Chapter 8
JAVIER
I closed my eyes, dragging a hand through my hair as Jackdaw’s gravelly voice crackled through the line.
“You’re playing in dangerous waters, Javier,” he said, a warning laced with something close to pity. “The man you’re looking for? He’s more a ghost than a man. Even if you somehow find him, you won’t lay a finger on him. You know that, don’t you?”
“All I need is a name and a face,” I said. “The rest, I’ll handle.”
There was a pause, “Fourteen years,” he said finally. “You’ve been hunting him for fourteen years, Javier. I know you’re not the type to let go, but this... this is different.”
“I don’t need a lecture,” I replied. “Do you have what I’m asking for, or not?”
The man sighed. “Be careful, Javier,” he said, his tone quieter now. “You’re getting knee-deep with the Aarle Dynastie. They don’t forgive. They don’t forget. And when they hunt, they don’t stop until there’s nothing left of you to find. If they catch wind of you digging into their affairs—”
“We’ll see about that,” I cut in, my grip tightening on the phone. “You’ve known me long enough to know I don’t scare easy. Not from shadows. Not from ghosts.”
“Not from ghosts,” he echoed, a bitter laugh following his words. “But the Aarles aren’t just shadows, Javier. They’re a storm. And no one survives their storm.”
The silence that followed was uncomfortable. But I wasn’t about to back down. Not now. Not after all this time.
“Do you have what I need, or do I need to find someone else who will?” I asked again, my patience thinning.
He muttered a curse under his breath before speaking. “You’re a damn fool,” he said. “I’ll get it to you. But when this all goes to hell, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said.
I was ready to head out for a meeting when my phone buzzed again. One glance at the message on the screen, and my plans shifted. Renée needed to hear this from me.
When I found her, she was with her usual trio—Elise, Zoe, and Rose. They circled her like satellites, drawn to her as though she was the only source of light in the room. Renée leaned in, laughing in that unguarded way she reserved for them, her expression softer than I was used to. That rare glow in her eyes stopped me in my tracks.
I stayed in the doorway a moment too long, watching her. She didn’t notice me yet, and for once, she looked completely at ease. It suited her, that lightness.
But, of course, I was about to shatter it.
Elise caught my eye, her smile faltering. I didn’t trust her—not the way she watched Renée, nor the way her words always seemed calculated, even when wrapped in sweetness. Something about her screamed trouble, and if there was one thing I trusted, it was my instincts.
Renée finally glanced my way, and the laughter in her eyes dimmed the second she spotted me. Just like that, her walls were back up, her posture straightening.
“Ms. Margot,” I said evenly as I stepped closer.
Her friends exchanged glances. “I’ll catch up with you later,” she told them. They didn’t argue, scattering like birds at the first crack of thunder.
“What happened?” Renée asked, her voice suddenly cool, her gaze sharp.
“It’s about the Blake campaign,” I said. “They’ve given some... feedback.”
Her brow arched. “Feedback?”
“They’re not happy with the direction. They want significant changes. We’re looking at a near overhaul.”
Renée crossed her arms, her expression unreadable as she let the words settle. “An overhaul,” she repeated.
I nodded, watching her closely. Renée wasn’t the type to snap or crumble. She’d absorb the hit, swallow it whole, and keep moving forward. But that didn’t make it easier to deliver news like this.
“This is...” She trailed off, exhaling a slow breath. “Fine. If they want an overhaul, we’ll give them an overhaul. I’ll get my team on it.”
“There’s more,” I said, and her eyes narrowed. “We’re flying to California to meet the client in person. It’s the only way to salvage this deal.”
“What?” Her voice sharpened. “No. You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“Why do I have to go?” she demanded. “Why can’t you handle it? Or send someone else?”
“Because you’re the one who knows the campaign inside and out. You’re the one they trust.”
She groaned, dragging a hand through her hair. “Unbelievable. The annual party is in forty-eight hours, Mr. Densmore. Forty-eight. I’ve been prepping for this for weeks! I just bought a new dress—seriously?”
“If the Blake campaign falls through, there may not be a Lowe Printify to host the party,” I said flatly.
She shot me a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s been said,” I replied, unfazed.
“You know,” she started, “for someone who clearly doesn’t care about anyone else’s plans, you’re surprisingly good at destroying them.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” I said a flicker of amusement tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Another way? I’m saving your career. You’re welcome, by the way.”
She let out a disbelieving laugh, muttering under her breath about needing a raise if she was going to survive a cross-country flight with “the human embodiment of a raincloud.”
As she brushed past me, her shoulder barely grazing mine, she threw me one last withering look. And damn if I didn’t savor every second of it. Renée Margot, in all her fiery, unfiltered glory, could burn me to ashes—and I’d still walk into the flames willingly.
