Forbidden Never Felt This Good

~ 25

0025

~Aria~

Business is business, even when the man sitting across the table might be a threat.

That was the mantra I carried into the conference room. Jean-Paul was already on my father's radar, already being watched, already being quietly unraveled by people whose entire skill set is finding things people would rather keep hidden.

All I had to do was sit across from him, smile the right amount, and give him absolutely nothing while making him feel like he was getting everything.

I had watched my father do it before. I knew how it worked. Or more like I was still learning but this surprisingly seems to be coming around nicely.

Luca had positioned himself near the door the way he always does, not sitting, never sitting in these kinds of meetings, just present in that way of his that takes up more space than his physical body should.

The moment Jean-Paul walked in, I watched it happen. I had taken note of his movements and body language.

He came through the door with the energy of a man who had rehearsed this, confident, unhurried, the kind of smile that has been practiced to charm me.

He was well-dressed, I would give him that. Polished in the way that suggested he cared very much about appearing like he didn't care.

His eyes found mine immediately and the smile shifted into something warmer, more personal than a first professional meeting called for.

He crossed the room toward me, hand extended.

And then his gaze moved, just briefly, to Luca.

He reached for my hand anyway, lowering his head to bring it to his lips, and before he made contact Luca's voice came from across the room. Calm. Unbothered. Absolute.

"This is a professional meeting, Monsieur Mercier."

Jean stopped. Straightened. Looked at Luca with an expression that was trying very hard to be unbothered and was not quite succeeding.

"Of course, I was just greeting the ever charming lady." he said smoothly, pivoting seamlessly into a handshake instead, though his jaw had tightened in a way he probably didn't realize.

“Good morning Miss Santoro.” He greeted warmly.

“Good morning Mr. Mercier. Shall we get down to business.” I responded coldly.

He sat down across from me and I watched him decide that Luca was an obstacle to be ignored rather than engaged, and watched him try to rebuild the warmth in his smile as he turned his full attention back to me.

What a performance, I thought. And what a fool.

But I smiled back politely and opened the folder in front of me.

The meeting itself was what it needed to be. Jean had a proposal on the table, a development project, luxury accommodation, the kind of investment that looked clean and profitable on the surface.

I had read everything twice before walking in here. I knew the numbers. I knew where the gaps were.

And I knew that somewhere underneath the glossy presentation and the carefully chosen words, there was something that still didn't sit right.

But not knowing exactly what that something was yet meant I needed him close. Needed him thinking he had won something today.

So when he finished his pitch and looked at me across the table with barely concealed anticipation, I nodded.

"I think we can move forward, I love what you have established here. I am willing to work with you on this project." I said.

Jean's face opened up with satisfaction. The kind a man gets when he thinks he has been smarter than the room. "Excellent. I think you'll find this partnership very rewarding, Miss. Santoro."

"I'm sure I will," I agreed pleasantly.

He won’t suspect a thing.

From the corner of my eye I could see Luca looking at me. Not at Jean. At me. I didn't return the look.

Jean began gathering his documents and then paused in that way people do when they're about to say something they've been building toward the whole time, something they saved for the end because they thought the mood would be right by then.

"Miss. Santoro," he said, his voice dropping into something more casual, "I would love the opportunity to continue our conversation somewhere a little less formal. Dinner, perhaps? I am sure you do enjoyed the last time we both had a little fun."

There it was.

A date with a man who might be plotting against my father's empire and me. I let the thought sit for exactly one second.

Interesting.

Before I could open my mouth, Luca spoke.

"Ms. Santoro's schedule doesn't allow for that."

Jean looked at him. I looked at him. The air in the room shifted.

Luca was standing with his arms at his sides, expression perfectly controlled, voice perfectly even. But I knew him well enough by now to see past all of that. The set of his jaw.

The way his eyes had gone very still. He was bothered, and he was using every tool he had not to show it, which meant he was significantly more bothered than he appeared.

I found this extraordinarily interesting.

"Luca." My voice came out light. Conversational.

"Aria…"

"You don't need to answer for me."

A beat. An expression moved across his face, fast, contained, gone before Jean could have caught it. But I caught it.

"Aria." My name in his mouth, lower this time. A warning disguised as a word.

I turned back to Jean, who was watching this exchange with the poorly concealed delight of a man who thinks he has just witnessed an advantage opening up in front of him.

"I would love to, Jean-Paul," I said pleasantly. "Wouldn’t miss it."

I wouldn't let him miss out on what I can do. He is underestimating me.

You are in for it, Jean-Paul.

Jean's smile returned in full. "Excellent. I'll have my assistant reach out to confirm your schedule. I have your number, I will send a text to you to give you the details of the address we will be going to."

"Perfect."

I stood, signaling the meeting's end, and shook his hand properly this time. He left with the satisfied energy of someone who had gotten more than they came for.

The room went very quiet.

Then I turned to face Luca.