Chapter 47
Pulling into the parking lot, I leaned back against the seat and let my gaze settle on the building ahead. My fingers drummed lightly on the leather steering wheel while I waited for my secretary's confirmation.
The chime of my phone broke the silence. I unlocked the screen, and a slow smirk curved my lips at the message: "DeLacroix has confirmed that you may arrive earlier than scheduled, Ms. Sloane."
Snapping the phone shut, I reached for my handbag on the passenger seat, turned off the engine, and stepped out of the car.
The door closed with a clean thud, but my eyes lingered on the sleek fa?ade of the building rising before me—every inch of it dripping with luxury.
Inside the lobby, I could feel the weight of glances trailing after me, curious and assessing, but I didn't bother to acknowledge them. My heels clicked across the polished floor as I approached the concierge, offering a faint, practiced smile.
"Good afternoon," I said, lifting my hand in a casual wave. "I'm here for Aurora DeLacroix. I have an appointment with her."
The young woman straightened, her voice professional but tinged with curiosity. "For verification purposes, ma'am, may I have your name?"
"Sloane," I replied smoothly. "Sloane Duvall of Duvall Capital Group."
Her composure faltered for a heartbeat. She blinked, then glanced quickly at her screen before looking back at me with a faint, nervous smile. "Yes, ma'am. Ms. DeLacroix is expecting you."
She stepped from behind the desk and gestured toward the elevator hall. "This way, please." With a press of her manicured finger, the elevator doors slid open. She gave me a subtle nod before retreating back to her station.
I entered the elevator alone. My reflection in the mirrored wall stared back at me, perfectly composed, yet my grip tightened on the strap of my handbag. I had planned this moment for years, rehearsed every angle of control.
This would be the first time Aurora and I faced each other again. She was expecting my representative. She had no idea it would be me instead of Soeren.
And that, I thought with a faint, razor-edged smile, would be my first advantage.
A soft chime echoed inside the elevator, and I glanced at the panel—her floor. Stepping out, I looked left, then right, when a woman—likely Aurora's secretary—approached.
She paused mid-step, blinking at me. "Ms. Duvall?" she asked, her eyes flicking down to the tablet in her hands.
I smiled and nodded. "Hi. Our representative couldn't make it, so I'm here in person."
The woman returned the smile and led me down the corridor. Through the glass wall I could see Aurora seated behind her desk. The woman paused at the door, knocked once, and opened it. She motioned me in; I followed.
"Ms. Aurora," the woman said, bowing to Aurora, who didn't look up. "Duvall Capital Group is here."
"Thank you, Celeste," Aurora replied, rising with a polite smile—and then she froze the moment she saw me. Her eyes blinked, as if she were staring at a ghost.
My brow lifted. Shocked to see me again, Aurora? I thought.
What unsettled me was the pounding in my own chest. I hadn't seen her in person for so long—only in tabloid photos and headlines, never face-to-face.
"I'll excuse myself, Ms. Aurora, Ms. Duvall," the secretary said, bowing to both of us before she slipped out of the office.
Aurora didn't move.
She just stared at me, as if trying to pin down something long buried.
I let her look. Of course she was shocked—I'd been a headline for months.
A figure in magazines, a rumor in every gossip column.
But I was more than a story now. I had come back to the one person who had once mattered enough to change the course of my life.
She finally blinked. There was something raw and unguarded in her face that didn't belong in the glossy photographs. Good. I would make her look at the past she'd been pretending didn't exist. I would force her to look.
Her gaze dropped to the documents on her desk, scanning them as though searching for some discrepancy.
"My representative couldn't make it, so I'm here—the founder herself," I said with a shrug. I swallowed a lump at the sight of her: elegant, poised, every detail of her clothes screaming wealth.
She braced her hands on the desk and met my eyes. For a moment, I almost forgot how to breathe. But I hadn't come here to make amends. I had come to unsettle her, to ruin her the way she had ruined me a decade ago.
"Sol..." she whispered.
She was still using that name. I almost scoffed. I hadn't heard it in years; she had been the only one who ever called me that.
I smiled.
"Feels like forever, Ro," I teased, using the nickname I had once given her.
"Last I checked, you were ruling Monaco's luxury houses, running subsidiaries under Veraux Holding.
And now..." I pointed at her. "You're on the brink of bankruptcy. Karma finally caught up?"
She didn't answer. She just stared at me, as if she were still processing what I'd said. I waited. After a long beat, she pushed back from her desk and crossed the office to me, two portfolios clutched in her hands.
"This way," she said, motioning toward the couch. I sat, set my handbag beside me, crossed one leg over the other, and watched her. Up close, she looked paler than I remembered—almost translucent. I cleared my throat; she noticed me looking.
"I'll be direct." She set a portfolio on the coffee table and slid it across. "My company needs your help. We lost a substantial revenue stream." She rubbed her temple and gave a short, brittle laugh.
I didn't say anything.
I picked up the folder and flipped it open.
