Page 19 of The Founder's Power

“No,” he says. His smirk drops, and his expression now is dark and cruel. “I came here to take what you never deserved to keep.”

I go still. “The company?”

He steps back. “That… and more.”

My heart skips a beat. He’s talking about Isabelle. How did he find out about her? I don’t know, but the threat in his gaze is crystal clear. He isn’t only going to come for my business. He intends to come for her too.

CHAPTER9

ISABELLE

I’m running late again.

The gallery’s prepping for a new feature, I’ve got three commissioned pieces due by the end of the month, and I still haven’t decided what to do about Damian’s proposal.

And not just the professional one.

The other one.

The one where he kissed me like he meant every second we lost and then held me like he might never let go.

I’m still thinking about that when I step into Hearth & Honey for a quiet moment and a shot of caffeine before I get swallowed whole by my studio. The bell above the door jingles, and the familiar scent of roasted beans and honeyed vanilla wraps around me.

A businessman sits at a window table. He’s polished and poised, like he was waiting for something… or someone.

I look away but the line is long, and when I glance that man’s way again, his eyes land on me, and his smile is smooth and disarming. His gaze lingers without feeling invasive.

I wish this line would move faster, especially as I notice the businessman out of the corner of my eye. He stands and steps toward me with a kind of quiet confidence that most men try to fake and few actually possess.

“You must be Isabelle,” he says, his voice like silk and slow bourbon.

I look at him again, but I don’t recognize him. Has he been to one of my galleries? “I’m sorry… Do we know each other?”

He chuckles and offers a hand. “No, but I’ve heard a lot about you. Vincent Grey.”

I take his hand briefly, cautiously. His grip is firm but not aggressive, and for some reason, that unsettles me more. He doesn’t push the way Damian does. He invites smoothly and intentionally.

I feel like I’m being pulled into a conversation I didn’t ask to be part of.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say carefully.

Vincent’s eyes glitter with something. Amusement? Challenge? I can’t quite place it.

“Your name has come up in the business world once or twice.”

I arch a brow. “Is that so?”

“Mmm,” he hums. “I didn’t realize the woman behind the work was quite so… compelling.”

His words are perfectly delivered, flattering without being overt and warm without being familiar, but it sets off a low alarm in my chest.

I tilt my head to the side and inch forward in line. “What do you want, Mr. Grey?”

He grins. “Just coffee and maybe a chance to get to know you.”

“And why would that interest you?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because I’m drawn to brilliance, and I always make time for what matters.”

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