5. Christian
5
CHRISTIAN
Some deals were worth millions. Others were worth billions.
But this one?
This one felt like the most important deal of my life.
Scarlett sat across from me, her arms loosely crossed, her expression thoughtful as she stared at the finalized contract between us.
Her red hair was swept up into a bun, but a few stray strands had slipped free, framing her face in a way that made it impossible not to stare.
She was trying to appear unaffected, like this was just another business decision, but I knew better.
I’d seen the way her fingers had skimmed the edge of the papers moments ago, her nails tapping an absent rhythm as she hesitated.
I’d caught the flicker of excitement in her eyes before she’d schooled her expression into something unreadable.
She wanted this.
And after weeks of discussions, negotiations, and late-night calls that had bled into the early morning, she had finally agreed.
Scarlett Lane was officially my partner.
I finally did it.
I fought the smirk threatening to break across my face.
Instead, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the polished oak desk between us.
“So, that’s it then?” I asked, pretending to sound casual and failing at it.
Scarlett exhaled slowly, then nodded. “That’s it.”
My grin broke free.
I extended my hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Her lips twitched, but she slid her palm against mine, shaking firmly. Her touch was warm, confident—just like her.
Something electric passed between us.
Her fingers lingered a second longer than necessary before she pulled away, clearing her throat.
“I guess we’ll see if we can actually work together without killing each other,” she said.
I chuckled, tilting my head. “Oh, I don’t know, Scarlett. I think we make a great team.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
And just like that, it was done.
The deal was sealed.
Now the real work began.
As soon as Scarlett left the office, I pulled out my phone and dialed.
It rang once before my older brother’s voice came through the line. “Christian.”
I didn’t even try to hide my excitement. “She agreed.”
Cole let out a low hum, the kind that immediately told me he wasn’t going to feed into my moment of victory.
“She agreed to a trial partnership,” he corrected. “Don’t start celebrating just yet.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair. “Jesus, Cole. Can’t you let me have one moment to enjoy this?”
“I’ll let you have a moment when you’ve actually secured the long-term deal,” he said dryly. “Right now, this is the easy part.”
I frowned. “Easy? You realize how much work it took to get her to agree to this in the first place?”
“I do.” There was a pause, then Cole sighed. “Look, I’m happy for you. I am. But don’t let your excitement make you sloppy. You and I both know things don’t always go as planned.”
I didn’t miss the warning in his tone.
And unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.
This wasn’t my first business deal, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be my last. I knew that success wasn’t guaranteed.
I knew that despite how much I wanted this to work, there were still a hundred different ways it could go sideways.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give it everything I had.
Cole chuckled, sensing my silence. “And don’t pretend this is just about business. You’re in deep, little brother.”
I scowled. “Screw you.”
He laughed, then hung up, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The celebration was short-lived.
The next morning, I was reviewing financial projections when my assistant, Eric, knocked and stepped into my office.
“There’s something you should know,” he said, setting his tablet down on my desk.
I glanced up. “What is it?”
He hesitated for a beat before speaking. “I’ve started hearing a few... whispers. About Scarlett.”
That got my attention.
I sat up straighter. “What kind of whispers?”
Eric shifted, clearly uncomfortable.
“People are questioning whether she’s ready for this kind of expansion. Some are saying she’s too inexperienced to take Amélie international.” He paused.
I impatiently gestured for Eric to continue.
“And there’s some speculation about whether she really deserves this opportunity—or if she’s only getting it because of you,” Eric said.
My jaw clenched.
I’d been in business long enough to know how quickly rumors could spread, how easily they could poison a reputation.
And in an industry as ruthless as ours, even a hint of doubt could be damaging.
Scarlett had worked her ass off to build Amélie into one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. She earned this opportunity.
And I’d be damned if I let someone try to take that away from her.
“Do we know where this is coming from?” I asked, keeping my voice calm.
Eric shook his head. “Not yet. But I can keep an ear out.”
I nodded. “Do that. And if you hear anything else, I want to know immediately.”
He hesitated again. “Do you want me to put out a statement?”
I exhaled sharply, considering it.
If we addressed it publicly, it could draw even more attention to the rumors, giving them more weight than they deserved.
But if we ignored them entirely, it might look like we had something to hide.
For now, I wanted more information.
“No statement,” I decided. “Not yet. Just keep your eyes and ears open.”
Eric nodded. “Understood.”
As he left, I leaned back in my chair, running a hand over my jaw.
Who the hell was trying to undermine Scarlett?
And more importantly?—
How far were they willing to go?
One thing was clear:
This deal might have been signed, and I wasn’t about to let anyone tear Scarlett down.
I sat in the back of my car, my fingers drumming against my thigh as the city lights blurred past the tinted windows.
The bottle of vintage Champagne I’d brought rested in the seat beside me, and I had to stop myself from checking my watch again.
Scarlett had agreed to our partnership, and tonight, I wanted to celebrate. Properly.
I’d arranged another private dinner—not just because I wanted her all to myself.
Okay, maybe that was part of it.
