A deal with the tyrant

Chapter4:TheDinner

"You'll need to change."

Netim looked up from the stack of files she'd been reviewing. It was 4:47 PM—she'd been working for nearly eight hours straight, learning the intricate web of Maximos's empire. Shipping contracts. Real estate acquisitions. Investment portfolios that made her father's former wealth look like pocket change.

Maximos stood in the doorway of his office, already dressed in a different suit—charcoal gray, perfectly tailored, probably worth more than her first car.

"Change?" she repeated.

"Business dinner. The Carlisle Hotel. Seven PM." He checked his watch. "You have two hours."

"I didn't bring—"

"There's a boutique on the third floor. Tell them to bill my account. Something elegant but not ostentatious. We're meeting with the Harrington Group—old money, conservative tastes. They'll judge you within the first thirty seconds."

Her stomach tightened. "You want me to attend a business dinner? On my first day?"

"I want to see how you perform under pressure." He tilted his head slightly. "Unless you'd prefer to stay here and file paperwork?"

It was a test. Everything with him was a test.

"I'll be ready."

"Good." He turned back into his office, then paused. "And Miss Danjuma? Tonight you're not my assistant. You're my associate. Act accordingly."

---

The dress she chose was midnight blue, knee-length, with clean lines and no embellishment. Professional. Elegant. Forgettable enough that people would focus on her words instead of her appearance.

When she returned to the office at 6:30, Maximos gave her a single appraising look.

"Better than I expected."

"Should I be flattered or insulted?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "Neither. Just observant."

The drive to the Carlisle was silent. Maximos spent it reviewing notes on his tablet, his jaw tight with concentration. Netim watched the city slide past the tinted windows and tried to ignore the knot in her stomach.

This was her old world. The world of expensive restaurants and careful conversations, where every word was a negotiation and every smile had a price.

She'd grown up in this world. But she'd never had to survive in it.

"The Harringtons," Maximos said suddenly, not looking up from his screen. "Robert Harrington is the CEO. His daughter Victoria handles acquisitions. They're considering selling their shipping division, but they're... hesitant about my reputation."

"Your reputation for destroying family businesses?"

He glanced at her. "My reputation for winning."

The car pulled up to the hotel entrance. A valet opened the door.

Maximos stepped out first, buttoning his jacket with practiced ease. Then he extended his hand to her.

She hesitated for just a second before taking it.

His grip was firm, steady. He guided her out of the car and released her hand the moment she was standing.

"Stay close," he murmured as they walked toward the entrance. "Listen more than you speak. And if anyone asks about your father—"

"I'll handle it."

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and something shifted in his expression. "Yes. I believe you will."

---

The restaurant was exactly what she'd expected—crystal chandeliers, white tablecloths, waiters who moved like ghosts. A pianist played something soft and unmemorable in the corner.

And there, at a table near the windows, sat Robert Harrington and his daughter Victoria.

But they weren't alone.

Netim's heart stopped.

At the table beside them, laughing over champagne and oysters, were Jared and Adanna.

Of course they were here. Of course. The universe wasn't content with just destroying her—it wanted to humiliate her too.

"Problem?" Maximos's voice was low, barely audible.

"No." She forced her spine straight. "No problem."

They reached the Harringtons' table. Robert stood—a silver-haired man in his sixties with the bearing of someone who'd never been told no. Victoria remained seated, assessing them with sharp, calculating eyes.

"Mr. Vasilis. Thank you for meeting us." Robert extended his hand.

"My pleasure." Maximos shook it, then gestured to Netim. "This is my associate, Miss Danjuma."

Victoria's eyes widened. Just slightly. Just enough.

She knew. Of course she knew.

"Miss Danjuma." Robert's handshake was careful, polite. "I believe I knew your father."

"Most people did," Netim said smoothly. "He had a gift for making impressions."

"Indeed." Robert's smile was tight.

They sat. Menus appeared. Maximos ordered wine without looking at the list.

"So," Victoria said, her eyes fixed on Netim. "I'm surprised to see you here. I heard about... well. The situation with your family's company."

The table went quiet.

Netim felt Maximos watching her. Testing her.

"Yes," she said calmly. "It was an unfortunate situation. But I've found that unfortunate situations often create the best opportunities." She smiled. "Which is why I'm working with Mr. Vasilis now."

Victoria blinked. She'd expected shame. Defensiveness. Not this.

"How... pragmatic of you."

"I prefer to think of it as survival instinct."

Maximos's knee brushed against hers under the table. Approval? Warning? She couldn't tell.

The conversation shifted to business—shipping routes, logistics, profit margins. Netim listened, absorbing everything. The Harringtons wanted to sell, but they were afraid of what Maximos would do with their family's legacy.

They were afraid of becoming another Danjuma Enterprise.

"Excuse me." Robert stood. "I need to make a phone call. Victoria?"

Victoria rose, and they both walked toward the lobby.

The moment they were gone, Maximos leaned back in his chair. "You did well."

"You sound surprised."

"I'm not." He reached for his wine glass, then paused. His hand hovered in the air for just a second too long. His eyes unfocused.

"Mr. Vasilis?"

He blinked, then grabbed the glass as if nothing had happened. "The Harringtons will sell. They just need reassurance."

But Netim had seen it. That moment of blankness. That small, terrifying pause.

"Are you—"

"I'm going to speak with Robert." He stood abruptly. "Stay here."

He walked away before she could respond.

Netim sat alone at the table, her mind racing.

