James Moran placed a new file on Duke's desk. It was the final report on the Manhattan penthouse prepared for Elsie.
The file contained architectural blueprints, a list of the security team, and résumés for the private staff. Everything was configured to the highest possible standard.
"Sir, the Fifth Avenue residence is ready. We can welcome Miss Sutton at any time," James reported.
Duke flipped through the pages, his eyes pausing for a moment on the designs for a fully equipped "medical wing."
"What is the Suttons' timeline?" he asked, his voice flat.
"Mrs. Hermina Moody would like to proceed with the... transfer... as soon as possible after your first meeting."
Duke closed the file and tossed it onto the desk. The sound was sharp in the quiet office.
"No," he said.
James blinked, surprised. This marriage was orchestrated by Duke himself. He had assumed his boss would be eager.
Duke rose from his chair and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to James. He looked down at the city below, a king surveying his kingdom.
"Let her stay at the manor for a few more days," he said, his voice distant. "A bird, moved too suddenly from one cage to another, will grow distressed."
James tried to decipher the meaning behind the words. It sounded almost like consideration, a sentiment so alien to Duke's usual methods that it was jarring.
"Is the restaurant for the first meeting confirmed?" Duke asked, changing the subject.
"Yes, sir. Le Bernardin. The most private table has been reserved."
"Inform the Suttons. The day after tomorrow. Seven p.m."
"Of course." James hesitated, then decided to risk it. "Sir, if I may be so bold... why the Suttons? Miss April Sampson of Sampson Pharmaceuticals seemed..."
The Sampson family was another biotech giant, one that had been aggressively pursuing an alliance with the Blakes for years.
Duke turned around. The shift in the room's atmosphere was instantaneous. The temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. His eyes were chips of ice.
"James," he said, his voice dangerously soft, "do I need to explain my decisions to you?"
A cold sweat broke out on James's neck. "No, sir. My apologies."
"Get out."
James all but fled the office.
Alone again, Duke walked back to his desk and unlocked the drawer. He pulled out the photo of Elsie.
He stared at it for a long moment. This wasn't a merger. It was a hostile takeover of her life, one he had been planning for a very long time.
He wasn't in a hurry to move her to his penthouse. He was enjoying this. Enjoying watching her walk, step by step, into the intricate trap he had laid just for her.
A possessive, burning heat flashed in his eyes, but he quickly smothered it with his iron-clad control.
He put the photo away and pressed a button on his intercom.
"Send in Alex Stone."
Alex was the assistant in charge of his... private health.
