Chapter 6 Lilian
LILIAN
PLAYLIST: SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS – ANTHONY KEYROUZ, ROMY WAVE
Agrin appears on my face as she hangs up.
I am very aware of my ability to get what I desire, and I can’t help but soak in the victory.
Of all the things that are happening right now, I needed it.
The proof of what I can do. It pushes me, exhilarates me.
And it also distracts me from the fact that Mae has moved on.
My fingers search the blank contract I have as a standard.
NDA. Rules of Engagement. Compliance. Secretly, I wonder if she’ll do it.
From what I found about her, she seems to be a romantic through and through, but after meeting her and the call right now, it dawns on me that there is more to her than she lets on publicly.
She is witty, a quick thinker who cuts through superficial bullshit, which makes her even more intriguing to me.
I don’t do romance. I never felt any inclination to have romance in my life. I can fake it to get what I want, but otherwise, I don’t give it a thought. And for most women, it is not enough—exactly the reason why it didn’t work out with Mae.
Romance is for the weak, the love-sick fools.
People will do anything for love and romance, and I monetized that knowledge in my first business, becoming a billionaire in the process.
Building the dating platform has taught me many things about human psychology, and since we’re building Zeus, I learn every day how careless people are with their emotions online—and how easily they can be steered or traced by them.
Just like Ella. The sweet girl, driven by morality, tries not to step on anyone's feet, but doesn’t know what to do with her life. Three things that make her influencable, formable, steerable.
My father once taught me the most important rule of success: to find the right people, you need to identify their drivers and weaknesses. And when you have done so, you exploit both of them.
I followed his advice, unlike my useless brother, who lives a hippie life on some island as a guru, constantly broke, while I became an influential person in society and am by now so obscenely wealthy that he doesn’t speak to me anymore—the best thing that could ever happen.
Thinking back to my father, I dial his number as I click to send the contract to Ella so I can switch into my business mindset.
“Hi Father,” I say when he answers the phone.
“Lilian,” he answers, “Rough patch?”
“Yes, but manageable. You know I am always prepared.”
“Of course, I taught you so.”
“Where are you right now? Are you in the country?” I ask.
My father generally resides in Monaco; “The climate is the best” for him, he tells us. The climate is nothing but a synonym for young flesh that gives him blowjobs.
Urgh. Just thinking of it makes me shudder.
My father is also the reason why I do contracts. His name floods the magazines any other week because he has been seen with yet another girl who’s a minimum of fifteen years younger than me. It is his weakness, and I learned to live with it.
On the other hand, he is one of the most successful businessmen on this planet.
After me. Because I was crowned queen by the Time magazine last year, not him.
Something that didn’t sit well with his ego and led to several headlines about him being seen with girls who were speculated to be younger than eighteen.
Something we all tried to reason with him, but our attempts got us shut down.
He is an extraordinary consultant for founders and has helped me get where I am today, which is also why I’m calling.
“Do you need me to be there?” he asks.
“Not necessarily. I was wondering if you have any advice on how to handle the pending approval. The FBI officially classified Jared's death as an overdose, so we should be able to proceed now, shouldn’t we?”
“Depends. I’d bring in a high-profile interim CFO, someone like Ian Wincester or Les Lamont. I can put you in touch. Make an offer that’s above a million and offer shares, above five.”
“That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
“It’s bait. It shows your willingness to invest. You won’t get them without.
They’re both very well connected everywhere, especially on Wall Street.
Their name means high-quality work, and it’ll secure you the approval.
They’ll turn down the million and make you give them more shares. Be prepared for that.”
Yes, they may be good. But they’ll see within one second that the books aren’t okay. And that’ll be an issue.
“What if I found inconsistencies in Jared’s work?”
“Come on, Lil. You know what to do. Blame it on him; it fits the overdose, guilt. I’ll give Ian a call; he knows how to navigate the waters. Await his call.”
“Thanks, Father.”
“Tell your mother I’ll be there for her birthday if you speak to her. She’s not talking to me right now.”
“What did you do?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“One of the girls lied about her age, not that I care. But your mother does, you know how she is, all emotional.”
“Meh,” I say. My mother has a valid point, but I can't criticize my father, and he's right that she's too emotional. “I don’t think I’ll talk to her anytime soon. I have better things to do than listen to the fourth season of Banging Phil the Tennis Trainer.”
My father's rich laughter rolls through the speaker.
