Chapter 16
Alistair's POV
We arrived at the hotel conference room where the meeting with the clients was set. Aurora was already at the head of the table, her laptop open, charts and numbers neatly prepared. She looked sharp and confident, as always.
The clients, however, didn't look pleased. They had been considering switching to another company, and I could feel the tension in the air as soon as I sat down beside Lumel.
Aurora began her pitch, laying out numbers, strategies, and future projections, but the clients kept exchanging skeptical looks. I was already thinking of how badly this might end when Lumel suddenly leaned forward.
"I understand your concern," he said, his tone calm yet commanding. Then, to my surprise, he switched languages—fluent and precise. The clients straightened, caught off guard. He not only spoke their language but addressed them with cultural nuances that I could barely follow.
Aurora paused, watching him. I sat there, half-stunned, as Lumel handled the negotiation with skill I hadn't expected from him. He countered their objections with logical arguments, weaving in Aurora's points while strengthening them with his own perspective.
By the time the meeting ended, the clients were smiling, shaking hands, and agreeing to continue their partnership with us.
I couldn't deny it anymore—Lumel had just saved the deal. And I wasn't the only one impressed. Even Aurora's expression softened, a flicker of respect in her eyes.
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Alistair's POV
When the meeting was finally over, evening shadows stretched across the hotel windows. The clients had just left, and I walked them out with polite smiles and firm handshakes. The relief in their voices told me we had secured them—for now.
I came back into the conference room only to stop at the doorway. Aurora was laughing at something Lumel had said. Her hand rested on his shoulder in an almost casual way, and he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was smiling back at her. Something twisted in my stomach at the sight, though I had no idea why.
Aurora noticed me first. "Alistair, come over here," she called brightly, stretching out her hand.
I forced a smile and walked closer. She slipped her arm around my shoulder. "Wasn't Lumel awesome today?"
"Yeah," I said absently, avoiding Lumel's gaze.
"I have some hidden talents," Lumel said with that infuriating smirk. Aurora laughed again.
Then her phone dinged. She glanced at the screen and sighed. "I've got to go."
"Here, take the car," Lumel said, tossing her his keys. She caught them with practiced ease.
"But how will you two—" she started.
"Don't worry," Lumel cut in smoothly, draping his arm casually around me, "me and Secretary Grant will figure something out."
Aurora's eyes flickered between us. "You sure?"
"Yeah, we're sure. Aren't we?" he pressed, tightening his grip.
"Okay… bye then." She gave a little wave and hurried out.
As soon as she was gone, I pulled at his arm.
He released me, and silence settled thick in the air. I cleared my throat and reached for my phone. "I'll just call Raman to come pick me up. I'll get going." My voice came out stiff.
But before I could dial, Lumel caught my hand. His grip was firm, steady. "We've been at it the whole day. I haven't eaten, and I'm pretty sure you haven't either."
"I'm fine—"
"Come on," he said, tugging me toward the hotel restaurant. His tone left no room for argument.
I tried to refuse, but he didn't listen. He ordered far too much food for just two people, the table filling with dish after dish. He kept placing food onto my plate, ignoring my protests.
I hated to admit it, but the smell was intoxicating, and I was starving. I finally gave in, eating bite after bite until I almost forgot Lumel was sitting there, watching me.
"You don't like it?" he asked suddenly.
"No, I do." I picked up another piece, chewing quickly.
"Good," he said, amusement flickering in his voice.
It was delicious—of course it was. A five-star hotel never failed to impress. Soon, I was eating freely, like I hadn't all day, until the satisfaction settled in my stomach.
When I finally leaned back, embarrassed by how much I'd eaten in front of him, Lumel tilted his head. "Do you want more?"
Heat crept up my neck. "No. Thank you."
We left the restaurant, and as we walked back through the quiet halls, I reached into my pocket only to realize something was missing. My pen—my lucky pen. I froze, checking again, then muttered under my breath.
"What is it?" Lumel asked.
"My pen. I must have left it in the meeting room."
We turned back. The conference room was dim and silent when we stepped in. I scanned the table and floor while pulling out my phone to call Raman. He picked up quickly.
"Where are you?" he asked.
Before I could answer, I felt a sudden push. My back hit the wall, my phone slipping from my hand and clattering onto the floor.
And then Lumel's lips were on mine—hard, urgent, tasting faintly of the wine he'd consumed at dinner. My breath hitched, and for a split second, I wanted to shove him away. But the warmth of his mouth, the force behind it—I found myself wanting more instead.
His lips moved down to my neck, tugging at the buttons of my shirt until a few slipped open. My head spun at the intensity, my hands scrambling against the wall for balance.
His hand moved lower, fingers tugging at my belt, and then he was kneeling in front of me, pulling my trousers down. A moan escaped me before I could stop it, my body trembling at his touch.
"Alistair? Are you still there?" Raman's voice echoed faintly from the phone on the floor.
But I couldn't answer. My voice betrayed me in a sound I couldn't hold back, and I realized with horror and desire alike—I didn't want to.
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Raman's POV
Raman laughed at something one of his friends said, but stop thinking about the call from Alistair,he stepped out to call Alistair again, he didn't pick, it felt unnatural. He frowned, staring at the phone. "Weird," he muttered, trying again—but still the same.
When he walked back in, his friends—Dev, Kian, and Freya—looked at him expectantly.
"What happened?" Kian asked, noticing his unsettled face.
"Nothing," Raman replied too quickly, forcing a small smile. But inside, his chest was tight, his instincts screaming that something wasn't right.
Dev leaned forward. "When is Alistair coming?"
"I just… I don't know. I called him, but his phone cut off on me. Felt strange." He ran a hand over his hair, trying to shake it off. "Forget it. Maybe he's busy."
But the unease didn't let go. His gut twisted, like he'd left something unfinished. Standing abruptly, he said, "I'll be right back."
"Raman—where are you going?" Freya asked, worried.
"Just… need some air." He grabbed his keys and walked out before they could press further.
The drive to Evans Industry felt longer than it should have, his thoughts circling in dread. By the time he reached the gates, the place was dark and shut for the night.
A flashlight beam hit his face. "Hey! Who's there?" a gruff voice barked.
Shielding his eyes, Raman said quickly, "I'm looking for my friend. He works here. His name's Alistair Grant."
The security guard, an older man with tired eyes, lowered the torch slightly and shook his head. "No one's here, son. Place is locked up tight."
"But—" Raman started, anxiety bleeding into his tone.
"I checked all the cameras," the guard interrupted firmly. "Nobody's come in or out tonight. Your friend isn't here."
Raman froze, his pulse hammering. The certainty in the man's voice didn't calm him—it only made his unease worse.
Wordless, he nodded, backed away, and returned to his car. Sitting behind the wheel, he tried calling again. This time Alistair's phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
No answer.
Raman dropped the phone on the passenger seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His mind raced. Something was wrong—terribly wrong.
But what? And where was Alistair?