Page 59 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
I ordered another whiskey for myself and wine for her, buying time to find the right words for an impossible conversation. "We need to talk about the situation at the office."
Her expression grew guarded. "What situation?"
"The gossip. The speculation about us." I took a long sip of my drink, tasting nothing. "It's escalating to the point the board is bringing it up."
"I know people are talking. I've heard some of it." I watched her wilt and her shoulders sag. "Are you worried about your reputation?"
Her question felt like a knife in my chest. I wasn't thinking of myself at all. "I'm worried about yours. And about what this is doing to your career prospects."
I explained the board meeting, their pointed comments about professional conduct.
I told her about Viktoria's social campaign, the strategic spread of rumors designed to paint her as manipulative and opportunistic. With each revelation, I watched the color drain from her face.
"Your ex-wife is calling board members' wives about me?" Tessa's voice was barely above a whisper. Clearly, she hadn't realized the scope of how bad this was getting.
"She's protecting what she sees as her children's interests. Making sure no woman gets close enough to cull my attention and funds which might threaten their inheritance." The words tasted bitter in my mouth. "It's her way of getting back at me, which makes her dangerous."
Tessa stared at her wine glass, processing what I'd told her. "So everyone thinks I'm sleeping my way to the top…" Her head drooped and I felt my stomach knot up.
"Everyone thinks they know more than they actually do. But perception becomes reality in situations like this, especially when influential people are actively shaping that perception."
"And you're worried about how this affects Cross Capital." When her eyes rose, I felt accused, though there was no guile in her expression.
I hated that she thought I was only protecting myself because deep down,
I only wanted what was best for her.
I could bounce back from anything. She was the one with no safety net and big dreams.
"I'm worried about how this affects you. Your reputation, your future opportunities. You want that MBA, you want to build something for yourself. None of that happens if Viktoria succeeds in destroying your professional credibility."
She looked up at me then, and I saw the hurt she'd been trying to hide. "What are you saying, Lucian?"
This was the moment I'd been dreading, the conversation that would rip my heart out while I pretended it was a reasonable business decision. "I'm saying we need to be more careful. More discreet."
"How discreet?"
"Fewer private meetings. Less visible interaction at the office. Maybe Daniel should take over some of your mentorship, handle your project assignments for a while." Each word felt like swallowing boiling glass, but I forced them out. "We need to give people less to speculate about."
The silence that followed was devastating. I watched her face as she processed what I was really saying—that I was pulling away from her professionally and personally, creating distance that would protect us both but destroy the tender flame we'd been nurturing.
"I see." Her voice was steady, but I could hear the pain underneath. "So we step back from each other, go back to being nothing more than boss and employee."
"It's temporary, Tessa. Just until?—"
"Until when?" Tears brimmed in her eyes and I noticed the tremor in her hands. I also noticed how her jaw was clenched, the way her lip quivered. The way her pulse seemed to pound in her chest. "Until you don't regret me anymore?" Tessa was shaking, on the verge of breaking down crying. What was I doing?
I was merely suggesting that the arrangement we had needed to be more discreet and it looked like she was taking it very hard, which only meant one thing.
Tessa was developing feelings for me the same way I was falling for her, and she'd been too professional to say anything about it. She'd been keeping the agreement and all the while, her heart was getting tangled up as easily as mine had.
I'd spent all day—all month, in fact—thinking that getting my heart all wrapped up in another relationship had been a mistake.
But this wasn't a mistake—it was the best thing that had happened to me in years. But I couldn't tell her that without making everything worse.
"This isn't about regret," I said quietly. "This is about protecting what we both care about."
"Lucian… It feels like you're only protecting yourself." Her words were so quiet, and I couldn't blame her. Somewhere along the line, a spark happened between us and I caught it, but I rationalized it away, like she never felt it too. But she had.
