Page 163 of The Owner's Temptation

My brows lift, surprised. “Oh?”

“More permit issues.” His voice is clipped. Detached. But I hear what he’s really saying.

Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.

Well.

That’s adorable.

Because I already knowexactlywhat I’m going to do at the sponsor luncheon tomorrow.

And Lucian Vale?

He’s going to fucking hate it.

* * *

It’s the first day of summer, and the weather has the audacity to be perfect.

The kind of warmth that kisses your skin, the kind of breeze that carries secrets. My skirt flutters with it—light blue chiffon, soft and floaty, like innocence stitched into silk.

A lie, of course. But it’s a beautiful one.

The glass doors open as I step onto the Ledger’s upper patio, and sunlight floods everything—illuminating the marble, the curated florals, the carefully dressed sponsors and companions mingling like this is nothing more than a garden party.

But for me?

It’s a chessboard.

Lucian is gone. "Permit issues," he said with that flat, clipped tone that always meansdon’t ask. He’s off playing king of the shadows while I’m here—queen by default.

And queens?

They don’t sit on the sidelines.

Trainees aren’t allowed full contracts until they’re cleared by their sponsors. But asoft contract? One made with another sponsor—especially in Lucian’s absence?

Technically allowed.

And I plan to exploiteveryinch of that loophole.

Because the last time we had a mixer, Mr. Langston let something very interesting slip. A little comment, a passing remark that I tucked away like a dagger behind my back.

You know, Sienna… you were the top bid, right? We all wanted you. But Lucian pulled you before the decision went public.

He took me for himself. Made me believe no one had wanted me. That I was lucky he gave me a chance at all.

And maybe he thinks I should be grateful for that.

But today?

Today, I rewrite the narrative.

I scan the patio with a practiced eye—polite smiles, half-full champagne glasses, silk dresses and well-tailored suits. Then I see him.

Mr. Langston.

Early forties. Greying at the temples, but sharp in a navy linen blazer. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Handsome in a wealthy, clean-cut sort of way. The kind of man who collects assets for fun. Finance, if I remember correctly. Quiet power.

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