“That’s my girl,” he says. “See you then, I’ll bring some of the champagne you liked.”
“Look forward to it,” I say with a sardonic tone.
Both of us deeply despise my mother’s birthday parties, but attending is inevitable—failure means consequences.
My father has done everything possible to avoid his attendance by bringing his sugar babes—that's how my mother started her affair with the tennis trainer, the house decorator, and the twenty-three-year-old cook.
Consequently, my father and I drink. A lot.
We hang up, and I stare out of the window for a moment. We are almost at the office. I feel strange setting foot in there after everything that had happened. My head twitches slightly when we come to a halt in front of the office.
“Everything’s checked,” says Doug, “We have eyes everywhere.”
He gets outside and maneuvers me into the company; my eyes linger on the shattered glass where the bullet hit.
“They’re replacing it tomorrow,” says Doug. “Let’s get upstairs.”
I can see he is on full alert, although he never loses his head. He’s been working for me for such a long time now that I can recognize the most minor differences.
I reach our floor as my phone rings. I step into a meeting room and answer; it’s Ian Wincester. My father has briefed him, so Ian gets straight to the point.
We discuss the IPO, the halt, and Jared. I note that there might have been some inconsistencies. I appreciate Ian's efficiency, which stands in contrast to Jared's approach. It's a pleasure to converse with someone as precise as I am. Therefore, I extend him the offer, following my father's advice.
I open my laptop to take notes on the conversation, but I get distracted.
Ella answered my email.
My heart races with anticipation as I click on it.
Tempting, but no.
I read her three words, and my mind shuts down. A smirk appears on my face. I love a brat, and my inner huntress is triggered. I will get you. Now more than ever.
“Lilian, are you there?” I hear Ian say through my phone. I have completely forgotten I was talking to him.
“Sorry, my connection was unstable. Can you repeat what you said? I only got some words,” I say to maneuver myself out of the situation. I have to fucking focus.
“Certainly. I’d suggest we reduce the cash component and reallocate it into equity—preferably options, with standard vesting and IPO acceleration.”
I smirk knowingly; he knows what he was doing.
We agree on terms after several rounds of back-and-forth, but I am certain it’ll be worth it. If I don’t get it done by now, it might become a no-way-back issue, so I agree to the terms.
Ian will arrive on Monday, and I’ll organize everything in the meantime: government clearing, contracts, and compliance.
But before I do anything else, I stare at the email Ella sent me and hit reply.
You
You do know that I don’t take no for an answer?
I stare at the screen; it only takes a minute for her reply to come through.
Ella
Watch me
I read Ella’s message, and it stirs something deep within me—a wave of desire that comes with the distinct knowledge that I can’t have her. Not now, but I will.
Throughout the day, I am distracted.
I rarely curse, but lately, stress has led me to do so more often, and when I snap at my assistant the fourth time, I know I need to leave that behind once I arrive at my mother’s birthday party. My father will kill me if so much as hear me curse.
My mother’s birthday. Another thing on my list that distracts me.
But first and foremost, my mind wanders off to Ella.
Her smirk, her straightforwardness, her smile, the body, the shyness—though I am not sure how much of a mask that is, and there is also the fact that she says no to me continuously.
I meet with the lawyers, but I can’t focus. My mind is preoccupied with ideas for persuading Ella to sign the contract.
I nod without knowing what I agree to, as I plan my next move. I excuse myself for a moment to go to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face, Doug following me from door to door.
For some moments, I stand there, leaning onto the wooden vanity top and glance at myself in the mirror.
“You need to focus,” I tell my mirror-self.
My eyes look tired, and the fine lines around them and my mouth deepen each week. Lack of sleep over the past weeks, months, or even years is showing on my skin. In three years, I will turn forty, and I can't let that be apparent on my face.
I push myself off and message my assistant on Slack to book the best dermatologist he can find before returning to the meeting. As I step through the door, I turn to Doug. I need to get Ella out of my mind.
“Get someone to watch her every move. I want to know what she likes, what she is into, what she hates, and what she yearns for. Put Zeus on her. I want a full profile, all the handles, search queries, everything.”
Doug cocks an eyebrow at me.
“Don’t,” I hiss at him. “I want her, and I need to know what I have to do to get her.”
“You could ask her,” Doug says, and I snort out in disbelief.
“Where would the fun be?” I ask as I open the meeting room door.