Chapter 6 - The First Move
1674 Words
The first board meeting after Julian Blackwood’s death felt less like corporate governance and more like a quiet declaration of war.
Blackwood Global headquarters stood exactly as it always had—forty-two stories of glass and steel cutting into the Los Angeles skyline—but the atmosphere inside had shifted. Power had become unstable, like a chandelier hanging by a single thread.
Everyone could feel it.
Ivy arrived precisely at 8:55 a.m.
Not early enough to appear eager. Not late enough to appear careless.
The executive conference room stretched along the eastern side of the building, a cathedral of glass with a table long enough to seat twenty. The skyline burned gold beyond the windows as the morning sun rose over the city.
Ten board members were already present.
They stood when she entered.
Not out of affection.
Out of calculation.
“Mrs. Blackwood,” one of them said.
Ivy acknowledged the greeting with a small nod as she walked to the head of the table—the seat Julian had occupied for twelve years.
She didn’t hesitate before sitting in it.
Ownership was often a matter of optics.
If you looked like you belonged somewhere long enough, people eventually stopped questioning it.
A murmur moved through the room as the final chair slid open.
Sebastian walked in.
He didn’t look at Ivy immediately. Instead, he moved around the table with slow precision, greeting a few board members with short nods, his expression relaxed in a way that felt dangerously intentional.
Charcoal suit.
No tie.
Sleeves rolled just enough to imply he had better things to do than sit in meetings.
Finally, he pulled out a chair halfway down the table and sat.
Only then did his eyes meet Ivy’s.
No smile.
Just recognition.
The war had begun.
“Let’s begin,” Ivy said calmly.
A digital tablet lit up before each board member. Financial projections, acquisition timelines, quarterly reports—Julian’s empire laid out in elegant charts.
“For those unaware,” Ivy continued, “Blackwood Global currently holds controlling stakes in seventeen international logistics firms, four technology subsidiaries, and—”
“We’re aware,” Sebastian interrupted smoothly.
Every head in the room turned.
His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be.
Ivy rested her hands on the table.
“Then I’ll skip the history lesson,” she replied. “And move directly to the future.”
Sebastian leaned back in his chair.
“Please do.”
The board members shifted slightly, tension creeping across the table like a slow-moving storm.
Ivy tapped the screen before her.
A new chart appeared.
“Last night,” she said, “I authorized the cancellation of the Singapore Port Investment.”
Three board members stiffened immediately.
Someone inhaled sharply.
Sebastian did not move.
But Ivy saw the flicker.
Just for a second.
“Interesting,” he said softly.
The Singapore project had been Sebastian’s deal.
Six months of negotiations.
A multi-billion-dollar expansion into Southeast Asian shipping lanes.
Julian had stalled it for weeks before his death.
Sebastian had been planning to finalize it this quarter.
Not anymore.
“The investment was high-risk,” Ivy continued evenly. “And the volatility of foreign infrastructure markets after recent trade fluctuations makes the timing… unfavorable.”
That was a lie.
The project was brilliant.
It would have strengthened Sebastian’s influence inside the company overnight.
Which meant it had to die.
Sebastian’s gaze never left her.
“You canceled a twelve-billion-dollar expansion without consulting the board,” he said.
“I hold sixty percent of the company,” Ivy replied.
One of the older board members cleared his throat nervously.
“That is… technically correct.”
Sebastian tilted his head slightly.
“Technically.”
Ivy ignored the subtle warning in his tone.
“This decision protects the company,” she said.
Sebastian leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on the table.
“No,” he said quietly.
His blue eyes locked onto hers.
“This decision protects you.”
Silence spread through the room.
Because now everyone understood.
This wasn’t about business.
It was about territory.
Ivy smiled faintly.
“You’re welcome to present a counterargument,” she said.
Sebastian studied her for a long moment.
Then something surprising happened.
He laughed.
Low.
Soft.
Dangerous.
“Not yet,” he said.
And leaned back again.
That answer unsettled her more than anger would have.
Because Sebastian Blackwood never surrendered a move unless he already had a better one.
The meeting dragged on for another hour.
Minor approvals.
Budget reviews.
International contracts.
But no one was paying attention to the spreadsheets anymore.
They were watching the two people sitting opposite each other across the table.
Two predators pretending to run a corporation.
When the meeting ended, the board members escaped quickly—murmured excuses, tight smiles, sudden urgent calls.
