Dear Mr Montgomery✔️

CHAPTER TWO: MEETING HIM

THIRD PERSON POV

Silence echoed in the vastness of the large room, heavy and deliberate. The atmosphere was tense as everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Around the polished table, men and women of distinction shifted subtly in their seats, adjusting and readjusting cuffs, crossing and uncrossing legs,their eyes wandering everywhere but toward each other as they got lost in thoughts of what today’s meeting might mean for their future.

To those gathered, the meeting felt less like a formality and more like an inevitability. Some were confident; some weren’t. They couldn’t be, after all, they’d had too many of these meetings and knew better. Today loomed over their heads like the day of judgment. They could leave the room as they came in, millionaires and men of renowned status, or they could leave as shadows of what they once were.

To the people in the room, the meeting was the key to their fate. After all, the man presiding over the meeting was rumored to be the devil himself. Some had called him a demon or a grim reaper, but the truth was that he was all those things and more. The double doors parted with a muted creak, and silence fell like a blade and through them walked a man in his early thirties.

His caramel skin complemented the tones of his dark suit, which fit his slim frame perfectly. His black, raven hair was styled to perfection, sharpening and emphasizing his facial features. A thin pair of gold-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, exposing his cold golden-brown eyes. Like the colour of aged whisky, warm in hue and cold in intent.

On one hand, he held a black, leather-bound smart notebook, the other remained hidden inside his pants pocket. Samson Yuvraj. Everyone knew his name, but they preferred to think of him as the messenger of death. His presence in any room not only sent chills down the spines of cowards. It signaled his imminent arrival and signified his appearance. Chairs creaked softly as everyone in the room adjusted themselves, straightening their posture. Those who could fiddle with their fingers did, others picked at their nails or at the seams of their custom-made clothes. Each of them trying to look composed under the invisible pressure.

“Samson.” A blonde-haired man in his early forties greeted nervously, flashing the young man—who stood unfazed and indifferent—a smile. His eyes burned with humiliation at being ignored, and with the realization of his reality, groveling before a man who was supposed to be a mere PA.

“We’ve all been waiting. When is he arriving?” he asked, silently wishing he had stayed quiet.

“Good afternoon.” Yuvraj said his tone was smooth, unhurried, and coldly formal. His eyes briefly scanned the room in a way that made everyone uneasy.

“Mr Montgomery will be here in two minutes,” he said, continuing to ignore the nervous man, untouched by his attempt at familiarity, who now wished he hadn’t spoken. He then took the seat at the left side of the one reserved for his boss.

As Yuvraj had announced, not a minute more or less, the door opened again, revealing the man of the day. Caspian Montgomery.

Every gaze turned toward the man who stood at the entrance. His presence was as stifling as the aura that surrounded him, one that seemed to suffocate. The room fell into silence. His presence pressed down like an invisible weight, quiet and restrained. He was the kind of man whose presence announced itself. A man respected and feared. After all, he headed a major multinational corporation and is a key player in global businesses, not to mention the heir to one of the most powerful families in the world.

Caspian Montgomery scanned the room for a few seconds before walking to his reserved seat. His cold grey eyes complemented his sharp, expressionless face. They were like the deepest part of the ocean; cold, dark, and unnervingly quiet, like a monster lurking just within reach, only a breath away from making someone his prey. From his dark hair to the permanent mask etched onto his face, he exuded an aura that made everyone want to turn and run.

He casually glanced at the silver watch on his wrist before looking at the people who watched his every move cautiously. His indifferent expression gave nothing away. Yet, the look in his eyes spoke volumes. It read disgust, as if the sight of everyone in the room repulsed him. To him, they were flimsy pests he would have gladly rid himself of, had he the time or patience.

“Let’s get this over with.” His hard voice echoed, sending chills down spines. Everyone waited with bated breath, wondering who would be brave, or foolish enough to speak first.

“Mr Montgomery, we all know your reservations regarding this merger with the Ivanovs. However, it is undeniable that merging Black Steels with Ivanov Steel is a prudent move. One that I,” he gestured weakly with his heavily jeweled fingers, which caught the light in a desperate show of importance “and the others find it viable.”

Anthony Valdez, a middle-aged man in his early fifties, spoke as he straightened his posture, tugging at his lapels, trying to match the intimidating presence that controlled the room.

Yuvraj’s eyes trailed from his boss to Anthony. He was familiar with Valdez, a lanky man who loved flash, flair and fraud in equal measure. His mint green suit was a clear indication of it. He is slick, hungry, and perpetually calculating. Valdez was the kind of man who mistook cunning for cleverness, who hid cowardice behind expensive fabric and borrowed confidence.

