Chapter 3: My Ex-Husband is my Business Partner?

GWEN's POV

The towering skyscraper of Jim Summerbell stood before me, its glass exterior reflecting the golden morning sun. I tilted my head up, taking it all in. 

This was my father's legacy.

A proud smile spread across my lips. I could almost picture him standing beside me, arms crossed, his usual confident smirk in place as he admired what he built from the ground up. 

But he wasn't here anymore. And neither was my mother. 

The thought made my heart clench, but I pushed it aside. This was a new beginning for me and Kira. I wasn't going to waste it. 

Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the glass doors.

"Good morning, Miss Summerbell." 

I turned to see Jenny walking toward me with her tablet in hand. 

"Good morning, Jenny," I greeted. "What's on the agenda?" 

"You have a meeting with Paulo and his team about the new collection, Miss Gwen," she uttered, swiping through her notes. "Everything is already set up in the conference room." 

I nodded, adjusting my blazer. "Alright, let's go." 

As soon as we entered the conference room, the design team was ready. Paulo, my head designer, grinned as he spread out sketches and fabric samples across the sleek, glass-top table. 

"Alright, gorgeous," Paulo started, pushing his glasses up. "Here's what we've got." 

The meeting was productive.

We brainstormed new ideas for the next collection, debating color palettes, textures, and seasonal themes. Paulo's team had brilliant suggestions, and we bounced ideas off one another seamlessly.

It felt good to be involved, to feel like I belonged in the company my father had built. 

After the meeting ended, I returned to my office, where Jenny was already waiting with a steaming cup of coffee. I took it gratefully, settling into my chair. 

"So, what's my next schedule, Jenny?" I asked, taking a sip. 

"You have a meeting with the owner of Azamant, a retail company. Mr. Gregory Anderson is willing to invest in your company, Miss Gwen," Jenny muttered.

I raised my brows. “Where’s the location?”

“Pierrot Gourmet at Superior Street, Miss,” she replied.

“Let’s get that deal.” I smirked and grabbed the coffee Jenny prepared for me.

We arrived at the restaurant around 11:35 in the morning. I was a little early so I waited for a few minutes but the investor hadn’t arrived yet.

“Jenny, where is he?” I asked.

Jenny swiped at her tablet, frowning. “He was supposed to be here already, but..." 

Her brows furrowed, and I watched as she read a new message. A bad feeling settled in my stomach. 

"What is it?" I asked. 

Jenny sighed. "They canceled last minute." 

I clenched my jaw but quickly exhaled my frustration. It was a waste of time, but I wouldn't let it ruin my mood. 

"That's bad," I said with a deep sigh. "We'll just head back to the company, then." I grabbed my bag and stood up. 

But just as I was about to leave, Jenny's phone dinged again. 

She read the message and her eyes widened. "Wait, there's... another opportunity, Miss." 

I arched a brow. "What is it?" 

Jenny looked up. "Grayford Creations just reached out. They want a collaboration with Jim Summerbell, Miss Gwen." 

I blinked, then turned fully to her. "The Grayford Creations fashion house?" 

She nodded. "Yes. And here's the catch, it was Mr. Lucas Grayford who reached out and emailed our company." 

My heart skipped a beat. 

Lucas. 

After everything, he wanted to work with my company?

I scoffed, shaking my head. The irony.

Was this another game of his?

A way to exert his power over me? Or was he only interested because Jim Summerbell was rising? 

Jenny cleared her throat. "It's a huge opportunity, Miss Gwen. If this partnership works out, it'll put Jim Summerbell at the top." 

I tapped my nails against the table, my mind whirling. 

This was my company now. My chance to prove myself. And if Lucas thought he could waltz into my life thinking I was the same woman he had discarded like trash, he was dead wrong. 

A slow smirk spread across my lips. 

"Send him the location," I said, standing up straight. "We'll wait for Mr. Grayford and see if his visions correlate to mine."

I sat at the restaurant table, my fingers tapping rhythmically against the shiny surface. I hated that I felt this restless, or worse, nervous.

But how could I not be?

This was only the second time I was meeting Lucas Grayford since our divorce, and the last thing I wanted was for him to see even a hint of unease.

Then, there he was, Lucas Grayford, cool as ever, sauntering through the entrance like he owned the place. Without a word, he slid into the seat across from me, flashing a faint smirk like this was some kind of game.

“Let’s not waste time, Mr. Grayford,” I said firmly. “Why do you want to collaborate with me?”

Lucas chuckled under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Straight to the point. Some things never change.”

“Go ahead,” I warned.

“Alright, alright.” He leaned forward, eyes locking onto mine. “Jim Summerbell is a powerful brand. But with my company backing you up, you would have access to greater distribution networks and stronger marketing strategies. We both know that partnership would be lucrative.”

I scoffed lightly. “Lucrative for you, you mean.”

“For both of us,” he corrected with that signature arrogance. “Face it, Miss Summerbell, with my resources, your company’s success would be inevitable.”

I hated to admit it, but he was right. This partnership could take Jim Summerbell to new heights, and I’d be a fool not to at least consider it.

Still, I wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

“Alright,” I said, keeping my voice even. “But what about shares? Financial terms? I’m not about to jump into something without knowing exactly what you’re getting out of this.”

Lucas shrugged. “I’m proposing a 30% stake in Jim Summerbell’s next collection. I’ll handle half the marketing costs, and you’ll keep full creative control. In return, I’ll take a percentage of the sales for the first six months. After that, we renegotiate.”

I arched a brow. “Thirty percent is steep.”

“I’ll make it worth it,” he said smoothly. “My company will handle international outreach. Europe, North America… markets you haven’t tapped yet.”

“And if sales don’t meet your expectations?”

“Then I take the loss,” Lucas said easily. “No risk on your end.”

I paused, pretending to consider, though I already knew I’d take the deal, as long as my legal team confirmed everything was airtight.

Lucas could be crafty, and I wouldn’t put it past him to slip in a clause that benefited him more than he claimed.

“Fine,” I said finally. “I’ll have my legal team review the contract. If everything checks out, you’ll hear from me.”

“Fair enough, Miss Summerbell.” Lucas leaned back in his chair, smirking like he’d already won.

I stood, gathering my things. “Don’t get too confident,” I warned. “I don’t trust you.”

“You never did.” He gave a small chuckle, as if that amused him.

I walked out of the restaurant with Jenny beside me, mentally sorting through everything we’d discussed. I’d barely made it ten steps before I heard his voice again.

“Hey, Miss Summerbell.”

I turned to see Lucas striding toward me. Before I could react, he leaned in, too close, his lips hovering near my ear.

“By the way,” he murmured, his voice low and smug, “I was the one who made Mr. Anderson cancel your meeting earlier.” He leaned back just enough to see the surprise flicker across my face.

“You—”

“Consider it a warning,” he said, smirking again before turning and walking away.

I clenched my fists, inhaling slowly to steady myself. Typical Lucas, always playing games. But if he thought I would let him outsmart me, he was sorely mistaken.

“If you’re playing games,” I muttered under my breath. “You’d better be ready to lose.”