RENéE
I crossed my arms with a sigh, watching as Mr. Kim and his team tossed yet another ridiculous demand onto the pile. Was this some kind of endurance test? I’d lost track of how many impossible expectations they’d rattled off, but I was almost impressed by their consistency. Nearly every request seemed crafted to drive a sane person up the wall. And here I was, the very picture of restraint, only biting back every third sarcastic remark.
And Javier? Calm as a pond. I couldn’t believe it. His eyes moved from one argument to the next, weighing, dissecting, and responding with this cold precision that was almost unnerving. Every time I thought we were a hair's breadth from blowing the deal, he’d step in with some razor-sharp answer that turned the tables. Annoying? Yes. Impressive? Absolutely.
As Mr. Kim threw out another laughably absurd demand, I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Mr. Kim,” I interjected, leaning forward with a smile that was only half-forced, “While we appreciate your enthusiasm for… innovation, asking us to condense three months’ work into one without budget expansion is, let’s say, ambitious.”
Mr. Kim gave a slight nod, but he wasn’t backing down.
“Maybe if you’re aiming for a miracle, but for a real campaign, we need real timelines,” I added. “Pushing like this means corners get cut, and we’re not in the business of turning out sub-par results.”
That earned me a look of surprise from Javier, but he quickly masked it, picking up where I left off.
“Mr. Kim,” he said, voice as smooth as glass, “I understand your concerns. But let’s be realistic—altering the budget like that would derail the timeline and compromise the campaign quality. Neither of us wants that. Instead, I propose a flexible milestone system. It ensures we meet your objectives without risking quality or momentum.”
Mr. Kim squinted, almost as if Javier had conjured magic. “A… flexible milestone system?”
Javier leaned in, gaze steady but polite. “This way, we can deliver results step-by-step, making adjustments as needed. If, at any point, the campaign doesn’t meet your expectations, you’ll have leverage to make changes. But tearing it down now? That’s a loss for everyone.”
I chimed in, giving Mr. Kim’s team a sympathetic smile. “Exactly. This system means we can be agile, adapting to whatever comes up while ensuring you’re not left waiting. Plus, it avoids the… well, the disappointment of a rushed campaign. I think it’s a win-win.”
Mr. Kim glanced at his team, their faces practically glowing with newfound hope, nodding like they’d just stumbled on the meaning of life. “That’s... actually very smart,” Mr. Kim admitted slowly.
Javier allowed himself a faint smile. “We’re here to solve problems, not create new ones.”
And just like that, he’d turned the entire meeting around. As much as I hated to admit it, watching him pull off this victory—poised, precise, and calm—left me a little in awe. While I still wanted to throttle him half the time, I had to admit—he was damn good at what he did.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last signature was scrawled. I practically melted in relief; the deal was saved.
That evening, we found ourselves seated for dinner with Mr. Kim and his team. I leaned back in my chair, savoring the sweet, rare feeling of relaxation as the pressure from the day slowly faded.
“We’re very impressed,” Mr. Kim said, raising his glass to us. “If it weren’t for you two, we might’ve walked away from this entirely.”
I smiled, feeling the last remnants of tension slip from my shoulders. “Thank you. We’re glad we could work things out.”
Then Mr. Kim gave us a warm nod. “In fact, you must come to our annual gala at the Grand Hotel this Thursday. There will be music, dancing, fantastic food—you’ll enjoy it.”
Javier immediately straightened, his mouth opening to decline, and that sealed it for me. He clearly had zero interest in staying an extra day, which made me want to go to the gala even more—just to see that annoyed look on his face.
Before he could shut it down, I cut in, grinning. “We’d love to!”
Javier’s glare could have sliced through steel. His jaw clenched, and I could practically hear the internal war he was fighting, but I didn’t care.
The Uber ride back to the hotel was quiet, but I could feel the tension simmering beside me. Sure enough, as soon as the car door closed behind us, he let loose.
“You know we have plenty of work left. You shouldn’t have accepted the invitation,” he snapped. “I’d arranged our flights for tonight.”
I crossed my arms, meeting his intensity with a calm smile. “Oh, you made me miss the party. Now, I’m making you miss a flight and work that you seem to love so much. Besides, I need my sleep—I was never going to agree to leave tonight.”
His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “This is about that ridiculous party?”
“Yes, Javier! Unlike you, I was actually looking forward to it,” I shot back, holding his gaze without backing down. “So, like it or not, I’m going to the gala.”
He looked like he was about to argue, but I just waved a hand dismissively and turned to the window. “Now, kindly leave me alone until we’re back at the hotel.”