I'd already read most of the figures—I'd seen to that—but I scanned the pages as if I were finding them for the first time.
Numbers marched across the sheets: small siphons that ballooned into tens of billions.
My mouth curled with something like amusement and contempt.
My brow rose as I scanned their accounting. The sheet showed tens of billions, but I had instructed Monsieur Bianchi to push it to the hundreds. My eyes jumped to the blank lines where the rest should have been. There it was—the missing hundreds of billions.
"Embezzlement, huh?" I whispered, snapping the portfolio shut. Aurora straightened in her chair. "How many investors have pulled out?"
"Almost half." Aurora's fingers fidgeted; her throat bobbed. "With the losses we've faced, there's no way they'd stay. Tens of billions have been taken out of the company, not just thousands."
I said nothing and just watched her.
"Look, I know it's a huge amount at stake, and I understand if you can't—" she began.
I tossed the portfolio onto the table and stood. I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window behind her and stared at the horizon. I knew exactly what I was doing, and what I needed to secure: a foothold in her company—and in her life.
"My company can help." I turned; she met my gaze. Her hand tightened on the armrest as if looking for purchase.
"What's at stake?" she asked.
I crossed the room, smiling—a deliberate, dangerous smile.
I rested my hand on the arm of the couch, inches from hers.
Her scent reached me, the same intoxicating note that had once undone me.
Her silver eyes were still cold and almost expressionless; my gaze slid from her lips back up to those eyes.
The air between us thinned until I could feel her breath against my skin.
"You know this is still business, right?" I murmured, my fingers grazing her cheek before I straightened, crossing my arms. I looked down at her as she glanced up at me. That's right, look up at me, Aurora.
She nodded; her gaze locked on mine. Standing this close to her pulled memories from the past—sweet, poisonous memories. But right now? I wanted to break her until she begged me to save her. Until she was on her knees.
"I'll secure half of the investors you've lost and bring in new capital," I said, leaning closer, my voice low and deliberate.
"In return, I want a seat on the board of directors and to become a major shareholder.
You'll remain the owner and CEO, but my stake will be larger than yours. "
I want to control everything in your life, Aurora. And I'll start with your company.
"I can give you the initial funds to recover from the losses and keep bankruptcy off your doorstep. The media will announce a joint partnership."
"Hold on." She raised a hand between us, standing. I blinked—she was taller than I remembered. "That sounds like you're hijacking my company. You offer the funds, and in return—"
She stopped herself, staring at me as I laughed softly, rolling my eyes. "I'm rescuing your company, Ms. DeLacroix," I sighed. "And giving you tens of billions isn't exactly in my favor. You're the one who stands to gain."
Her jaw tightened, her silver eyes narrowing. Oh, I love how she clenches her jaw. You've got no other choice, Aurora. You're cornered—and there's no way out of me.
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Silence stretched between us. Neither of us moved, locked in each other's gaze. Aurora licked her lips, taking a slow, steady breath before threading her fingers through her hair. She looked every inch the imperiled queen—still regal, but fraying at the edges.
"Sol—" She caught herself, clearing her throat. "Ms. Duvall, I understand your perspective. How about this: I let you own one of my subsidiaries under DeLacroix Couture Luxury House as partial payment. Once the company stabilizes, I'll repay your investment."
I shook my head. "That's not what I want, Ro." My smirk widened at how little leverage she had left.
Stepping closer, I let my fingers graze the edge of her collar. "I want the seat on the board of directors. Take it or leave it." My palm slid onto her shoulder, a calculated touch. "Oh, and before I forget—you don't have to pay me tens of billions."
Aurora blinked, startled. Her lips parted slightly, her brows furrowing. "What do you mean?"
I straightened, letting the weight of my words settle before I spoke. It sounded insane, even to me, but it was the only way to take full control.
"Marry me."
Her jaw dropped. She stared at me as though I'd just suggested setting fire to the building. Of course—what kind of woman proposes marriage to her ex under the guise of a business deal?
"Have you lost your mind, Sloane?" She shoved my hands away, stepping back sharply. "Need I remind you—"
I raised my hand before she could even finish her words. I knew exactly where this was going.
"Aurora DeLacroix," I began, pinning her in place with my stare as if I could glue her there.
"Accept all my terms and save your empire.
Or..." I paused deliberately, letting my gaze travel from head to toe before returning to her face.
"Let it crumble beneath you. You've grown up with everything handed to you, Ro.
How can you step up when you have nothing left? "
Knowing her, she wouldn't survive outside the world she'd been born into. She'd always been wealthy. Maybe that was why she left me back then—because I was out of her league. We were never in the same world.
I looked at her. Something in her eyes caught me off guard—she looked like she wanted to accept, but was still fighting herself.
"But marrying you..." she murmured, her throat bobbing. "Sloane, we're exes."
I nodded, a bitter hum leaving my lips as my expression soured. Did she really need to remind me? Twelve years—twelve fucking years—and I hadn't forgotten we were exes.
