Game of Desires

CHAPTER 4: THE MEETING

Andrew’s driver took us to the airport where his private jet waited. The quiet ride was filled with his soft concern.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

I nodded, steady. Going back to Paris after ten years was no longer a burden. I had healed. I was stronger. I was ready.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing a tight smile. He nodded, giving me one of those intense looks he always gave. Then he turned toward the window, watching the clouds drift by.

“Remember, I’m here if you need anything,” he said softly, his voice full of comfort.

I nodded. He had always been there for me, quietly steady.

When we landed in Paris, I paused outside to breathe in the crisp air. The meeting with my staff went smoothly. The brand was growing fast, profits rising, and I shared some new designs and upcoming projects.

Afterwards, I headed to Andrew’s office to discuss the investment he wanted me to manage. He had an appointment and told me the details before leaving.

As I walked in, the staff greeted me respectfully. Many probably thought I was Andrew’s wife since we spent so much time together. I was tempted to let him in fully, but I still guarded my broken heart.

Andrew explained, “Tyler has taken the bait. With his company on the verge of going bankrupt, he has reached out to my investment company for a meeting. You will be receiving his pitch as planned."

The glass boardroom door opened, and there he was—Tyler Black—adjusting his tie like it could hide the sweat on his neck.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” he said, forcing a polite smile.

His gaze shifted to the head of the table and froze. “Penelope.”

I leaned back in my chair, savoring the shock on his face. “Mr. Black. Please, have a seat.”

He walked over stiffly, like the chair itself might bite him. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“That makes two of us,” I said smoothly. “Let’s discuss your proposal.”

Tyler cleared his throat. “My company has had… temporary setbacks. The market hit us hard. I believe with the right backing; we can bounce back.”

I flipped through his file, each damning page making my smile a little wider. “Your debts are worse than you stated. And your last two investments lost millions.”

His jaw tightened, but he kept that fake grin plastered on. “That’s why I’m here. We can still fix this.”

I looked up, enjoying how uncomfortable he looked. “I’ll consider it. But my firm doesn’t commit to vague promises.”

When the meeting ended, I walked out first, letting him follow me into the hallway.

“Penelope, wait,” he said, his voice lower now. “We should talk—privately.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I didn’t even slow my pace.

“Come on,” he tried again. “We had good times once. Why keep this wall between us?”

I stopped and turned, letting him see just how much I enjoyed being in control. “Because I’m not the woman you remember. And I don’t forget.”

Later, I heard Bianca storm into his office from a contact inside. “Why didn’t you tell me Penelope was handling this?” she demanded.

“She’s just a representative,” Tyler muttered, probably wishing it were true.

“She’s your ex-wife. This is sabotage waiting to happen,” Bianca hissed.

I smirked when the update reached me. She was right—it was sabotage.

Sitting in my own office, I opened a new file. The deeper I dug, the worse it got. I called him.

“I’ve found more debts,” I said. “And fraud. If I walk away, you’ll lose everything.”

“Are you threatening me?” His voice was tight.

“I’m stating facts,” I said coldly. “I’ll decide if this deal is worth my time. Until then, remember—I can walk away anytime.”

Tyler left the board room first and I followed afterward. That was when he stumbled upon his second shocker.

"You?" This was his former best friend whom he had screwed over.

Andrew looked past him and approached me. "Everything went well, I take ir?"

I had a devious thought. I pressed my head on Andrew's chest and held his arm.

"Tyler, this is the CEO of Inv Co. And my fiancé."

"Fiancé!?" The stiff look on his face gave me the utmost pleasure. Andrew also had a confused look. It was expected since this was not part of the plan.

Still, Andrew didn’t say a word—he just slipped his arm around her waist and gave a small smile that confirmed everything. Tyler’s jaw tightened. Bianca’s face froze.

We left the building, arms hooked as Tyler watched with grinding teeth.

Once we got home, Andrew shut the door harder than necessary. His eyes locked on me, sharp and unreadable.

“Why did you say that?” His voice was low, the kind that carried more weight than shouting. “We’re not together.”

I stopped halfway into the living room, slowly turning to face him. His jaw was tight, shoulders squared, as if bracing for a fight. He looked like a man trying to stay in control—too bad I had no intention of letting him.

I stepped toward him. Once. Twice. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

I didn’t answer. My gaze dropped to his mouth, lingering there like I was already imagining the taste.

A flicker crossed his face—confusion, curiosity, maybe that darker thing I’d seen before. His lips parted as if to speak, but I didn’t give him the chance. I leaned in and kissed him, slow and deliberate, my lips barely brushing his.

His breath hitched. “What are you doing?” he murmured against my mouth.

“Shut up,” I whispered, letting my words melt into him.

Something in him snapped. His hand clamped around my waist, dragging me flush against him. The kiss deepened instantly, his lips moving with a controlled hunger that made my stomach tighten. Each pass of his mouth was deliberate, like he was testing how far I’d let him go.

I slid my fingers up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair. He made a low, rough sound—half growl, half moan—that vibrated against my lips. His other hand slid down my spine, palm warm and sure, until it rested on the small of my back. He pressed me closer, and I could feel every hard line of his body.

“Andrew…” My voice broke on his name.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his breath hot against my mouth.

“Andrew.”

His lips crashed into mine again, this time with no restraint. His tongue swept against mine, slow but deep, and my knees almost buckled. We moved toward the hallway without breaking the kiss, his thumb rubbing slow circles into my hip that had me aching for more.

When we reached my bedroom, he stopped, his chest rising and falling faster now. His eyes searched mine, dark and heavy, like he was deciding whether to stop or ruin me completely.

“You drive me insane,” he muttered, brushing his knuckles over my cheek.

“Then stop thinking,” I said, breathless.

That was all it took. His mouth was on mine again, slower this time but somehow hotter. One hand slid over my side, his fingers tracing my shape through my dress before finding the bare skin above my knee. I gasped, and his grip tightened like he was claiming every inch of me.

I pushed his shirt up, my hands splaying over his hard stomach and chest, my nails grazing him lightly. His breath caught, and then his shirt was gone, tossed aside without a glance.

His hands returned to me, roaming over my shoulders, down my arms, until they reached my dress straps. He hooked his fingers beneath them, pushing them down slowly, letting the fabric slide over my skin like he was unwrapping something fragile. His lips found my shoulder, pressing soft, hot kisses lower and lower.

When the dress pooled at my feet, he stepped back just enough to look at me. The weight of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. His fingertips traced my collarbone, and then his mouth followed, each kiss slow, deep, and lingering until my breath came in shallow bursts.

I arched into him, my hands threading into his hair, holding him there. He wrapped an arm around me, pressing me flush against his bare chest. The heat of his skin, the solid feel of him—it made the air between us crackle.

When his lips returned to mine, the kiss was softer but thicker with heat, like we were savoring the moment right before we lost all control.