The Billionaire Asset

5: Ava

The corporate world is a glass house, and at Reed Industries, every wall had ears. By Tuesday, I could feel the shift. It wasn't overt—no one pointed or whispered when I walked by—but the air in the hallways felt different. It was the way the secretaries went silent when I entered the breakroom, and the way the junior associates looked at me with a mix of awe and predatory curiosity.

They knew something had shifted. They could feel the gravity of Lucas Reed pulling me into his orbit, even if they hadn't seen the fire behind closed doors yet.

"The gala details are finalized," Sarah, the head of PR, said as she stepped into my temporary office. She was a sharp woman with eyes that missed nothing. She dropped a heavy, cream-colored invitation onto my desk. "Lucas expects the entire executive team there. Including you, Ava."

"I'm a consultant, Sarah. Not an executive," I reminded her, keeping my voice neutral.

"Lucas was very specific," she replied, her gaze lingering on me a second too long. "He said your presence was 'non-negotiable.' People are talking, you know. He doesn't usually keep consultants in his inner sanctum past 7:00 PM. Much less midnight."

I felt a prickle of heat crawl up my neck. "We have a lot of data to get through."

"Of course," she said, her smile not reaching her eyes. "Data. Is that what we’re calling it now?"

She left before I could snap back. I looked at the invitation. It felt like a trap. Or an invitation to a s*******r.

Later that afternoon, I had to present my preliminary findings to the board. The room was packed with the most powerful people in the city, all of them older, cynical, and looking for a reason to dismiss me. I stood at the head of the long mahogany table, the laser pointer steady in my hand, though my stomach was in knots.

Lucas sat at the opposite end. He wasn't looking at the slides. He was looking at me. His chin was resting on his hand, his eyes tracking every movement of my lips, every gesture of my hands. He was silent, but his presence was a roar that drowned out everyone else in the room.

"The projected synergy figures are overly optimistic," I explained, gesturing to a bar graph. "If we don't account for the volatility in the European market, this merger will be underwater by Q3."

"That’s a bold claim, Ms. Bennett," one of the older board members, a man named Henderson, scoffed. He leaned back, his eyes dismissive. "Mr. Reed has never steered us wrong. Perhaps you’re just seeing ghosts in the machine."

The room chuckled—a low, condescending sound that made my blood boil. I opened my mouth to defend my data, but before I could speak, the atmosphere in the room changed.

Lucas straightened up. The movement was small, but the laughter died instantly.

"The lady didn't ask for your opinion on her eyesight, Henderson," Lucas said. His voice was quiet, but it had an edge that could have sliced through the table. "She asked you to look at the numbers. If she says there are ghosts, then we hunt ghosts."

The silence that followed was deafening. I looked at Lucas, stunned. He had never defended a consultant like that. It was a public declaration of trust—or something more dangerous.

As the meeting broke up, the room became a hive of activity. People were shoving chairs back, talking in low tones, and casting sideways glances at me. I began to pack up my laptop, my hands moving a little too fast. The weight of the room's collective gaze was starting to feel like lead.

I felt a presence behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know it was him. The air seemed to vibrate with his proximity.

"You held your own," Lucas murmured, standing so close I could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck.

"I didn't need you to fight my battles," I whispered, though my heart was racing at his nearness.

"I wasn't fighting a battle. I was stating a fact."

Suddenly, a group of investors pushed past us, trying to get to the door. The crowd was dense, and I felt myself being jostled. I stumbled slightly, my shoulder brushing against a passing VP.

Before I could find my footing, a large, warm hand settled firmly against the small of my back.

The contact was electric. Lucas didn't just steady me; he pulled me slightly closer to him, his palm flat against the silk of my blouse, fingers splayed across my spine. The heat of his hand seared through the thin fabric, sinking directly into my skin. It was a possessive, protective gesture that felt incredibly intimate in the middle of a crowded boardroom.

I froze, my breath hitching in my throat. I looked around, terrified that someone would see, but everyone was busy talking. Yet, I could see Sarah from PR watching us from the corner of the room, her eyes widening.

Lucas didn't pull his hand away. He kept it there, his thumb tracing a small, slow circle against the base of my spine. The friction sent waves of heat through my body, settling deep in my pelvis. It was a secret warmth, a private claim made in a public space.

"Stay close to me," he whispered, his mouth inches from my ear. "The sharks in this room have long teeth."

"And what about you?" I asked, my voice trembling as I looked up at him. "Are you a shark too?"

His eyes darkened, the blue turning to a deep, midnight black. He leaned in just a fraction more, his hand tightening slightly on my back, pulling me into the hard planes of his body for a fleeting second.

"I'm the one who owns the ocean, Ava," he said.

He let go then, his hand leaving a lingering trail of fire on my skin. He walked away to speak to an investor, leaving me standing there, breathless and hyper-aware of the stares following him.

The rumors were going to explode by morning. I could see it in the way people were whispering behind their hands. But as I watched Lucas move through the room with the grace of a king, all I could think about was the weight of his hand on my back and how much I wanted him to put it there again.