Of Fire and Loss

Chapter 2: The Attack

Angèle

The interview is a duel. He asks precise, incisive questions, testing my knowledge, my resilience under pressure. I answer with calculated confidence, citing figures, trends, offering a risky analysis of one of his acquisitions. I see a flicker of interest, fleeting, ignite in his icy gaze.

— You have audacity, mademoiselle, he remarks, leaning forward, hands clasped on the desk. His eyes travel over my face, then down my neck, with deliberate slowness. A lot of audacity for someone so… young.

The implication is clear. My body is part of the test. A shiver of disgust and morbid excitement runs through me. I hold his gaze, refusing to look away.

— Audacity is a currency in your company, I presume? I retort, a slight smile on my lips.

Néron Valesco smiles in return. A slow, dangerous smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

— Indeed. And I pay very handsomely for that currency.

The office door bursts open, without a knock.

The intrusion is like a thunderclap. A young man stands on the threshold. He's inherited his father's magnetism, but in him, it's transformed into a wild, impulsive energy. Disheveled black hair, an impeccable suit but with the jacket open, tie loosened. His eyes, electric blue, sweep the room and lock onto me with an intensity that almost makes me flinch.

— Father. Sorry to disturb you, I had… His voice, raspier, younger, but just as charged with authority, cuts off abruptly. He looks me over, one eyebrow raised, an arrogant smile on his lips. … an urgent question. But I see you're busy.

Néron Valesco hasn't flinched. His face is a stone mask.

— Rabis, you know the rules. Knock before entering.

Rabis. The son.

Rabis ignores the remark. His eyes haven't left mine. He enters the room, approaching with the supple gait of a predator. He smells of leather, spicy wood, and arrogance.

— And who is your… new recruit? he asks, the word "recruit" drawing out with a deliberate insinuation.

— Mademoiselle Derval is a candidate for the junior strategic advisor position, Néron replies, his voice neutral.

Rabis stops next to my armchair, so close I can feel the heat radiating from him. He leans down, placing a hand on the back of my chair, trapping me without touching me.

— Delighted, Mademoiselle Derval, he says, his blue gaze plunging into mine with an audacity bordering on indecency. Rabis Valesco. I'm sure we'll have the opportunity to… work together. Very closely.

The challenge in his voice is palpable. A mark of territory. A warning. I feel a mixture of rage and something more primal, more dangerous, rise within me. I'm caught between two forces, two opposing but equally predatory temperaments.

I look up at him, refusing to be intimidated. My heart pounds against my ribs, a war drum.

— The future will tell, Mr. Valesco, I reply, my voice surprisingly steady.

Néron observes the scene, an indecipherable glint in his gray eyes. He sees the spark between us, the palpable tension. And he doesn't look displeased.

— I think the interview is over, Mademoiselle Derval, Néron announces, drawing me back to him. We'll be in touch.

I stand, feeling Rabis's gaze on me, an almost physical weight that follows me as I cross the room. At the door, I turn for one last courtesy.

My eyes meet Néron's. He stares at me with a consuming intensity, as if he already sees through my defenses, as if he's already contemplating my submission.

Then my gaze slides to Rabis, who, leaning against his father's desk, gives me a carnivorous smile, unequivocally promising a very different game.

I leave the office, my body vibrating, my mind on alert. The elevator descends, but I'm no longer the same. The cold anger has been tempered, forged into a more complex weapon. I've seen my enemies. One, a calculating glacier who wants to possess me. The other, an impulsive wildfire who wants to consume me.

I've lit the fuse. Now, I have to dance with the flames. And as I reach the open air, a single thought inhabits me, a thought that is both a fear and a terrible thrill:

In this war, which of us three will be the first to burn?