And then she heard it.

Voices. Low and urgent. Coming from behind a decorative screen near the bar.

"—told you, the deal is done. Vasilis doesn't know what we're planning."

"He'll find out eventually. He always does."

"Not if we're careful."

Netim's breath caught. She recognized that voice.

Victoria Harrington.

"The offshore accounts are already set up," Victoria continued. "Once he transfers the payment for the shipping division, we'll redirect thirty percent through the subsidiary before it clears. By the time his accountants notice, the money will be untraceable."

A man's voice responded, unfamiliar. "And if he comes after you?"

"He won't. My father's signature is on every document. Legally, it's airtight. Vasilis will look like the incompetent one for losing track of his own money." Victoria's laugh was cold. "The great Maximos Vasilis, outsmarted by a family business. The irony is delicious."

"What about the girl? His new assistant—the Danjuma daughter. She was watching you earlier."

"Her?" Victoria scoffed. "She's nobody. Just another desperate heiress clinging to whatever scraps Vasilis throws her. She won't be a problem."

Netim's hands clenched under the table.

Footsteps. They were moving.

She turned away quickly, picking up her phone and pretending to scroll, her heart pounding.

Victoria and her companion walked past without a glance.

Maximos returned to the table moments later, Robert and Victoria following close behind.

"We have an agreement," Robert said, extending his hand again.

Maximos shook it. "I'll have my lawyers send the contracts tomorrow."

"Wonderful." Victoria's smile was perfect. Poisonous. "We look forward to working with you, Mr. Vasilis."

The dinner ended with handshakes and polite goodbyes. But all Netim could think about was what she'd heard.

Victoria was planning to steal from him. Thirty percent of a deal that was probably worth millions.

And no one knew except her.

---

In the car, Maximos was silent. His jaw was tight, his fingers drumming once against his knee—the only sign of whatever was going on behind those dark, unreadable eyes.

Netim watched the city lights blur past the window, her mind racing.

She should tell him. Warn him about Victoria's plan.

But why would she? This was exactly the kind of weakness she needed. If Victoria succeeded in making him look incompetent, if she could create cracks in his empire, maybe Netim could use that. Learn from it. Apply it to her own plans for revenge.

Let him bleed. Let him lose.

Isn't that what she wanted?

"You're quiet."

His voice startled her.

"Just tired," she said. "It's been a long day."

"You handled yourself well tonight." He turned to look at her, and in the dim light of the car, his face was all shadows and sharp angles. "Better than I expected."

"You keep saying that."

"Because you keep surprising me." His gaze held hers. "Most people in your position would have crumbled by now. But you..." He paused. "You're stronger than you look."

It wasn't a compliment. It was an observation. A recalibration.

He was seeing her differently now.

"My father used to say weakness is just strength that hasn't been tested yet," she said quietly.

Something flickered in his expression. "Your father said a lot of things. Most of them were lies."

The words should have hurt. But they didn't. Because they were true.

"Yes," she agreed. "They were."

The car pulled up to her apartment building. The driver opened her door.

Netim stepped out, then hesitated.

Tell him. Don't tell him. The war raged in her mind.

"Mr. Vasilis."

He looked up from his phone, waiting.

She should warn him. It was the right thing to do. The smart thing, even—prove her loyalty, earn his trust, get closer to him.

But the words stuck in her throat.

Because warning him meant protecting him. And protecting him meant betraying the promise she'd made to herself. To her father.

To take back everything Maximos Vasilis had stolen.

"Tomorrow," she said instead. "What time?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, like he knew she'd been about to say something else.

"Eight AM. We have a conference call with Singapore."

"I'll be ready."

She closed the car door and walked into the building, feeling his gaze on her back until she disappeared through the glass doors.

---

Her apartment was small but elegant—furnished in cool grays and whites, impersonal as a hotel room. There was a bottle of wine on the counter with a note in sharp, masculine handwriting:

*Welcome. Don't get too comfortable. —MV*

She poured herself a glass and stood by the window, looking out at the city.

Somewhere out there, her father was probably drinking himself unconscious. Jared and Adanna were probably celebrating their escape from her sinking ship. The Harringtons were probably finalizing their plan to rob Maximos blind.

And she was here. In an apartment paid for by the man she'd sworn to destroy, drinking wine he'd left for her, holding information that could save him or damn him.

What would her mother do?

The thought came from nowhere, sharp and painful.

Her mother, who'd supposedly abandoned her for money. Who'd chosen wealth over her own daughter.

If she were here now, what would she say?

Netim's phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

She opened the message.

**You did well tonight. But I know you heard something at that dinner. Whatever it was, remember this: trust is earned slowly and lost instantly. Choose your loyalties carefully, Miss Danjuma. Some betrayals can't be undone.**

Her blood ran cold.

How did he know?

She looked at the message again, her hands trembling.

Maximos had known she'd overheard something. Known she was debating whether to tell him.

He'd been testing her. Again.

And she'd failed. Or passed. She couldn't tell which.

She typed a response, deleted it, typed another.

Finally, she sent: **What makes you think I heard anything?**

The response came instantly.

**Because you looked at Victoria Harrington the same way you looked at me the night you slapped me. Like you wanted to destroy her.**

Netim stared at her phone.

Then another message appeared.

**Sleep well, Miss Danjuma. Tomorrow, we'll discuss what loyalty is worth.**

She set the phone down with shaking hands.

Maximos Vasilis knew everything.

"What does tomorrow holds for me?"