A greedy man who knew how to suck up and was always looking for new ways to gobble up money. Something he desperately needed, given his continually declining financial state. His words revealed his desperation, and it was clear that he and his little clique were up to no good. The so-called “others” were too cowardly to speak for themselves, but wise enough to send Valdez as their spokesman and scapegoat.

“And the others are?” Caspian asked his calm voice struck like a blade, his cold eyes locking onto Valdez’s. The tension in the room thickened as all eyes turned toward Anthony, whose throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. His Adam apple bobbing embarrassingly loud in the silence that followed. His heavily ringed fingers twitched against the polished table, leaving faint smudges.

“I–I don’t think… What I mean is—” Anthony stammered, trying to backtrack and salvage himself. His voice cracking under the pressure.

“You don’t sound like you know what you want, Valdez,” Caspian said coldly. A faint grin slowly curved his lips. A grin many had learned to recognize. The prelude to destruction, they called it. The devil’s grin.

“I–I—” Anthony started, but Caspian cut him off.

“How are things going with your projects, Valdez?” Caspian’s voice dropped several octaves, the sound of his anger freezing the room as the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. The room froze. No one dared move, breathe, or even glance at Valdez, whose forehead now glistened with sweat despite the chill. His lips parted soundlessly before he forced a weak, trembling laugh. Some even tried to control their breathing, hoping to blend into the background.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Anthony feigned ignorance, though no one was fooled.

“Isn’t the estimated profit for this year over two hundred million dollars? I’m looking forward to the turnover.” His lips curved into a smile, the kind that unsettled everyone in the room and set the tone for the rest of the meeting.

His words were a warning. Valdez had been fooling investors into unwise deals, using his position in Montgomery Holdings as a guarantee.

Caspian Montgomery was a hard, cruel, and ruthless businessman. No one got in his way. And he was not a man who would let anyone take advantage of his name.

KATHERINE’S POV

“…Can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t,” I answered absentmindedly. My focus buried in the swirl of frosting I was trying to perfect.

A loud bang against the counter made me jump, snapping me out of concentration. The piping bag jerked in my hand as a ribbon of frosting splattered across the cake. My eyes snapped up to glare at the culprit. Carolina Rodriguez, my best friend, business partner, and professional chaos generator. The most infuriating woman I know.

“Why did you do that?” I hissed.

“You weren’t listening to me,” she fired back, crossing her arms in defiance with her chin tilted in mock offense.

“I’m trying to get this right, Lina,” I said, dropping the frosting bag on the counter with a sigh.

“I’m talking about your business.” she retorted, her brown eyes narrowing.

“Our business,” I corrected. “You handle the administrative side and the whole chaos that comes with it. I handle the baking magic. We balance each other out, that’s why we’re the perfect team. That's why we work." I explained what felt like the thousandth time in the past five years.

She groaned. "That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pay attention.I listen to your baking stuff all the time!”

“That’s because your stomach’s involved,” I countered dryly. “You get to eat whatever I bake. You’d listen to a full lecture on frosting ratios if it ended with you eating cupcakes. You have the biggest sweet tooth than anyone else I know.”

She rolled her brown eyes muttering “You’re my friend. You’re supposed to listen to me,” before looking back at her phone.

My heart warmed to my grumpy best friend. I couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped me, warmth bubbling in my chest. Carolina is bossy, blunt, and impossible, but she's also my favorite person in the world.

Carolina Rodriguez had been my friend since kindergarten. We came from the same polished and upper-class family. Our mothers were even in the same social circle, though hers was slightly wealthier. Carolina and I started a bakery-s***h-café chain five years ago, during our final year of college.

Well, my final year, since she’d taken a “soul-searching” gap year, which, spoiler, was just code for partying through Europe. If there was anything she found, it was her insane tolerance of alcohol. She was just a class behind me. Although I studied business management, I’d always wanted to open my own bakery. Carolina joined me later, and together we expanded. Now we have three cafés across New York.

I wasn’t as ambitious as Carolina. She was the ambitious one. Fearless, driven, unapologetically herself. From the very beginning, she was determined to turn our small café into a chain, and she did. Her family had thought it was a joke, and our idea was just a hobby. They believed she couldn’t do it, at least not without their support and backing. The first few years were brutal, but she proved them wrong. She is the best manager in the world.

“Is this about Flavor Island?” I asked, turning to her, ready to listen.

“It is.” she grumbled.

“You shouldn’t worry about them. They have nothing to do with us, and we have nothing to do with them.”

“Can you believe that son of a b**ch —” she cursed.

“D-bag jar,” I interrupted, pointing to the glass jar sitting on the counter. It was almost full. She sighed but stuffed five dollars into it anyway.

