Lucian's Pov
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the old man across from me with a level of disdain I reserved for people who overstayed their welcome. Which, in this case, was precisely what Gregory Williams had done. He was tall, sure—probably my height—but whatever grace he had left with his youth. At fifty-eight, the man looked like a melted candle in a suit.
He droned on about "once-in-a-lifetime opportunities" and "strategic partnerships," waving his hands like he was conducting some kind of symphony of desperation. I wasn't even listening anymore; I was far too busy wondering how this man had made it this far in life without someone permanently gluing his mouth shut.
"Lucian, this deal is going to make you richer than you've ever imagined," he said, leaning forward, his voice dropping as though he were sharing the secrets of the universe with me.
I raised an eyebrow, deliberately slow. "Gregory, I don't need more money. I'm already drowning in it. You're aware of that, right?"
The man chuckled, as if I'd just made a charming joke, when really I was just pointing out the obvious. "Ah, yes, but this… this is different. Think about it! Your name attached to our brand, our joint empire stretching across—"
I waved a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Please. Spare me the dramatics. I'm not interested."
I could see the flicker of panic in his eyes, but to his credit, he didn't give up. The man was like a cockroach; no matter how many times I stepped on his argument, he just wouldn't die. He leaned in even closer, his beady little eyes glistening with some combination of greed and… was that hope? God, I hated hopeful people.
"Name your price, Lucian," he said, his voice almost pleading. "Anything. You tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. That's how much this deal means to me."
Anything? Now, that was dangerous territory. I glanced at my watch, more out of boredom than necessity. I should've been out of this room twenty minutes ago, but Gregory Williams had somehow trapped me in a verbal prison, one boring sentence at a time. Maybe I needed to play dirty.
A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips, and I folded my arms across my chest. "Anything, you say?"
"Anything," he repeated, too eagerly. Poor fool.
I tapped my fingers against the table, pretending to think it over. My eyes flicked to the gaudy family photo advert sitting on his side of the table. Ah, yes. He had daughters. Two of them, if I remembered correctly. Pretty, elegant, and most importantly, Daddy's precious little treasures. The man treated them like the crown jewels.
Perfect.
"Well then, Gregory, since you're so desperate to get me on board," I began, locking eyes with him, "how about you give me one of your daughters?"
The color drained from his face. "My… my daughters?"
"Yes," I said, drawing out the word slowly. "One of them, say, as my personal maid. For five months." I leaned forward, as if sharing a secret of my own. "You know, just to sweeten the deal."
I expected an explosion—outrage, fury, maybe even a little name-calling. Hell, I was hoping for it. I had no intention of actually making some poor girl fetch my coffee and iron my shirts for five months. This was my out. Surely, the man would storm out of here in a huff, deal broken, and I'd be free.
But Gregory Williams didn't storm out. He didn't even flinch. Instead, he leaned back, stroking his chin in thought. In thought.
I blinked. "Gregory?"
"Which one?" he asked calmly, as if I were asking which tie he should wear to a gala.
Which… one?
I had to stop myself from laughing. This was not how this was supposed to go. "You can't be serious."
He shrugged, his calm demeanor infuriating. "If that's what it takes to seal this deal, Lucian, then I'll consider it. Sarah's more… traditional, but Jennifer's got a fire in her. I think she'd be a good fit."
For a brief moment, I was speechless—a rare occurrence, mind you. The man was willing to sell off one of his daughters like a piece of furniture, all for a business deal. I opened my mouth to protest, to backtrack, but the words died on my tongue. I had brought this upon myself, and backing out now would only make me look weak.
I forced a tight smile, leaning back in my chair again. "Well, I… suppose Jennifer will do, then."
"Done," Gregory said, standing up and extending his hand like we'd just agreed on the weather.
I stared at his hand, then at his face, still processing the absurdity of the situation. Was this man truly willing to go this far? I hesitated before shaking his hand, praying that he'd come to his senses once he left this room.
"Great," Gregory beamed. "I'll have her packed and ready by next week."
I blinked. "Next week?"
"Next week," he repeated. "I'll call my lawyer to get the paperwork sorted. This will be smooth, you'll see. Looking forward to working with you, Lucian."
As he left, I was left sitting there in stunned silence, wondering what the hell just happened.
Note to self: Never underestimate the desperation of a man who's lost his dignity somewhere along the way.
Maybe, just maybe, Gregory Williams would wake up in the middle of the night, realize how insane this was, and back out. But knowing my luck… I was probably going to end up with a maid named Jennifer.