Ryan’s POV
I stare at my phone wallpaper—a family photo of Serena, Vivian, and .
"Mr. Blackwood, it’s ti to board," Simon informs .
I nod briefly, pocketing my phone and rising from the VIP lounge. My team has already made contact with ARt company—this trip to Canada should be quick and dirty.
After landing, I’m t by a group of n in suits at the airport exit.
"Mr. Blackwood, we’ve been sent by Mr. Anderson to escort you. Your hotel accommodations are prepared."
I scan them with arctic coldness. David Anderson—ARt’s CEO and my scheduled eting—couldn’t even be bothered to show his face personally. Typical power play from soone who doesn’t understand who they’re dealing with.
"That won’t be necessary," I reply flatly.
Simon steps forward, smoothly intercepting Anderson’s lackeys. "Mr. Blackwood requires rest. You can see yourselves out. As for the eting, it will happen when Mr. Blackwood is ready."
Without another word, I stride to the waiting car Simon arranged. If Anderson thinks he can flex on with these amateur-hour tactics, he’s sorely mistaken.
"Have our people continue monitoring David Anderson’s movents," I instruct Simon once we’re settled in the hotel suite. "I assu Chairman Anderson has gotten wind of my arrival?"
"Yes, sir. Would you like to et with him this afternoon?"
I consider this for a mont. "Not yet. Let him see how his incompetent son treats potential business partners. The impact might be more devastating that way."
I didn’t co to Canada to babysit soone’s spoiled heir. That’s daddy’s job.
Author’s POV
Just as David Anderson was smugly plotting his next move against Ryan, his father Mr. Anderson stord into ARt Design Company like a man on a mission.
David looked up and imdiately felt his blood run cold.
Mr. Anderson was never one for small talk, but his face looked like a thundercloud—clearly he was here to raise hell.
"Dad, you’re here," David said weakly.
Mr. Anderson shot his assistant a look, and the guy practically sprinted out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
"Dad, you could’ve just called if you needed sothing. Why make the trip yourself?"
Mr. Anderson stared at his son’s fake innocent act and let out a disgusted snort.
"You know damn well what you did."
"ARt is way out of its league ssing with the Blackwoods."
David’s face went white as a sheet—he hadn’t expected word to travel this fast to his father.
That tone of voice was all too familiar. He was about to get his ass handed to him.
Had he really screwed up this badly?
"Dad, let explain—Ryan ca here about the LUXE situation, and I was just trying to squeeze out so extra leverage for ARt."
"Are you out of your fucking mind?!"
Mr. Anderson’s sharp rebuke made David flinch like he’d been slapped.
"You want more leverage, so you resort to these sleazy tactics? You have no idea who you’re dealing with."
David looked genuinely confused.
Ryan was the one who needed sothing from them—why should they kiss his ass?
But seeing his father’s murderous expression, he didn’t dare ask questions.
"Dad, I was wrong."
"If you know you screwed up, then fix it. Go to his hotel yourself and invite Ryan to dinner. Show so goddamn respect."
David’s face twisted with reluctance.
"Dad, going personally seems a bit... excessive."
Mr. Anderson glared daggers at him. "Still running your mouth? Fine, don’t go. I’ll hand this whole thing over to Dino."
Dino was his younger brother, and David sure as hell wasn’t about to hand over any opportunities on a silver platter.
"Dad, don’t be pissed—I’ll have soone reach out to Ryan right now. I’ll make sure we et today."
"I’ll handle the partnership negotiations properly. Ryan won’t find anything to complain about."
Mr. Anderson finally looked satisfied. "You better not screw this up again."
With that, Mr. Anderson walked out, leaving David alone in his office.
David watched his father leave. Despite his resentnt, David followed his father’s orders to the letter.
Ryan’s POV
My phone buzzes with an incoming call—David Anderson himself.
"I have prior commitnts this evening," I reply to his dinner invitation, dismissing him like an afterthought.
His voice tightens with barely concealed frustration. "Mr. Blackwood, you’ve co all this way to Canada—a welco dinner is the least we can do. If tonight doesn’t work, perhaps I could swing by your hotel this afternoon?"
I let the silence stretch just long enough to make him sweat. "Two o’clock, then."
I don’t ask if the ti works for him. I don’t need to. The power dynamic has already flipped exactly as I intended.
After ending the call, I walk to the window, gazing out at the Canadian skyline. Sowhere in this city, Sophie is likely plotting her next move. The thought of her trying to destroy Serena’s reputation ignites ice-cold fury in my chest. I’ve been too lenient in the past, allowed too much sentint to cloud my judgnt.
Not this ti.
My phone rings again—Serena. Her na on my screen instantly shifts sothing fundantal in , softening edges I keep razor-sharp for everyone else.
"How are you feeling?" I ask, my entire deanor changing without conscious effort.
"Better," she says, though sothing in her tone doesn’t sit right with . "The doctor says I just need rest."
My grip on the phone tightens. "You’re still at the hospital?" Concern cuts through like a blade. "What aren’t you telling , Serena?"
"It’s nothing serious," she insists. "Just exhaustion. Focus on your etings there."
I want to push harder, demand the whole truth, but I can hear the fatigue in her voice. "I’ll wrap things up here fast," I promise instead. "Then I’m coming back. No argunts."
After we disconnect, I stare at the phone for a long mont. There’s sothing she’s holding back—I can feel it in my gut. But first, I need to neutralize the imdiate threat.
I check my watch. An hour until Anderson shows up. Just enough ti to review the intel Simon compiled on him and his little empire.
Anderson thinks he’s got over a barrel, that I’ve co crawling to beg for rcy regarding LUXE. By the ti I’m done with him, he’ll know exactly who he tried to ss with.
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