“You know,” I teased, “you’re personally responsible for ninety percent of that jar’s contents.”

“And I’m proud of it,” she said without shame, flipping her hair.

Carolina had the foulest mouth of anyone I knew. She swore like it was her second language. She cursed like a sailor. She didn’t care if kids were around; . I once saw her curse out a toddler. A toddler! Yes, the kid was annoying, maybe even possessed, but still.

That’s Carolina. If you mess with her, she’s coming for you. She didn’t believe in filters, pretenses, or waiting her turn. She was pure, beautiful chaos wrapped in ambition and high heels. She’s tough, strong, and confident, with an “I don’t give a f**k” attitude. But I knew her better than anyone, under all that fire, she was warm, fiercely loyal, and had the biggest heart imaginable.

She just doesn’t give it away easily. She’s more than a friend to me. She’s my family, my sister, my soulmate.

“Pfft…” She suddenly scoffed at her phone, scrolling with irritation. My gaze followed hers, and my stomach twisted. There, on the screen, was a familiar pendant, his pendant, resting on my sister Vivian's neck with the caption: #TrueLove and #NewGifts.

The air left my lungs. My chest felt heavy, like I’d been sucker-punched.

Lina looked up at me before hastily locking her phone and forced a bright tone.

“I don’t know who she’s trying to show off to. Can't believe the witch still tags me. It's fine because you’ve moved on… right?” she said, raising a brow.

“I’ve moved on.” I said quietly

She arched a brow. “Have you, though?”

“What?” I frowned, sensing where this was going.

“Your heart might not be with him anymore, but you haven’t truly moved on until someone else has your attention.”

"What's that supposed to mean?” I turned away and tried to focus on my frosting.

She clasped her hands like she was about to pray “Well… let me put it in the most innocent way possible for your fragile heart.”

“I know!" Her eyes glinting mischievously, "Get yourself a man and get laid.” She blurted it out.

I groaned. “Lina—”

“I’m serious. I'm just saying, the only way to get over a man is to get under another. Meaning, you need to get thoroughly f****d”

“Oh my God, Carolina! Jar! Ten bucks in the jar!” I pointed firmly.

“I will, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” She snorted but still fished a ten-dollar bill out of her wallet and dropped it in..

“I changed my mind, make that twenty.”

She rolled her eyes and fished for her wallet again.

“You’re singlehandedly funding our next renovation,”

“ Then it would have been worth it.” She grinned unapologetically.

“s*x is therapeutic, Kate. A good—” she began, but I cut her a look so sharp she laughed instead.

“Fine! Twenty-five,” she said already digging into her purse again, grinning like the devil she was.

“I have an idea,” she said suddenly that came with a sly grin. The one that meant she was about to drag me into something I’d regret.

“No,” I said immediately.

“You haven’t even heard it.”

“I don’t need to. I know that look. No”

“Just hear me out.”

“Fine.”

“It’s Friday night. The night is young and full of life. Instead of perfecting frosting, we could go out.”

“I knew it. No.”

“You can’t say no.”

“I can and I am. You go ahead. I fully support you,” I said sweetly.

“I just want you to have some fun. What’s wrong with that?” she asked softly, her voice eyes wide and her voice small.

Her manipulation technique that always works wonders on the human population. I've known her for so long I like to think I'm immune.

Oh no. I knew this tone. She was guilt-tripping me.

“Not a chance,” I said firmly.

“I just wanted to have fun with my best friend. It’s fine. You don’t have to go. Sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

Oh no.

“Fine. I’ll go.” I sighed in resignation. That was too easy. I'm definitely not immune.

“Good!" Her face exploded into a smile "Because I already reserved a VIP section at one of the fanciest clubs in Manhattan.Midnight.” She grinned.

“Great. We’re going to a club called Midnight. Sounds classy.” I said, dripping with sarcasm.

“It is,” she said cheerfully ignoring my sarcasm. “You don’t have to fall in love or anything or sleep with anyone. You should put yourself out there. Flirt, have fun. You’re not looking for a soulmate. Just talk, laugh, make someone blush. If you’re uncomfortable, you can always stop. Remember, you are allowed to have fun."

She was right, and I appreciated how hard she was trying to help. It would’ve been easier if I had simply broken up with Alan, but he wasn’t just my ex, he was my now my soon to be brother-in-law.

“Yeah, you’re right" I smiled faintly.

“Good. Let’s go change. We can’t show up like this.” She grabbed my arm, smiling brightly as we left the kitchen. She looked thrilled. Me? I wasn’t so sure.

My smile was shaky. Terrifyingly unsure.