Choosing Scarlet (The Network #4)

1. Knox

KNOX

My eyes drift to the massive clock hanging on the far wall of the meeting room.

Each tick feels like it’s itching away at my sanity, one second at a time.

The chatter of the men around me spins circles inside my head, echoing over and over again.

This meeting is nothing short of a complete disaster.

Across the table, Mr. Clarkson keeps trying to squeeze more money out of me. As if that’s ever going to happen. I’ve given him enough time to negotiate, but at this point, I’ve had enough. It’s time to end this.

“We’re paying for the asset as it performs today, Mr. Clarkson,” I say at last. “Not for your dreams or your wishful thinking. Your numbers are childishly optimistic, but they don’t justify a thirty-million-dollar valuation.”

Mr. Clarkson stares at me, his eyes narrowing. He opens his mouth to respond, but I cut him off before he gets the chance. “If we properly analyze the occupancy rates and the cost inflation, and really look at the data this time, you won’t like what we find. Now…”

I rise from my seat. The look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.

I’ve seen this before. Greed mixed with surprise.

He’s not used to being challenged. The man’s bald head shines under the fluorescent lights; his suit’s a little too big for his frame, and the cheap golden watch on his wrist suggests that he’s trying to present himself as something he’s not.

He thought he could play me like many have before him.

After all, he knows I’m wealthy, and he knows I like to invest. That’s what draws them in.

“You’ve done well building these hotels,” I continue.

“But there are flaws, and you know it. You were hoping I wouldn’t notice them.

” I tilt my head slightly, keeping my gaze on him.

“My offer stands as it is. Take it or leave it, I don’t care.

There are thousands of hotels like yours across the country waiting for my investment. ”

Once again, Mr. Clarkson tries to speak, but I lift my hand to stop him. I don’t need to hear another word. I want this meeting to be over.

“My offer will be sent to you. Whether you accept it or not is up to you.”

With that, I sling my hands into my pockets and move toward the door.

Mr. Clarkson mutters something behind me, but it doesn’t reach me.

Instead, it fades into the background noise of my mind.

In my head, the meeting is already over.

There’s no reason to drag it out any longer.

By tomorrow morning, I already know I’ll have that offer signed and sitting on my table.

Outside, my empire waits for me. Aurora Grand, a chain of luxurious hotels, came into my hands when I was twenty-four.

Many people doubted whether I could grow it further.

After all, what could a twenty-four-year-old possibly do with a multi-billion-dollar empire, especially after losing his mother so suddenly and tragically?

I never hesitated to show them. I’ve grown the chain and expanded it beyond anyone’s expectations, and I have no intention of stopping anytime soon. Every decision I make is a step toward transforming this into something my competitors couldn’t even dream of.

The dark beige walls stretch along the hall as I walk toward my office, lined with statues and paintings that cost far more than anyone would guess.

My interior designers insisted they had added a nice touch, so I settled on purchasing them.

Offices line up on either side, and my employees are absorbed in their work.

Some look up and greet me; others nod politely.

It doesn’t matter either way. I acknowledge them all the same.

“Mr. Fisher,” a familiar voice calls from behind me.

I turn to see Adeline, my assistant, stepping forward.

She carries her tablet firmly in her hands, eyes trained on me with that calculating gaze she always wears.

Adeline has been by my side since I first became CEO of Aurora Grand.

With her dark hair neatly pulled into a bun, deep green eyes, and a tall, slim frame always dressed in perfectly tailored professional clothes, she’s a pleasant sight for anyone stepping into my office.

But, beyond that, what I appreciate even more is that she’s efficient, quick, and reliable.

“How did your meeting go?” she asks.

“Well enough,” I say simply, keeping my hands in my pockets. “I expect the contract to be signed by tomorrow morning. Forward it to me when you receive it.”

Adeline nods, and her smile widens just a little. “Fantastic. And of course. I also wanted to remind you about the charity gala at Cascade Point Country Club, which is scheduled for next week. I’m guessing you’ve already pushed it out of your mind, so I thought a little reminder might help.”

Dread hits me immediately. The last thing I want is another evening of forced smiles, superficial conversations, and meaningless networking, but it’s part of the life I’ve chosen and a part of the empire I’ve built. It’s inevitable. It’s necessary. And it’s good for business.