A sharp breath escaped me. "Should I thank you for reminding me? Last I checked, we're still exes, and I haven't forgotten."
She stepped closer, heaving a sigh as she gripped my upper arm. "What the hell are you trying to do? You're cornering me!" she hissed, teeth gritted.
My brow arched as I scoffed.
Now she was getting frustrated. "Am I?" My eyes flicked down to her hand on my arm before I pried it off.
"Time's ticking like a bomb, Ro. Accept it or not?
That's your choice. But don't forget—you'll face public scrutiny and bankruptcy if you refuse. Not me." I shrugged.
Aurora gave a nervous laugh and pressed the bridge of her nose. "Are you... sure you want to marry me?"
I didn't respond.
Was I really sure I wanted to marry my ex?
I knew what I wanted—revenge. I wanted her to feel what it was like to be left alone.
But marrying her? My ex? If only Dione hadn't been asking me about her, about marriage, about having a perfect family instead of being left in a world that didn't exist inside Aurora's empire.
Looking at Aurora standing in front of me, a part of me wanted to admit that marrying her still thrilled me—but every time the past came back, it reminded me why I was here.
Marrying her would only be a game. I would marry her for our daughter's sake, and for my revenge.
I would make sure she suffered the same pain—the same way I had suffered before.
"I'll let you think about it," I said, walking back toward the couch where I'd been sitting and grabbing my handbag. "But," I paused, turning to look at her, "don't take too long. My offer is only good for a limited time."
With that, I headed toward the door. My hand hovered over the knob, but I stopped when I heard her voice—that same voice that used to talk to me all the time, soft and familiar, now so strange.
"Sol."
Glancing over my shoulder, I met her eyes once again. "Yes?"
She offered a faint smile, licking her lips. "Take care on your way out. And... give me some time. I'll call with my decision."
I stared at her for a moment before nodding and leaving her office. I should have loathed her, but here I was, manipulating everything just to step back into her life.
A bitter laugh escaped me as I stepped into the elevator. Had circumstances been different back then, Ro... would you have stayed with me? Would you have kept your word and married me?
I shut my eyes as I leaned against the cold elevator wall. Why am I even thinking about her empty promises? It was clear as day she had only used me—used me because I was good in bed, nothing more.
As I stepped out of the elevator, I headed toward the lounge area and sat down, a sharp pain flaring in my Achilles tendon. When I checked, I saw a cut—small but bleeding. I groaned under my breath and opened my handbag, searching for a bandage.
"Where is it?" I whispered to myself, rummaging inside.
"Sol?"
I straightened up, glancing over my shoulder. Aurora stood there, scanning the area before her eyes settled on me. "Waiting for someone?" she asked.
"No," I replied, turning my attention back to my handbag.
She didn't say another word. I assumed she'd left, but then my gaze fell on the floor. A pair of familiar shoes stood in front of me. My throat went dry as I glanced up to find her standing there.
Her eyes flicked to my foot, and instinctively I pulled it back, trying to hide the wound.
She sighed, adjusting her tailored pants before crouching down, one knee on the ground. Her gaze lifted to mine. "Can I check it?" she asked softly, gesturing toward my foot.
I hesitated, breath catching. I should have refused, but it was too late. I nodded, looking away as her hands—those long, sleek, immaculate fingers—lightly touched my leg, examining the cut on my Achilles tendon.
I shut my eyes, shaking my head slightly. What the hell are you thinking, Sloane? She's your ex, my mind hissed.
Aurora reached into the inside pocket of her suit and pulled something out. I blinked when I saw it—a bandage.
"I usually get cuts," she said with a small laugh. "That's why I keep bandages in my pockets, or... somewhere on me." She tore the wrapper and carefully placed the bandage over my wound, pressing it gently to seal it.
"There you go," she said, helping me slide my feet back into my heels.
My face flustered. "Thanks," I whispered, clearing my throat as I stood abruptly.
She rose too, crumpling the bandage wrapper in her hand. I glanced at her, then turned away, striding toward the building exit.
I could feel her presence behind me. I glanced over my shoulder—there she was, walking just a few steps back. Is she seriously following me? I hissed under my breath.
When I reached my car, I spun around sharply. "Hey!" I snapped, glaring at her. "Can you stop following me? Just because I accepted your help doesn't mean you get to tail me everywhere!"
Aurora blinked, tilting her head as she looked at me. A faint smile played on her lips as she pulled something from her pocket. "Well, you're right about not following you, Sol," she said, stepping past me. I turned to watch where she was headed.
She pressed a button in her hand, and the car parked beside mine beeped. I blinked, glancing from her to the car and back again.
"You just happened to park beside my car. I'm not technically following you. Don't overthink it," she said, waving dismissively as she moved toward the driver's side.
She gave me a subtle nod before sliding into her car. My face heated as I scrambled to open my car door, sliding inside and slamming it shut with a thud.
I buried my face in my hands. "What the hell, Sloane? That's so embarrassing!"