Chapter 12 Lucian
LUCIAN
Blake stood in my office doorway wearing a thousand-dollar suit and an expression that suggested the world owed him everything.
At nineteen, he already carried himself with the arrogance I recognized from my own younger self, but layered with an entitlement I'd never possessed. Old money confidence mixed with new money ambition.
"Dad." He strode forward and shook my hand firmly, like he'd practiced it just to impress or intimidate me.
"Blake, you look well."
He did look well. Tall, lean, expensively groomed. The kind of young man who'd never questioned whether doors would open for him.
I felt a familiar pang of guilt watching him—this polished stranger who happened to share my DNA.
I hardly knew him now, though I knew his expense account and where his money was spent. It was a bitter spot in my thoughts, but I pushed it aside to appreciate that he was here.
"Tessa should be joining us shortly," I said, gesturing toward the sitting area. "I want you to meet her before we discuss your summer plans."
"The assistant?"
The dismissive tone in his voice set my teeth on edge, but I kept my temper in check. "Executive assistant. She keeps this place running."
Blake settled into the leather chair across from my desk, his posture relaxed but his eyes calculating. "I'm sure she's very capable." He looked a lot like his mother, which turned my stomach.
But he couldn’t help where his DNA came from. And I wouldn’t penalize him for my poor choice in a partner years ago.
The words were polite enough, but something in his delivery suggested he found the entire conversation beneath his interest. I was about to respond when Tessa knocked on my office door.
"Come in," I called, and she entered wearing a charcoal dress that was both professional and flattering, her chestnut hair pulled back in a neat braid. She walked in seeming confident, but I caught the slight tension in her shoulders.
Meeting my children was new territory for both of us. It was a necessary evil if Blake was going to be working here, but that wasn't what made me nervous about this meeting.
"Blake, I'd like you to meet Tessa Wynn. Tessa, this is my son Blake."
Blake rose from his chair as was expected of him, but his handshake was perfunctory at best. A brief squeeze and release, his attention already shifting back to me.
"Nice to meet you," he said without looking at her directly.
"It's a pleasure, Blake. Your father speaks of you often."
"Does he?" Blake's eyebrows rose slightly. "How interesting."
I gestured for both of them to sit, noting how Blake positioned himself to face me rather than include Tessa in our conversation circle.
The subtle dismissal was deliberate, and if I were a better father, maybe I'd have pointed it out. But guilt still gnawed at my chest. I had no idea how to encourage my son to act more human.
"Blake is considering joining Cross Capital after graduation," I explained to Tessa. "I thought it would be valuable for him to understand how our executive team functions."
"Of course. I'd be happy to explain any of our processes."
Blake's smile was polite but cold. "That's very generous, but I think I'll be working more closely with actual management once I'm here."
The words hit their target. I watched color rise in Tessa's cheeks, saw her hands tighten slightly in her lap. But her voice remained steady when she responded.
"Naturally, though, you might find that understanding support functions gives you better insight into overall operations."
"I'm sure that's valuable for some people." Blake's tone suggested he wasn't among them. "But I think it's important to know the difference between staff and management from the beginning." His expression turned cold and his eyes narrowed on her before he turned back to me.
My jaw tightened. The disrespect was becoming less subtle by the moment.
"Tessa attends executive meetings," I said carefully. "She provides valuable analytical insights."
"Does she?" Blake turned to study Tessa with new interest, but not the good kind. "How unusual. Most assistants don't sit in on executive discussions."
"Most assistants don't have Tessa's qualifications."
"What qualifications are those, exactly?"
The question was directed at me, but phrased to exclude Tessa entirely. As if she weren't sitting three feet away from him.
"I have a finance degree and have been working in investment analysis," Tessa said quietly.
Blake nodded without really listening. "That's nice. Though I have to wonder if there might be some… confusion about roles here."
"What do you mean?" I asked, though I suspected I already knew.
"Well, it seems like perhaps some support personnel have overstepped their positions. It happens sometimes when boundaries aren't clearly maintained."
The words were delivered cruelly, and I found myself ready to tell him off.
Not because his words wounded me, but because of what they did to Tessa.
I watched her face carefully compose itself professionally, and she retreated behind the mask she wore when men dismissed her.
Then something inside me snapped.
"That's enough." My voice cut across the room with enough force to make Blake blink in surprise.
"I'm sorry?"
"You will show respect to everyone in this office, regardless of their position. Tessa has earned her place here through talent and hard work, not through anyone's charity."
Blake's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't mean any disrespect—"
"Yes, you did. And it stops now."
The room fell silent. Tessa was staring at me with wide eyes, clearly not expecting me to defend her so forcefully. Blake looked stunned, as if he'd never heard me raise my voice before.