Because it’s all of those things, it’s something I have to do.

“Duly noted. Thank you for the reminder,” I say. The problem isn’t just the gala itself; they’ll expect me to show up with a date after not having one at the last six events. That’s how these events always work. People judge, gossip, and measure influence by appearances.

Thankfully, I already have the solution neatly planned in my mind.

By the time I arrive home, Boa and Tim, my Staffy rescues, wait at the door.

The moment my foot crosses the threshold, they bolt forward, tails wagging, jumping and spinning.

I stumble backward as each of them tries desperately to grab my attention at the same time.

It’s almost comical, like I’ve been gone for years instead of a few hours at work, but it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Both of them had rough starts in life before I rescued them from the shelter, and bringing them home was one of the easiest decisions I’ve ever made.

My days, especially after work, were too quiet. A romantic relationship could have filled that void once upon a time, but I learned the hard way that some things aren’t worth the heartbreak. I burned myself on that before, and I won’t make that mistake again.

Back in college, I was young, foolish, and foolishly trusting. I let my heart shatter completely, and the scars linger. But that was a different life and a different me. One that would never see the light of day again.

“Easy, you two,” I say firmly, holding my hand out as I snap out of those thoughts.

Almost instantly, it’s as if someone flipped a switch.

Boa and Tim freeze mid-motion, sit neatly on the floor, and stare up at me with those wide, obedient eyes.

Treats come easily after that, and their excitement dissolves just a little bit.

Once they settle, I shift my focus to another pressing matter: the charity gala.

I make my way to the leather sofa in my living room, sinking into it with a sigh.

I sweep my gaze over the space around me.

My home reflects exactly how I approach my life: minimalistic, controlled, and intentional.

Dark walls stretch around the room, broken only by a handful of carefully chosen decorative items. Massive windows run along one side of the apartment, letting in natural light that complements the apartment’s muted interiors.

Still, sometimes, it doesn’t feel like this is my home at all.

I pull my phone from my pocket, hesitating for just a moment as I stare at the familiar number saved under The Network.

It’s a high-end company specializing in exquisite women for those who demand nothing short of perfection, whether for intimate encounters or high-profile events like the gala.

This isn’t my first time reaching out to them.

Romantic relationships may be permanently off the table, but desire, pleasure, and human connection in a purely physical sense certainly are not.

The Network ensures those needs are met with discretion and convenience, without any of the complications I’ve learned to avoid.

It’s better that way, after all. The walls I’ve built around myself are far too high now, and I have no intention of letting them down in any way.

Tim and Boa settle by my feet, as if to prompt me to make that move and get it out of my way. My finger sweeps across the number, lingering for a moment, before I finally press dial.

The line only rings twice before it’s picked up.

“Mr. Fisher, how wonderful of you to reach out again,” Tasha says from the other side of the line. She’s my appointed coordinator and has learned my taste. She hasn’t disappointed me once, and I don’t doubt that she’ll get her job done today again. “How can I help you today?”

“I need a date for a formal event,” I say, straight to the point. There’s no point in beating around the bush. “I need someone intelligent who can handle my world. Someone whom I wouldn’t mind being seen with, and someone who can engage in conversation when people approach us.”

“That’s no problem,” Tasha says on the other side of the line.

“Just give me a moment, and I’ll send you a few profiles that you can review.

” The clicking of a keyboard echoes from the other side of the line, and I can already tell she’s working on it.

A brief pause lingers between us before she speaks again. “Anything else, Mr. Fisher?”

“That will be all,” I say. “Thank you.”

With those words, I hang up. Not even a few minutes pass before I receive an email from The Network with a few carefully selected profiles. All of them are gorgeous women who would make any man’s head turn, with credentials that certainly fit the criteria I mentioned.

One of them stands out amongst the others.

Scarlet Perry. The first thing that catches my eye is her vintage glasses in every picture.

She’s twenty-six. Tall and slim, with warm brown eyes and dark hair.

She carries a seductive smile that instantly makes me wonder about her more.

Her areas of interest and hobbies vary; while she’s not in my world, her wide range of interests shows that she can handle herself and has a curiosity I’m sure I’ll appreciate.

That’s exactly what I need for the gala.