Within minutes, the massive conference room was empty.
Except for them.
Ivy remained seated.
Sebastian stood by the windows, staring out at the city below.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then—
“You sabotaged me.”
His voice was calm.
Matter-of-fact.
“Yes,” Ivy said.
Sebastian turned slowly.
“You could’ve just asked me not to close the deal.”
“That would’ve been polite,” she replied.
“And you’re not feeling polite these days?”
“Not particularly.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“Good.”
He crossed the room toward her.
Not fast.
Not threatening.
But with the unhurried confidence of a man who had never been afraid of consequences.
Ivy didn’t stand.
She watched him approach instead.
When he reached the table, he stopped just on the other side of it.
“You know that deal would’ve secured my majority vote in under sixty days,” he said.
“Yes.”
“And you killed it anyway.”
“Yes.”
He nodded once.
“Smart.”
She blinked.
“That wasn’t an insult.”
“No,” he said quietly.
“It was admiration.”
Ivy felt a strange, unwelcome warmth slide through her chest.
She crushed it immediately.
“This is a game to you,” she said.
“No,” Sebastian replied.
“This is survival.”
His eyes darkened slightly.
“You’re the one who turned it into a game when you moved first.”
Ivy stood then.
They were close enough now that the table between them felt symbolic more than protective.
“You think I made the first move?” she asked.
Sebastian leaned forward slightly.
“Didn’t you?”
Ivy held his gaze.
Then she said softly—
“You canceled the Zurich financing line this morning.”
For the first time since he walked in, Sebastian looked genuinely impressed.
“How did you find that out?”
“Because I’m not stupid.”
The Zurich financing line funded three of Ivy’s smaller acquisitions.
Without it, those companies would collapse within weeks.
Sebastian smiled slowly.
“Looks like we’re even.”
Ivy felt something electric spark between them.
Hatred.
Respect.
Desire.
All tangled together.
“You really want to do this?” she asked.
“We already are.”
His voice dropped lower.
“Besides… you’re the one who started it.”
She took a slow step closer to the table.
“So finish it.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened slightly.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then he spoke again.
Quiet.
Almost thoughtful.
“Tell me something, Ivy.”
“What?”
“That night in the vineyard.”
Her pulse spiked instantly.
“What about it?”
His eyes held hers.
“When the gunshot went off… you looked surprised.”
“I was.”
“Yes,” he said slowly.
“But not scared.”
The room felt suddenly smaller.
Colder.
“What are you implying?” she asked.
“I’m not implying anything.”
His voice stayed calm.
Measured.
“I’m observing.”
Ivy’s hands curled slightly against the table.
“You think I killed him.”
“I think you wanted him dead.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” Sebastian agreed.
“It’s not.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then he said the one thing she hadn’t expected.
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
Her breath caught.
“Why?”
His expression softened just slightly.
“Because if you had…”
He leaned closer.
“…I wouldn’t be able to do this.”
And before Ivy could react—
Sebastian walked around the table, grabbed the back of her neck, and kissed her.
Hard.
Violent.
Desperate.
It wasn’t a question.
It was a collision.
Three years of restraint exploded between them in seconds.
Ivy shoved him back instantly.
Her palm cracked across his cheek.
The sound echoed in the empty conference room.
Sebastian didn’t flinch.
He just looked at her.
Breathing slightly harder.
Eyes darker than before.
“That,” Ivy said sharply, “is exactly what we’re not doing anymore.”
He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Because from where I’m standing…”
He stepped closer again.
“…it still feels inevitable.”
Ivy forced herself not to move.
“You’re wrong.”
Sebastian studied her face for a long moment.
Then he nodded once.
“Maybe.”
He turned toward the door.
But just before leaving, he paused.
“Oh,” he added casually.
“One more thing.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes.
“What?”
Sebastian looked back over his shoulder.
“The Singapore deal you canceled?”
“Yes.”
“I closed it yesterday.”
The words landed like a bomb.
Her stomach dropped.
“You’re lying.”
“No.”
A slow smile curved his mouth.
“I just didn’t feel like telling you until now.”
The door opened.
Then closed behind him.
Ivy stood alone in the silent conference room.
Heart racing.
Mind spinning.
Realizing one terrifying truth.
She had made the first move.
But Sebastian had already made the second.
And he was enjoying this far too much.
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