Claiming His Heir

Chapter 2: The root cuttings

Sadie’s POV

The Department of Agriculture was in a state of controlled chaos.

I arrived an hour early for my shift at the annex of the research facility, hoping to avoid the frantic pace of the faculty. The Dean had invited some kind of 'strategic partner' from the private sector, and for the last two days, the professors had been running around like headless chickens, dusting bookshelves that had gone untouched in a decade.

I kept my head down, concentrating on the tray of root cuttings in front of me. Botany was my favorite subject, propagation in particular—the quiet logic of it all, that if you provided the right circumstances for something to live, it would live. It was a logic that did not seem to apply to humans.

“Sadie!”

I jumped, dropping my tweezers. Dr. Halloway, my thesis advisor, was hovering in the doorway, his tie askew as if he had been living on coffee and anxiety for the last forty-eight hours.

“Yes, professor?”

“He’s here. Early.” He straightened his glasses. “I need you in the main lab. You’re the only one who actually knows how to use the spectrometer for the soil analysis, and to be honest, I’m too nervous to try it myself.”

I wiped my hands on my jeans. “I thought this was just a meet-and-greet.”

“It’s a meet-and-greet where he’s expecting a presentation on the feasibility of expanding the campus vineyard project.” Halloway hissed, grabbing my arm and practically dragging me down the corridor. “His family owns half the wineries in the state. If he pulls funding, the department budget is toast. Just… stand there and look competent. And for heaven’s sake, try to look like you aren’t wearing yesterday’s lab coat.”

I looked down at my coat. It had a small grass stain on the cuff. I sighed. “I’ll do my best.”

The main lab was large and airy, filled with the scent of chemicals and dry ease markers. A group of faculty members was standing near the entrance, practically vibrating with sycophantic energy.

In the center of the circle was a man I had never seen before.

He was tall – taller than the Dean, taller than anyone else in the room. He wore a charcoal suit that looked like it cost more than my tuition, the fabric cut sharp across broad shoulders. But it wasn’t the suit that caught my attention. It was the way he held himself.

My father was a man of the woods; he was silent, he blended into the background. This man was not silent, he did not blend into the background; he commanded attention, he dominated a room, he stood still, his hands loosely clasped in front of him, as he listened to the Dean talk of grant money.

As we approached him, he turned his head.

The air seemed to leave the room.

He was a dark-haired man, with a face of sharp angles, swept back from a strong brow, but it was his eyes, they were a startling, piercing hazel, almost golden in color, as he looked at me, a jolt of electricity ran straight through my chest as he locked eyes with mine.

Stranger.

The word echoed in my mind as I took a half-step back, bumping into a cart filled with beakers.

The noise attracted the group’s attention. The Dean looked at me in horror at my clumsiness. But the stranger… he didn’t look displeased. His lips curled up in a faint smile.

“And this is our brightest students.” Dr. Halloway said, his voice cracking from nervousness. “Sadie Vance. She’s handling the soil composition research.”

The stranger stepped forward, leaving the circle of faculty members. His movements were smooth and dangerous, like a predator stalking its prey. All the other men in the room looked clumsy in comparison.

“Sadie.”

My name sounded different when he said it. It sounded deeper and richer. His hand extended in greeting. “Taylor Blackwood. It’s nice to meet you.”

I stared at the offered hand. It was large and had long fingers and a roughness to the palm that didn’t match the smooth businessman look. A working man’s hands.

I hesitated for a second too long.

“Ms. Vance?” The Dean said, prompting me as his bulging eyes looked at me in horror.

I shook myself out of my daze. “Sorry.” I put my hand in his. His handshake was firm, warm, and dry. The static electricity I’d been feeling since entering the building intensified as soon as my skin made contact with his. It was disconcerting. It was… exciting.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Blackwood.” I tried to pull my hand back quickly, but the memory of his handshake lingered long after it was gone.

“Please, call me Taylor.” He said, still looking at me with an unblinking gaze. It was as if he could see right through me, like he could read my genome sequence just by looking at my eyes. “I hear you have a talent for making things grow.”

“I… I just follow the data.” I stuttered, crossing my arms over my chest as I tried to get my composure back. I am Sadie Vance, quiet student. I am not the kind of girl who gets nervous around handsome men in expensive suits. “The soil samples for the proposed west plot are ready. I can show you the analysis.”

Taylor moved in closer, his arm brushing against my shoulder. I stood up a little straighter but didn’t move back.

“You’re very thorough.” Taylor said softly, looking at the screen in front of me. “Most students would just tell me the soil is bad.”

“The soil isn’t bad.” I said quickly, gaining my footing since we were discussing something I knew about. “It’s just specific. It requires a grower who understands that nature doesn’t bend for anyone or anything—it bends for someone who shows it care.”

Taylor turned his head so we were inches from each other. I saw the flecks of green and gold in her eyes.

“Care.” Taylor said softly. “That’s a rare commodity in business.”

“Maybe you’re in the wrong business.” I said quickly, my words spilling out before I could stop them. I blushed in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

He laughed, and the sound was low and rough, like it vibrated through the soles of my feet. “No, you’re right. Perhaps I am.”

He straightened up, and the spell was partially broken. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and retrieved a sleek, black business card. He set it on the bench next to my hand.

“I’d like to discuss this further, Sadie. The university has its constraints, but I have a private conservatory. I think your... talents... would be better utilized there.”

I looked at the card. Taylor Blackwood, CEO, Blackwood Estates.

“I’m just a student.” I said, my voice trembling. “And I have my thesis to finish.”

“Your thesis is on the resilience of mountain flora, correct?” He knew my thesis topic. Why did he know that?

I looked up, startled. “How did you–”

“I do my homework.” Taylor said, his expression unreadable. “Just like you. Think about it.”

He turned and walked away, the faculty swarming him again as he headed to the door. Just before he exited, he glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes found mine instantly, cutting through the crowd.

I stared at the business card, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

My father had warned me about strangers. He had warned me about the woods. But as I touched the card, I realized with a jolt of terrifying clarity that danger hadn’t come from the forest.

It just walked into my lab, wearing a three-thousand-dollar suit, and I was already thinking about running after it.

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