Which was probably true. I'd been an absent father, but when I was present, I'd been permissive to the point of negligence. Guilty about my absence, I'd rarely disciplined either of my children.
"Dad, I think there's been a misunderstanding—"
"The only misunderstanding is yours. You walk into my office acting entitled to a job you haven't earned, showing disrespect to a colleague who's forgotten more about finance than you've learned, and you think that's acceptable behavior?"
Blake's face was flushing now, embarrassment and anger warring in his expression. "I was just trying to understand the corporate structure—"
"By insulting people? By suggesting they've overstepped boundaries you know nothing about?" I stood up, my own anger building. "Is that what they're teaching you about leadership at that expensive school I'm paying for?"
"Mr. Cross," Tessa said softly, "it's all right."
But it wasn't all right. Nothing about this was all right. Watching my son treat the woman I—
The thought stopped me cold. The woman I what?
The woman I loved?
I had to press my hand to my chest, flattening my tie down across my stomach to mask how shocked I felt.
I was in love with Tessa Wynn.
Completely, irrevocably in love with her. And watching someone disrespect her—even my own son—made me want to tear the room apart.
"No," I said, my voice quieter but no less firm. "It's not all right. Blake, you need to apologize to Tessa. Now."
My son looked between us as confusion and bitterness oscillated in his expression. "I apologize if I gave the wrong impression, Tessa. That wasn't my intention."
It was a politician's apology, meaningless and self-serving. But Tessa nodded graciously.
"Thank you, Blake. No hard feelings."
Her grace in the face of his rudeness only made me love her more. And made me angrier at him.
"I think we should reschedule this conversation," I told Blake. "After you've had time to think about whether you're ready to conduct yourself professionally."
Blake stood, his jaw tight with humiliation and resentment. "Fine. But Dad, I hope you'll think about what I said. About maintaining appropriate boundaries."
After he left, slamming the door behind him, the office felt eerily quiet. Tessa remained seated, her hands folded in her lap.
"I'm sorry," I said. "That was inexcusable."
"He's young. He doesn't understand how things work yet."
"That's not an excuse for disrespect." I wanted to reach for her, but we were in the office and I knew the hellfire that would rain down.
"I've dealt with worse." She stood gracefully, smoothing her dress. "Much worse."
"You shouldn't have to deal with it at all. Especially not from my son."
She looked at me then, something soft and questioning in her eyes. "Why did you defend me so forcefully? He's your son."
Because I love you, I wanted to say. Because the thought of your having someone else's baby makes me insane with jealousy. Because I want you to have my baby, carry my child, build a life with me.
But the words stuck in my throat. What right did I have to those feelings, to those wants? She was twenty-six with her whole life ahead of her. I was a forty-eight-year-old man who'd already failed at fatherhood once.
"Because you deserve respect," I said instead.
She nodded slowly, but I could see she sensed there was more to it. "I should get back to work."
"Of course."
She stood slowly and walked out of the room, and I slumped into my chair and ran my hands through my hair.
My emotional awakening at that very moment was anything but liberating. I felt suffocated and trapped and yet on cloud nine all at once.
I loved her. And she was planning to have another man's baby.
The thought of some anonymous donor's child growing inside her made me physically ill. It should be my child. My baby she was carrying. My future she was planning.
But what could I offer her? A relationship with a man old enough to be her father? A stepmother role to adults almost her age who could barely tolerate me? A life constrained by scandal and gossip?
My phone buzzed with a message from Daniel Mercer, my CFO.
Daniel: 3:47 PM: Need to talk. Board members asking questions about Tessa's role. Patterson specifically mentioned her presence in executive meetings? This is moving beyond gossip…
My blood went cold. Of course the board had noticed. Nothing happened at Cross Capital without eventually reaching the top tier of management.
I stared at the message as my thoughts raced. If the board was questioning Tessa's role, it meant they were questioning mine too. My judgment. My priorities. My fitness to lead the company.
I sank deeper into my chair and buried my face in my hands. What was I doing? Risking my career, my company, my children's inheritance for a woman who was planning a future without me?
I was too old for this. Too old to be falling in love. Too old to be dreaming of babies and second chances. Too old to believe that someone as young and brilliant as Tessa could want a life with a damaged man approaching fifty.
The smart thing would be to end this now. Before the board acted. Before the gossip became a scandal. Before I destroyed everything I'd built chasing something I could never have.
But sitting there in my empty office, all I could think about was the way she'd handled Blake's disrespect with such dignity.
The way she'd looked at me when I defended her. The way she fit against me in the darkness of my bedroom.
Smart had never been my strong suit when it came to Tessa Wynn.