Chapter 15
T he clock on the corner of my screen reads 8:02 AM.
I check my watch to confirm it’s right, a hot coil of irritation already forming beneath my ribs. She’s late. It’s just two minutes—but two minutes late for a client who pays millions could end a contract in a heartbeat. It’s unacceptable.
And she knows better.
Sienna’s been under my sponsorship for a month, and we still haven’t moved past the first goddamn lesson: You can’t control a room if you can’t control yourself first.
She wants reasons, explanations for everything I ask her to do. It’s exhausting. I understand the reason behind it—she’s mistrustful by nature, wary of the unknown. Useful qualities, but dangerous if not honed correctly.
That mistrust needs to become intuition. She needs to be able to anticipate and deliver without question. Without hesitation.
But we aren’t there yet.
She isn’t there yet.
I drum my fingers once on the desktop, teeth clenching together. I’m not accustomed to waiting on anyone. The fact that it’s her makes it even worse.
Sienna’s outward signs of frustration have become bolder, harder to ignore. It tests my patience, makes my palm itch with the urge to bend her over this desk and correct the brattiness out of her—the way I would at The Devil’s Playground.
The way she needs.
But I can’t.
So instead, I ball my hand into a tight fist, breathing through the steady, building heat beneath my skin.
The door finally opens. 8:03 AM.
Sienna rushes in, the clack of her heels sharp against the marble floors, auburn hair wild around her shoulders.
She’s agitated.
Flushed.
She drops her bag onto the chair beside her without looking up, and when she does finally glance at me, the tension in the room spikes immediately.
I don’t return her gaze. Instead, I turn a page in the stack of reports on my desk, my voice cold and steady.
“You’re late.”
Her lips part. She exhales audibly, frustration evident in her tone even before the words leave her mouth. “The subway was down. I can’t exactly control public transportation.”
I flick my gaze up to meet hers then, letting the weight of my displeasure linger in the heavy silence. She holds it for two seconds before looking away.
Barely.
But she rolls her eyes on the way down, and the palm at my side twitches again.
She has no idea how thin my patience is wearing—or what it’s costing me to hold myself back.
Three minutes. An eye roll. A sarcastic remark.
I won’t let it slide. Not this time.
But the intercom on my desk buzzes, interrupting before I can address it. “Mr. Vale? Jaxon Kane is here to see you.”
“Send him in,” I say without breaking my stare.
Sienna settles into her chair, clearly sensing my mood.
I straighten, pulling my cuffs into place, watching as Jaxon strolls through the door with his usual laid-back confidence.
I would invite her to join the meeting if she could get past this first fucking lesson.
But I won’t.
Not until she learns how to sit still.
Not until she learns how to control herself.
Jaxon smirks at me, amusement in his eyes as he clocks my mood instantly. He tosses a small device on my desk and settles in the chair across from me.
He gives me a mock two-finger salute in greeting.
“What the fuck is this?” I bark out the question and immediately glower at Sienna.
She’s not looking at us but Jaxon sees it.
His cocking fucking grin widening. “So, I take it I’ll be seeing you at the gym tonight then.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Move it along Jax. I have more appointments.”
"An untraceable tracker for your girls," Jaxon explains casually, leaning back and threading his hands behind his head. "Just tack it down with a bit of nail glue and paint over it with nail polish. If your girls pass through security scanners—even the handheld wands—they shouldn't detect it."
I pick up the baggie, examining the small metallic device carefully between my fingers. It’s barely bigger than a fleck of glitter. “How long does it last?”
I notice Sienna perk up slightly. Her curiosity getting the better of her but she corrects herself quickly.
Jaxon shrugs, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve to reveal heavy ink across his wrist. "Month, maybe two, depending on wear and tear."
He leans forward, grabbing the wireless keyboard from the corner of my desk.
With a few fast keystrokes my desktop monitor flickers to life. I watch as he navigates into the updated Ledger Companion app, entering an admin login that immediately brings up a city map.
