Sophie’s POV
I slipped into Blue Mountain Café after eting my client, heading straight for the private room tucked away in the back.
These days, I’ve been keeping my head down, terrified that Derek might track down again. Finding out he’d been targeting Serena had my nerves completely shot.
When I pushed open the door, I found Lucian West’s assistant waiting inside, his expression cold and calculating. My shoulders instantly relaxed. At least it wasn’t Derek or one of Ryan’s people.
"What’s the matter?" I asked, sliding into the seat across from him without waiting for an invitation.
The assistant gave a dismissive once-over, his eyes revealing nothing. "Mr. West asked to deliver so news to you."
"What news?" I leaned forward, unable to hide my curiosity.
"Derek has... disappeared. You won’t need to worry about him coming after you anymore."
I couldn’t contain the flash of excitent in my eyes. "Are you serious? Is he actually—"
The assistant shot a warning glare that made the words die in my throat. ssage received - so things shouldn’t be spoken aloud, even in private rooms.
"Mr. West says that if Ms. Hart can provide useful information, he’ll consider the partnership we discussed. However," his voice grew colder, "if you continue to be this useless, there’s no need for future contact."
I let out a soft laugh, tossing my hair over my shoulder. "Tell your boss not to worry. I was Ryan Blackwood’s woman once. No one knows the Blackwood family better than I do."
"Is that so?" The assistant’s eyebrow arched slightly. "And what about the previous generation of Blackwoods? How much do you know about them?"
I frowned, caught off guard. "Previous generation? Is Mr. West investigating the Blackwood family history?"
His face remained expressionless, perfectly trained. "Ms. Hart, you don’t need to know these details. Mr. West’s intentions are none of your concern. If you demonstrate your value, he might consider helping you when necessary."
He leaned forward, his cologne—expensive but understated—reaching my nostrils. "But I should warn you, Ms. Hart: don’t try to play gas with Mr. West."
I nodded, trying to look confident despite the chill running down my spine. "Don’t worry. I’ll find what your boss wants."
As I watched his retreating figure through the café, I couldn’t help the smirk that ford on my lips.
The coffee shop’s ambient noise faded into background as I imagined my future. If I could complete Lucian’s task, I’d finally get Ryan back permanently. Then my golden days would truly begin.
The next day, I strutted into Blackwood Corporation’s project departnt, my heels clicking confidently against the marble floor. The project manager’s face morphed into a sycophantic smile when he saw .
"Ms. Hart! To what do we owe this pleasure?" His voice dripped with fake enthusiasm that made my skin crawl.
I flipped my hair casually, giving him a disdainful glance. God, these middle managers were so transparent. "Mr. Blackwood sent to review so project files."
At the ntion of Ryan’s na, the manager straightened his posture and began leading toward his office with exaggerated deference.
I could get used to this kind of treatnt. Settling onto his plush leather sofa, I crossed my legs and looked around imperiously.
"I need the files for the suburban developnt project from ten years ago. Hurry up—I don’t want to keep Ryan waiting."
"The suburban project from ten years ago?" The manager’s brow furrowed.
"Is there a problem?" I was too busy admiring my fresh manicure to notice the uncertainty in his expression.
He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with his tie. "All those old files have been archived, and that particular project has top-level security clearance. Without Mr. Blackwood’s signed authorization, I’m afraid I can’t access them."
I hadn’t expected this roadblock. My heart raced, but I maintained my composure. "Ryan personally sent here. Are you questioning my credibility?"
The manager wasn’t budging. Without seeing an authorization form, he clearly wasn’t risking his job for . "We’re just following protocol. Perhaps you could call Mr. Blackwood right now, and we can sort this out imdiately?"
My expression froze. The confidence I’d been radiating just seconds ago evaporated like cheap perfu.
Standing awkwardly, I smoothed down my dress. "Never mind. I’ll personally ask Ryan why Blackwood employees are so... rigidly bureaucratic." I emphasized those last words, hoping he’d catch my implied threat.
But the manager seed immune to intimidation. Instead of cowering, he politely escorted out, his professional smile never wavering.
Once I was out of earshot, I let out a frustrated huff, my heels striking the floor harder with each angry step.
Behind , I heard a young employee whisper, "Aren’t you worried she’ll complain to Mr. Blackwood?"
The manager’s dismissive response drifted down the hallway: "Soone who doesn’t even know basic protocols is clearly bluffing. Open the windows—let’s get rid of that overpowering perfu sll."
I was absolutely fuming as I stord out of the building. What I thought would be simple had turned into a complete disaster. If I needed Ryan’s authorization to access those files, I’d have to work harder than expected.
No wonder Lucian wanted those particular docunts—they were practically impossible to get. But I couldn’t exactly ask Ryan for authorization when we weren’t even on speaking terms anymore.
At this point, though, I was desperate enough to try anything. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was nearly noon. Perfect timing.
I ordered lunch from Ryan’s favorite restaurant—the one where we had our first date—and headed straight to Blackwood headquarters.
Since I used to visit frequently, the security staff recognized and didn’t stop as I made my way to the executive floor.
My heart pounded as I approached his office. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my blouse, checked my lipstick in my compact mirror, and pushed open his door without knocking.
Ryan was on the phone, his long legs crossed as he leaned back in his chair. Occasionally his lips would curve into that smile I once thought was just for .
He looked powerful and gorgeous as always, his custom suit fitting his athletic fra perfectly.
His back was to the door, so he didn’t notice right away. I stood there, drinking in the sight of him, rembering how it felt to be his.
When he finally hung up and swiveled in his chair, the temperature in the room seed to drop ten degrees.
"What are you doing here, Sophie?" His voice was ice cold, his gray-blue eyes narrowing as they t mine.
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