Chapter 7

“That will be all for today. Don’t forget the changes I made. I want a revised version on my desk by tomorrow morning,” Mr. Railway announced, his voice crisp and commanding. Everyone around the table nodded in unison, gathering their belongings as they rose from their seats. I watched him, the way his fingers danced over his phone as he typed—elegant, swift, almost mesmerizing. Everything about him was attractive, a dangerous distraction I couldn’t afford.

Swallowing my errant thoughts, I stood up, smoothed my skirt, and walked out of the conference room. If he was determined to act like that night had never happened, then I had no problem doing the same.

Back in my office, I let out a sigh of relief. For a few minutes, I could breathe before diving back into the chaos of the day. I opened my iPad, pulling up the contract we were about to close with King’s Publishing Company. They were eager to collaborate with our new software, but in exchange, they offered only thirty percent of the profit.

I raised an eyebrow. Thirty percent? That’s too little. Even forty percent would be more reasonable, I thought, shaking my head. Scoffing, I made my way to Mr. Railway’s office, knocking twice.

“Come in,” came his deep voice, calm yet assertive. I entered to find him leaning back in his chair, eyes still glued to his phone.

“Sir, I reviewed the contract proposal from King’s Publishing,” I began, standing a few feet from his desk. His sharp eyes finally lifted to meet mine, a thick brow arched as if daring me to waste his time.

“Isn’t thirty percent too little?” I questioned cautiously.

A frown tugged at his lips as he reached for a file on his desk. His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking visibly. “That sly bastard,” he muttered under his breath. “He gave me two different contracts.” Slamming the file shut, he looked up at me, his gaze piercing. “Draft a new contract. Our share will be sixty percent.”

“Sixty?” I blurted out, eyes widening. “Isn’t that a bit too much?”

His stare was ice-cold, like a predator sizing up its prey. “They either agree to it or they walk away. We’re doing them a favor by allowing this collaboration. With or without them, our software launch will be a success.” His tone was filled with unshakable confidence, making it clear there was no room for negotiation.

“Yes, sir,” I replied quickly, suppressing the urge to question him further. “Any additional changes?”

“No. Now go,” he dismissed me with a wave of his hand. I turned on my heel, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding as I exited his office. Working with him was going to be harder than I thought.

An hour later, we arrived at Garden Suites, the upscale venue for our meeting with King’s Publishing. The lobby buzzed with quiet elegance, the scent of fresh lilies lingering in the air. I sat beside Mr. Railway, trying to steady my nerves. His presence was intimidating, an unspoken command to follow his lead.

“Don’t say anything throughout. Just observe,” he instructed, his voice low but firm. “When it’s time to leave, we leave.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the knot forming in my stomach. “Yes, sir.”

As if on cue, a tall man with a well-tailored suit and a confident stride approached us, followed closely by a younger man in glasses. The latter looked like he was perpetually displeased, his nose slightly wrinkled as if he’d just smelled something unpleasant.

“Mr. Railway, good afternoon,” the older man greeted with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Mr. King,” Mr. Railway responded curtly, a subtle reminder that the man was ten minutes late. There was a coldness in his tone, a silent reprimand that made Mr. King’s smile falter just a bit.

They exchanged a few pleasantries, but the tension in the air was palpable. Mr. King’s assistant took the seat across from me, his eyes narrowing in what seemed like a challenge. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead focused on the papers in my hand. I will not be intimidated by a glorified errand boy.

“So, Mr. Railway, I see you have a new assistant,” Mr. King remarked, his gaze sliding over me like I was some new exhibit on display. There was a mocking undertone in his voice that set my teeth on edge.

“Things change,” Mr. Railway replied coolly, his expression unflinching. The message was clear: drop the small talk.

Mr. King cleared his throat awkwardly, turning back to the matter at hand. “Have you had a chance to review the contract?”

“Yes, I have,” Mr. Railway said, extending his hand toward me. I quickly handed him the updated file. “I’ve made some adjustments. Take a look.”

Mr. King took the file, his expression shifting from curiosity to disbelief as he skimmed through the changes. The color drained from his face when he reached the revised profit share.

“Sixty percent?” Mr. King sputtered, his voice rising in shock. “That’s practically all the profits! This isn’t a partnership; it’s extortion.”

Mr. Railway leaned back in his chair, a calm smile playing on his lips. “I’m sure that’s exactly what you had in mind when you offered us thirty percent, thinking we’d be grateful for crumbs.” His tone was deceptively polite, but there was a lethal edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine.

A tense silence fell over the table, thick and suffocating. Mr. King’s assistant looked like he was about to explode, but a subtle glance from Mr. King held him in check.

“We’ll need time to review these changes,” Mr. King said, trying to regain his composure.

“Take all the time you need,” Mr. Railway replied with a dismissive wave. “But understand this—our terms are non-negotiable.”

With that, he stood up, signaling that the meeting was over. I quickly gathered my things and followed him out of the room.

As we walked back to the car, I couldn’t help but glance at him. The man was infuriatingly confident, yet there was something undeniably compelling about his ruthlessness.

“Good job today,” he said suddenly, catching me off guard.

“Thank you, sir,” I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips. Maybe working with him wouldn’t be so bad after all.