At the center, a green dot pulses steadily over the Ledger skyrise.
I raise an eyebrow, impressed despite myself. “This is live?”
"Real-time," he confirms, nodding slowly. “Instantaneous updates. Encrypted end-to-end, completely anonymous and private. You’ve got eyes everywhere without anyone knowing."
“How many of these do you have?”
“Just the prototype.” Jaxon shoots me a knowing look, a smug smirk playing on his lips. “Thought you might want to test it out before we manufacture more.”
Instinctively, my gaze slides toward Sienna, still sitting quietly in the corner.
She’s pretending not to listen, staring straight ahead with that carefully practiced neutral expression—except for the slightest roll of her eyes as she releases an irritated sigh.
My jaw clenches. She’s walking a dangerous fucking line today.
“Sienna,” I say, forcing calmness into my voice even as irritation threads through it.
She lifts her head, turning toward me slowly.
A defiant spark flashes in those bright blue eyes as she meets mine head-on. "Lucian," she replies evenly, matching my patience with her carefully controlled tone.
Jaxon fucking gleams at the interaction.
I pick up the baggie, placing it pointedly at the edge of the desk nearest her. “How about you run down to the spa and get your nails done.”
After a pause. “Red, of course.”
Her gaze flares again, but she quickly reins herself back in, lips pressing into a thin line as she stands, gracefully retrieving the small plastic bag without another word. “Of course,” she answers tightly, turning swiftly on her heel and heading for the door.
Her hair brushes along her back with each irritated step, until her steps fade into silence.
I exhale slowly as the door shuts behind her, leaning back in my chair and pinching the bridge of my nose again.
Jaxon lets out a low whistle, amusement radiating off him in waves.
“Don’t fucking start, Jax,” I warn him, narrowing my eyes. “Just tell me how long it’ll take to make more.”
Jaxon’s grin is back, wider this time, as he leans deeper into the chair. “You know, Luc, if you actually told me what we’re protecting against, I could probably be more helpful.”
I narrow my eyes, but say nothing as I rise from my seat and head over to the espresso machine tucked into the custom cabinetry behind my desk.
The familiar routine settles me, grounds my scattered thoughts. I pull two small white porcelain cups from the overhead shelf and position them beneath the machine, the strong, rich aroma of espresso quickly filling the air.
“I’ve told you what you need to know,” I reply carefully, not turning around as I speak. “There’s a potential threat against my business. Specifically my girls.”
“Potential.” Jaxon snorts softly, the skepticism thick in his voice. “Come on. You called me in, rushed a complete overhaul of your systems, and just ordered your star recruit to put a tracker on herself. That doesn’t sound ‘potential.’ It sounds inevitable.”
The machine hums softly, and two perfect shots of espresso drip steadily into the waiting cups. I take a slow breath before responding, turning to glance at Jaxon over my shoulder. His expression is curious, sharp, intelligent—like always.
But beneath that, I see genuine concern.
“I’m being careful,” I finally say, choosing each word with precision. “We’ve had threats before, but this one’s different. Personal.”
Jaxon’s eyes narrow slightly, picking up on the undertone immediately. “Personal how?”
“An old acquaintance,” I explain carefully, lifting the cups from the machine and placing them onto matching saucers. “One who’s decided to make his problems mine.”
I cross the office, setting one cup on the desk in front of Jaxon and taking a slow sip of my own. The espresso slides down my throat, hot and dark, sharpening my senses. Jaxon’s fingers curl around his cup, but he doesn’t lift it yet, his gaze thoughtful as he studies me.
He raises one brow. “Organized?”
I don’t confirm or deny it outright, just offer a subtle nod. “Enough to warrant caution. Enough to justify locking down every system I have.”
Jaxon finally takes a sip, eyes assessing. “Fair enough. But if this gets bigger than tech?—”
“I have security already in place for that,” I interrupt quietly, knowing exactly where his thoughts are headed. “I appreciate it, Jax, but I need you focused solely on the infrastructure.”
