrier.”
• Laurent shifted in his seat, his composure cracking. “Because it’s a strategic move. Our collaboration would strengthen your foothold in the European market.”
• I chuckled dryly. “Strengthen my foothold? My foothold is already solid. I don’t need scraps from you to expand.”
• “That was harsh,” he muttered under his breath, but he should’ve known by now—I didn’t entertain unprofitable deals.
• “Perhaps we can renegotiate—”
• “There won’t be a renegotiation.” I stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “This conversation is over. If you come back with a proposition that doesn’t insult my intelligence, my assistant will schedule another meeting. Until then, don’t waste my time.”
• Laurent stood reluctantly, his face flushed with frustration. “Very well, Mr. Walker.”
• I watched him leave, his defeat almost satisfying. Negotiations were an art, and I had no tolerance for mediocrity.
• Back in my office, I loosened my tie, irritated by the wasted twenty minutes. As the door shut, my assistant Bianca entered, her tablet in hand, her demeanor as efficient as ever.
• “Bianca,” I said, brushing a hand through my hair. “What’s next on my schedule?”
• She glanced at the tablet, her perfectly manicured fingers swiping through the agenda. “You have a conference call with the board at 4 p.m., followed by a dinner meeting with Mr. Chen. And don’t forget,” she added, her tone pointed, “your brother’s wedding tomorrow.”
• At the mention of the wedding, I froze, then let out a cold laugh. “A promiscuous wedding, you mean?”
• “Promiscuous, sir?” Bianca asked, frowning.
• It was promiscuous. Our father, knowing Lucas had once been betrothed to the elder Gomez daughter, had conveniently overlooked her untimely death and arranged for him to marry the younger one instead.
• I’d once set my sights on Arlene Gomez. Years ago, she had managed her family’s empire with such finesse that anyone in our circles would have killed to have her. But she chose Lucas.
• She was allowed to choose—and she didn’t choose me.
• The sting of that decision had haunted me for months. I hadn’t wanted her out of love then, but for the sheer power her name commanded.
• “Don’t play coy, Bianca,” I said sharply. “Lucas marrying Daisy Gomez is a joke. That family is a scandal waiting to happen.”
• Bianca hesitated, unsure whether to agree or remain silent.
• “Tell Lucas I won’t be attending,” I declared, coldly dismissing the subject. “I have better things to do.”
• Before Bianca could respond, a knock interrupted us. I motioned for her to open the door.
• Marco, one of my trusted men, stepped in, his expression serious yet tinged with excitement. “Sir, there’s something you need to know.”
• I gestured for him to continue.
• “It might interest you to know that she’s not dead,” he announced, passing his tablet to me.
• “Who?” I asked, glancing at the screen.
• My eyes widened. The familiar jawline and piercing gaze of the woman I hadn’t seen in years stared back at me.
• “Miss Ar—”
• I raised a hand to stop him. It was her.
• “How?” I demanded, struggling to process the image before me.
• “Our man spotted someone resembling her at a five-star hotel earlier today. He was certain when her best friend and secretary entered the hotel shortly after. She left the building again tonight, and he captured this.”
• Bianca gasped softly, but I didn’t acknowledge her. My mind raced. Arlene Gomez, alive? The woman everyone had assumed was dead after that fateful accident five years ago?
• I leaned back, a slow smirk curling my lips. “So, the prodigal heiress returns. How… entertaining.”
• Marco nodded. “It seems she’s been in hiding. Her sudden reappearance now is no coincidence.”
• “No,” I murmured, my smirk deepening. “This is no coincidence.”
• Bianca hesitated before speaking. “Sir, if she’s alive, this could complicate things for your brother.”
• “Complicate?” I laughed darkly. “No, Bianca. This simplifies everything. The Gomez fortune is in flux, and an estranged heiress is the perfect key to unlock it.”
• Marco’s brow furrowed. “What’s the plan, sir?”
• “Plan? No plans,” I said, standing and adjusting my suit.
• Bianca blinked, confused. “But I thought you wouldn’t—”
• “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” I interjected.
• “But you’ve already declined the wedding invitation,” Bianca reminded me.
• “Then I’ll just undecline it,” I said, my tone dripping with amusement. “Cancel tomorrow’s appointments and reschedule anything important for next week.”
• Marco nodded, understanding the unspoken directive. Bianca, however, looked torn between confusion and concern.
• As they left to make arrangements, I stood by the window, staring at the city skyline. Arlene Gomez, alive. The thought stirred something within me—not just ambition but a genuine curiosity.
• Why had she stayed hidden? What was she running from?
• More importantly, how would I use her return to my advantage?
• A slow, dark smile spread across my face. The game had just gotten interesting, and I was more than ready to play.