But more than that, I wanted this to mean something. I wasn’t interested in just another business dinner.
I wanted her undivided attention. I wanted her to see that this—we—were worth exploring.
Which was why I’d called in a favor.
One of Scarlett’s favorite chefs, a notoriously hard-to-book talent, had agreed to cook for us tonight.
A personal meal, something crafted just for her.
I had momentarily debated whether inviting her out again this quickly was too soon.
But the Valens didn’t second-guess themselves.
Scarlett, however, was proving to be the one exception to my usual confidence.
When my car finally pulled up in front of Amélie, she was already outside waiting.
And dang it—she was stunning.
She wasn’t dressed up in a designer gown or dripping in diamonds. Scarlett didn’t need any of that.
She was in a sleek black dress that hugged her curves just right, her hair pinned up, exposing the delicate slope of her neck.
She slipped into the passenger seat, the scent of vanilla and something distinctly her wrapping around me.
“You’re punctual,” she noted, fastening her seatbelt.
“I’m motivated.”
She arched a brow. “Motivated?”
I smirked. “To make sure you actually enjoy this dinner.”
She shook her head but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips.
Yeah. Motivated was an understatement.
The location was intimate—candlelit, private, and far from the noise of the city. Just the two of us.
When Scarlett realized who would be cooking for us tonight, her eyes widened in disbelief. “No way.”
I grinned, enjoying her rare moment of speechlessness. “You like the surprise?”
She turned to me, something warm flickering in her gaze. “You… actually paid attention.”
“I always pay attention.”
That caught her off guard. She looked away, but not before I saw the color rise to her cheeks.
The food was exceptional. Course after course, expertly prepared, paired with the finest wine. But honestly, I barely tasted any of it.
Because every time Scarlett spoke, I found myself completely entranced.
She told me about her first time stepping into a real professional kitchen.
The way it had felt like stepping onto a battlefield and falling in love all at once.
I told her about my father, about the weight of the family empire.
About how I’d learned early on that wanting something and earning it were two very different things.
She listened. Not just politely—but truly listened.
And when she spoke, I found myself wanting to know more.
By the time dessert was served, something had shifted between us.
Something dangerous.
Something inevitable.
Her glass was nearly empty, her fingers tracing idle patterns against the rim. “You know this is complicated, right?”
I leaned in, resting my forearm on the table. “And?”
She exhaled a quiet laugh. “You don’t do complicated, Christian.”
I studied her. “Maybe I do now.”
Scarlett stilled, her eyes searching mine.
Then, before either of us could think better of it, I reached for her hand.
She let me.
Just like she let me tilt her chin up as I leaned in.
This time, there was no hesitation.
Our second kiss wasn’t tentative—it was claiming.
The taste of wine and something sweeter lingered on her lips, and I deepened the kiss.
I pulled her closer, feeling her sink into me just as much as I was sinking into her.
When we finally broke apart, she was breathing hard, her fingers gripping the edge of the table.
I traced my thumb across her lower lip, my voice rough. “I don’t do complicated, Scarlett, but for you? I’ll make an exception.”
The drive back to her apartment was quiet—but charged.
Scarlett was clearly battling something internally, her fingers tapping against her thigh, her gaze flickering toward me every few minutes.
She wanted me to come inside.
I could see it. Feel it.
But she was holding back.
I parked in front of her building, and instead of letting her walk up alone, I stepped out, escorting her to her door.
She turned to face me, and for the first time since I’d met her, Scarlett Lane looked…uncertain.
“I enjoyed myself,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of something unspoken.
I tilted my head, studying her, letting the moment stretch between us. “I’m happy to hear that.”
And I was. More than I probably should be.
She hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t sure if I should say yes to another date. A date date, I mean.”
I leaned in slightly, smirking. “But you did. You just can’t get enough of me.”
Her lips curved, amusement flashing in her eyes. She let out a small, almost reluctant laugh. “Yeah… I guess I can’t.”
Something about the way she said it—like she was only just realizing it herself—sent a thrill through me.
That answer shouldn’t have made me feel as victorious as it did, but this woman was turning me inside out.
I took a step closer, one hand bracing against the wall behind her.
“I’m not done kissing you yet,” I murmured.
Scarlett exhaled shakily, but she didn’t move away.
She never moved away.
This time, I let her come to me .
And she did.
Her lips met mine in a slow, deliberate kiss, her fingers tangling in my jacket.
I deepened it, letting her taste exactly what she did to me—how badly I wanted her.
By the time we pulled apart, she was flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Her door was right there.
She could invite me in.
And dang it, I wanted her to.
But then I remembered my conversation with Cole.
Patience.
Let her come to you.
Scarlett hesitated for a fraction of a second—then stepped back.
My jaw tensed, but I covered it with a smirk.
“Goodnight, Scarlett,” I murmured, pressing one last lingering kiss to her lips.
Then I turned and walked away, leaving her standing at her door.
I’d won the business deal.
But this?
This was the real game.
And I had all the time in the world to play it.