Tempting my Billionaire

The Unwelcome Interferance

★Nathan★

The morning sunlight streamed through my office windows, and it caught the edge of the framed awards that lined the wall. The city below was already awake, and the sound of honking horns echoed faintly through the glass. But all I could think about was the email I was fuming over. My father had retired three years ago, and I had inherited Grant & Co. Marketing. The business was mine. Mine. Of course, he felt like he still had a say. He felt like he was still running the company. And he wasn’t. I was. I leaned back in my chair as I pinched the bridge of my nose. The email was straightforward and to the point.

▶Grant & Co. Marketing will do a joint campaign with Vivienne at LuxeLine on a luxury lifestyle campaign.

And that was it. Nothing more. Except, of course, the meeting that was scheduled for this morning. I wasn’t just pissed, I was annoyed. I had a business to run, and now I had to take time out of my already busy schedule to do whatever my father wanted me to do.

“You have that meeting with LuxeLine in thirty minutes,” Harper said as she came into my office. She took one look at me and smiled. “I have already reshuffled your schedule for today,” she added.

“Yeah…thanks, Harper,” I said. “But we are not taking this project, so…” my voice trailed off, and while I saw her hesitate, she then nodded. Without another word, she left, and I got to my feet as I straightened my tie. My office was quiet, except for the hum of the air conditioner and the faint buzz of the city outside. It was my space, and I kept it clean and modern with a glass desk, leather chairs, and modern art on the walls. I liked order. I liked control. And right now, I had neither. I walked out and took the private elevator down to the underground parking lot. LuxeLine wasn’t far and took me twenty minutes to get there, just because of traffic. I headed inside as soon as I parked my car. And the expensive perfume hit me first. The front entrance was sleek, lined with black and white photos from past campaigns. It was bold, clean, and impressive. I was halfway to the meeting room when my phone buzzed. I considered ignoring it, but I just knew that it was my father. I rolled my eyes when I saw that it was him who had texted.

✉Dad: Good luck with the campaign. Do us proud. You know how Vivienne respects confidence.

I stared at the message for a long second before I slid the phone into my pocket.

“Unbelievable,” I muttered. The conference room doors were already open. My plan was simple: listen, evaluate, and then politely decline until I could review the proposal properly. But the moment I stepped inside, the plan evaporated. Because sitting at the far end of the table was Cassandra Lionel. For a second, I almost stopped walking. Her presence hit me harder than I expected. She looked composed and calm, dressed in a fitted blazer the color of champagne, her hair swept neatly behind her shoulders. She was poised, every inch the professional her mother had molded her to be. Vivienne sat beside her, mid-conversation with someone I didn’t recognize. She noticed me and smiled.

“Nathan! Right on time, please…take a seat,” she said, and I nodded once as I forced myself to focus.

“Vivienne,”

“Thank you for coming,” she continued smoothly. “I know all of this was arranged rather quickly, but I thought it would be good to discuss the campaign directly,” my attention drifted briefly to Cassandra. She avoided my eyes at first, as she flipped through the pages of a presentation folder, her composure almost too perfect. I remembered the way she had looked at me during that lunch, polite but wary, as if I were a problem she didn’t want to solve. Now here we were, sitting across from each other in a glass room that overlooked the skyline. I cleared my throat and took a seat.

“Before we begin,” I said evenly. “I want to clarify something. This proposal was initiated by my father. He is retired. I was not consulted prior to this meeting,” Vivienne’s smile didn’t falter.

“I am aware, but I assure you this collaboration benefits both companies. The campaign is built around innovation and legacy. That describes LuxeLine and Grant & Co. perfectly,” she explained. I could argue with that, but I didn’t. At least, not yet. Vivienne then gestured to Cassandra. “My daughter will be taking over as CEO soon. This project will serve as her introduction to the corporate side of LuxeLine. I expect the same professionalism from everyone involved,” and there it was. The tiniest detail. An important detail that my dear father had neglected to tell me. Of course, it was no secret that Cassandra would be taking over. I had merely forgotten about that. However, my father could have given me the heads up. And for a moment, all I could do was stare at her. The polished woman in front of me was a far cry from the girl I used to tease at Rosehaven Hall. She was confident now, mature, and she carried herself with a quiet authority that demanded respect. In fact, Cassandra looked different from the woman I had seen in her condo. She looked professional and ready for business. But I was no longer angry. I leaned back in my seat and made sure to school my expression into one of calm interest.

“Then let us see what you have prepared,” I said, and Cassandra finally looked up. Her hazel eyes met mine, and for a brief second, something flickered there. Irritation, curiosity, or maybe both. But she said nothing, as she slowly stood up to start the presentation. Cassandra spoke with precision and clarity, her voice steady as she detailed the campaign’s concept: merging LuxeLine’s fashion influence with our marketing expertise to create a multimedia rollout. Every slide was well thought out, and her delivery was flawless. I listened, impressed despite myself. When she finished, she sat back down, her expression unreadable. Vivienne turned to me.

“So, Nathan, what do you think?” I tapped my pen against the table.

“It is ambitious,” I said slowly. “And it has potential. But before committing, I would like to review the proposal in more depth,”

“Of course,” Vivienne said. “Take your time,” Cassandra’s eyes flicked toward me again, studying me.

“I will need to speak with my team,” I added. “If we move forward, I would prefer to coordinate directly with your lead on this,” Vivienne’s lips curved.

“That would be Cassandra,” she said, and I looked at Cassandra as I held her gaze.

“Then I look forward to working together,” I said. Cassandra’s jaw tightened slightly, but she smiled politely.

“Likewise,” she said. The meeting wrapped up twenty minutes later. Papers were gathered, polite goodbyes exchanged. I ignored Vivienne as Cassandra, and I lingered in the doorway. She glanced up at me and sighed softly. “I must say, you handled that well. Considering the look of frustration on your face when you first walked in,”

“Ah…so you noticed,” I said, and she nodded.

“It was difficult not to,”

“You did a good job, Cassandra. I mean that,” I said. She hesitated as she studied me closely. And then she nodded.

“Thank you,” her professionalism was flawless, but I saw the flicker of unease behind her calm. Maybe she was wondering the same thing I was: how long we could keep this civil. As she turned to leave, I caught my reflection in the glass. My earlier frustration was gone, replaced with something else entirely. Excitement. If this project meant working closely with Cassandra Lionel, I suddenly had no intention of backing out. It was go time.

★★★