Trusting the Billionaire

Chapter Two: The Pitch I

Audrey walked down the lobby, three days later, still surprised at how quickly her meeting with the Kings Capital CEO had been approved. She had never met him before now. She had only heard so much about him. His ruthlessness when it came to business. His stoic, indifferent persona, the one the media loved to describe. His sharp business acumen. His not so private life of a string of uncommitted relationships with beautiful public figures.

She looked around as she got closer to the secretary's office, taking in how impeccable the design and maintenance of the place was. Marble floors that caught the light. Art on the walls that probably cost more than her yearly salary. She wore her power suit, an ash toned patterned skirt suit with a camisole and a matching smart jacket, her hair styled up in a loose ponytail. She hoped she looked composed and collected, because inside she felt anything but.

She knocked and heard a deep male voice say, "Come in."

And in she went, into the lion's den.

He lifted his head from the paperwork on his desk, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Dark grey eyes pierced straight through her. She should have googled him. Wait, she had googled him. Just not his physical features, apparently, because nothing in those articles had prepared her for this.

"Please, sit down, Miss Bellamy."

She lowered herself into the chair across from him, smoothing her skirt as she went, grateful for the few seconds it gave her to collect herself. Up close he was even more unsettling. The kind of face that belonged on a magazine cover, all sharp lines and quiet authority, and none of the warmth to soften it.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Mr. King," she said, proud of how steady her voice came out.

"You requested an urgent meeting." He leaned back in his chair, studying her the way a buyer studies a property he hasn't decided is worth the asking price. "I assumed the matter was urgent."

"It is." She reached into her bag and pulled out the folder she had rehearsed presenting for two nights straight. "I'm here on behalf of Bellamy Trust."

Something flickered behind his eyes at the name, gone before she could read it. "I'm aware of who you are, Miss Bellamy. The bank's troubles have been fairly public."

Heat crept up her neck, but she refused to let it show. "Then you'll understand why I'm here. Bellamy Trust needs a capital partner.

"I've put together a five year plan. Projected returns, restructuring timelines, the loan portfolio cleanup already underway. Bellamy Trust isn't a sinking ship, Mr. King. It's a bank that inherited a mess and is already digging itself out. What it needs is capital to move faster than the Central Bank's deadline."

The corner of his mouth moved, not quite a smile, more the ghost of one. He finally picked up the folder and opened it, flipping through the pages with the unhurried pace of a man who had never once in his life felt rushed by anyone.

"Bad loans. A central bank compliance deadline you're not going to meet without an injection. A legacy institution with your family's name on the door." He glanced up. "Tell me, Miss Bellamy, what's in it for me."

She had expected the question. She still felt the sting of it.

"A modern generation bank with an untouched retail base in this state," she said. "A foothold in an industry your fund doesn't currently have significant exposure to. And a five year return that outperforms some of the portfolio you're currently sitting on, according to your own public filings."

"I'm proposing that Kings Capital become the partner to bridge our funding gap."

He said nothing for a moment, just watched her, and the silence stretched long enough that she wondered if she had misjudged the whole approach. Then, finally, "And why would I do that."

Not a question really. More a statement daring her to answer it well.

"Because it's a sound investment," she said, sliding the folder across the desk. "Loan loss provisioning is already down six percent quarter over quarter since I brought in a new risk team. Our non performing loan ratio was at sixty two percent when I took over. It's at thirty two now, and trending toward the Central Bank's six percent threshold faster than anyone predicted. What we need isn't a rescue. It's capital to close the last gap before the compliance deadline does it for us, on far worse terms."

He didn't reach for the folder right away. He kept his eyes on her instead, and she made herself hold his gaze even though everything in her wanted to look away.

"You came prepared," he said.

"I didn't come here to waste your time."

The corner of his mouth moved, not quite a smile, more the ghost of one. He flipped through the pages with the unhurried pace of a man who had never once in his life felt rushed by anyone.

"thirty two percent NPL is still very high" he said, without looking up. "And a loan book this size doesn't clean itself in a year without someone deciding which losses to hide and which to disclose. So tell me which one you did, Miss Bellamy."