He nods slowly, clearly dissatisfied with my limited disclosure but knowing better than to push me further.
“Then I’ll have your new servers delivered by next week, backups running immediately after that. The rest will take time, but it’ll be impenetrable when it’s done.”
I give a small, satisfied nod. “Good.”
Jaxon finishes the espresso, sets down his cup, and rises from the chair. He pauses by the door, turning back with his usual cocky smirk. “By the way—your recruit is cute.”
I glare at him, but he holds up his hands, surrendering with a laugh. “Relax, boss. I’m not suicidal.”
He’s still chuckling when the door clicks shut behind him.
* * *
N early an hour later, Sienna returns, stepping into my office quietly. She lingers just inside the doorway, freshly painted nails a vibrant, deep red that catches the afternoon sunlight. My gaze narrows slightly, tracing the vivid hue on her fingertips. I half-expected defiance—an act of subtle rebellion to test me—but she's done exactly as she was told.
I’m irritated that she didn’t disobey…and strangely disappointed that she listened.
But her obedience deserves a reward, at least for now.
“Good,” I say smoothly, leaning back in my chair. Her eyes lift sharply to mine, wary but brightening slightly at my praise. I allow a measured pause before continuing, “I’ve got a job for you.”
Interest flickers openly across her expression, and for a split second, she's nearly giddy before quickly schooling her features. The determination to hide her eagerness amuses me, but I don’t let it show.
“My next appointment is a long-standing client who's indicated he wants to close his Ledger account,” I explain, watching her closely. “I want you to entice him to reconsider.”
Her brow furrows delicately, confusion mixed with genuine concern. “How exactly am I supposed to do that?”
Before I can answer, my assistant’s voice crackles over the intercom. “Mr. Vale, your next appointment is here.”
Perfect timing.
I rise smoothly from my chair, buttoning the top button of my jacket as I cross the room. “Convince him to stay with only your presence.” Pausing near her, I lower my voice, the command slipping from me effortlessly. “Don't say a single word to him the entire time.”
She blinks, clearly startled, lips parting to argue—but the door opens, cutting off any further protest.
Long time vendor and client of The Ledger, Mateo Calderón steps into my office with an ease that belies the tension beneath his careful smile. He reaches forward, his grip firm as we shake hands.
“Lucian,” Mateo says warmly, though the warmth doesn’t quite touch his eyes. “It’s been a while.”
“Mateo,” I return evenly, gesturing toward the plush seating area opposite my desk. “Good to see you. Please, sit.”
He nods, settling onto one of the leather chairs with practiced casualness.
My hand moves to the small of Sienna’s back as I guide her away from my desk, toward the sitting area with us. Mateo follows her every step as she crosses in front of me to take the seat next to me.
His gaze drags slowly over her, openly possessive. It's subtle enough that someone less attuned wouldn't notice, but my jaw tightens at the implication.
It irritates me—and something darker coils deep in my gut. Protectiveness flares unexpectedly, making my muscles tense.
“Lucian. I appreciate you seeing me so promptly.”
“Of course,” I reply evenly, leaning back against the leather sofa, one arm casually over the back. “Though, I’m surprised at your request. You've been in good standing with the Ledger since the beginning.”
Mateo shifts slightly, clearly uncomfortable. “It's not personal, Lucian. But... certain complications have arisen.”
“Complications,” I repeat slowly, tilting my head in faux-curiosity. “Care to elaborate?”
His eyes flick briefly to Sienna again, lingering far too long before returning to mine. I suppress the immediate urge to wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her next to me. Mateo clears his throat, clearly struggling to maintain focus.
“You understand I do business with a variety of clients,” he says carefully, gaze lowering as he chooses his words. “There’s pressure building from DeLuca. Rumors of...tension between you.”
My shoulders tighten imperceptibly. So, Lorenzo is finally making moves.
It’s about fucking time.