Chapter 36: CEO meeting
1487 Words
Mario POV
Simple.
For the first time in a long while, everything was simple.
Thumper was finally behaving the way she should have from the start—quiet, compliant, grateful. Where she was meant to be. That damn dog had almost ruined everything, nearly derailed months of careful planning with his hero act and false promises of freedom.
But in the end, she chose comfort.
She always would.
Every deadline had been met a week ahead of schedule. Every contract, every acquisition, every silence I required had been delivered without resistance. My empire moved like a well-oiled machine again.
All except for one inconvenience.
Today.
A company had decided my services were insufficient for their needs. As if they had the authority to decide such a thing. As if they existed without the systems I owned, the equipment I supplied, the lives I quietly controlled.
They had requested a meeting.
How considerate of them.
Walking toward the conference wing, I straightened my cufflinks, already bored. This would be quick. Painfully educational for them—but quick.
And then I smelled it.
Wet fur.
Heat.
Territory.
I slowed my steps, irritation curling low and sharp in my gut.
A dog.
Not just any dog.
Him.
The scent hit me fully now—dominant, defiant, infuriatingly familiar. The same one that had dared to touch what was mine. The same one who had looked at Thumper like she was something to be saved instead of claimed.
I smiled.
Whoever thought it was amusing to let a mutt into my building had made a mistake. A fatal one, if they pushed hard enough.
I stepped into the room.
And there he was.
Standing like he belonged.
Like this was his territory.
Like he had any right to breathe the same air as me.
The dog lifted his head slowly, blue eyes locking onto mine.
Good.
Let him see me.
Let him understand exactly who won.
“Whoever let you in will die because of your existence,” I said coldly. “Get out of my building, you mutt.”
He didn’t respond.
That alone pissed me off.
Then I noticed them.
Five people—my people—standing beside him. Executives I had negotiated with. Men I had signed contracts with. Men who were supposed to answer to me.
My stomach tightened.
When the hell had they arrived?
And why hadn’t I been notified?
The dog finally spoke.
“I’ve made no threats toward you,” he said calmly, his tone measured, educated—controlled in a way that scraped against my nerves. “I simply requested a meeting to understand why my colleagues were offered agreements twice as favorable as the one presented to my company. Threats seem… unnecessary for a discussion like this.”
Each word landed clean. Precise.
A shot fired without raising his voice.
I felt it then—the shift.
The room tilting. Control slipping.
Paper ripped.
The sound was sharp, final.
I turned just in time to see one of my oldest alliances tearing our contract clean down the middle.
“I won’t be continuing my services with you, Sir Ariott,” the man said without hesitation. “Effective immediately. I’ll be transferring my business to Sir Valor.”
Sir. Valor.
My jaw clenched.
Before I could speak—before I could stop it—the others followed.
Paper after paper.
Contract after contract.
Years of leverage shredded in seconds.
“I’m out.”
“So am I.”
“Effective immediately.”
The room filled with the sound of my empire being dismantled by their hands.
My vision darkened.
Rage clawed up my spine, hot and blinding. This wasn’t a negotiation. This was a public execution—and the mutt hadn’t lifted a finger.
He just stood there.
Watching.
Winning.
Knowing exactly what would hurt him most, I lifted my phone.
“Please,” I said smoothly, forcing calm into my voice, “before you all leave, allow me one important call.”
I didn’t wait for permission.
I called her.
The only voice that still answered me without hesitation.
The only one who could steady my pulse—and stab the mutt where it mattered.
She picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?” Her voice was soft. Familiar. Obedient.
“Darling, is that you? Is everything alright?”
The second her voice filled the room, I smiled.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
I watched his body react—how his shoulders tensed, how his jaw tightened, how his breathing shifted just a fraction too fast. He recognized her voice.
Good.
“My love,” I said gently, lacing regret into every syllable, “I’m sorry for calling outside our schedule. I’m afraid we’ve lost the favor of several contacts today.”
I paced once, letting the words sink in.
“We’ll need to move estates. The home we selected is no longer… feasible. I know you’d grown fond of the Roosevelts, but I can’t say how they’ll react after canceling their services with my company.”
I didn’t look away from him while I spoke.
I watched the first man—the one who had torn the contract—flinch.
Fear flashed across his face.
He was already imagining the fallout. His wife. His social standing. His reputation. His fragile little life unraveling.
Then Thumper spoke again.
“Oh dear… that is a shame,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry, my love. We’ll make it work. You’ve done so much for us—worked so hard to keep everything together. It’s heartbreaking to know people would hurt us like this deliberately.”
She paused, then added, sweet and sincere:
“Perhaps we could have a quiet dinner tonight? Something small, just for us. I wish there were more I could do.”
I closed my eyes.
Victory tasted divine.
When I ended the call, I looked back at the room.
At the mutt.
At the men who now looked uncertain—uneasy—second-guessing themselves.
“She worries about us,” I said softly. “Even now.”
I tilted my head, smiling.
“Tell me, gentlemen… are you still certain of your decisions?”
And for the first time since he’d walked into my building, I saw it in his eyes.
Pain.
Raw. Unfiltered. Personal.
Good.
However, even with how perfectly my lovely little Thumper played her role, each of them still denied reinforcing the agreements.
One by one, they left.
Faces pale. Jaws tight. Fear clinging to them like perfume.
They didn’t look back—but I knew exactly where their thoughts had gone. To their wives. Their homes. Their fragile little illusions of control.
Good.
Thumper would already be speaking to them. I’d texted her every name as I looked at their expressions before they left, every detail, every weakness. She’d be kind. Gentle. Concerned. The way only she could be.
All of them were gone.
All except him.
The mutt stayed rooted where he stood.
His body was coiled tight, like a weapon begging to be used. His eyes burned—blue fire barely contained. If he were human, he’d already be swinging. If he were smarter, he’d keep his hands exactly where they were.
Because one wrong move…
And I’d tell her everything I wanted her to believe.
“Using her like this is going to be your downfall,” he said, voice low, strained, forced through clenched teeth. “I know my mate. She’s been brainwashed by your damn medical specialists. You can’t win this. Fate will bring her back to me, and I’ll fight until she is back in my arms.”
Ah.
There it was.
Hope.
Desperate. Raw. Delusional.
I laughed softly.
Not loud.
Not mocking.
Almost fond.
“It’s adorable,” I said calmly, straightening my cuffs, “that you think you still have a place in her life.”
I took a slow step closer, close enough for him to smell me. Close enough for him to understand how intentional this all was.
“She doesn’t remember you the way you remember her,” I continued smoothly. “She doesn’t dream of you. She doesn’t wake up reaching for you. She reaches for me.”
His aura flared then—thick, heavy, violent. The walls trembled just a little.
Impressive.
I smiled wider.
“But since you’ve been so honest,” I added, tilting my head, “I suppose I should return the favor.”
I leaned in, voice dropping.
“You’re not invited to our wedding.”
The word our hit exactly where I wanted it to.
His growl tore through the room—primal, furious, barely restrained. His power surged, pressing against my chest like a challenge.
For a moment—just a moment—I wondered if he’d actually lose control.
I hoped he would.
Because if he did…
I would ruin him with a single phone call.
- Writer
