"Let's have a talk now. Shall we?"

Xavier leaned back slightly, adjusting the cuff of his jacket. "Oh, yes." He glanced at his watch, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I've got an appointment in two hours, so let's make it quick. And please, Yelena, get to the point. I know you like to play around, but maybe some other day."

"Sure." She huffed, irritation flickering through her tone. "I'm not free either, you know? I am one of the heirs of the Red family — a direct descendant. And the Red family owns what most of the world runs on."

Xavier tilted his head, lips curling. "What, energy and sex?"

Her eyes widened. "No!" she snapped, almost hissing.

He chuckled and leaned back further. "Then stop wasting my time with family introductions. If you've got something real to say, say it. Otherwise, I'll go back to my table and win another few million while you're still thinking of words."

That seemed to cut through whatever surface composure she was holding. Yelena exhaled slowly, straightening her posture, her playful demeanor dissolving into something serious. "Fine," she said. "Since you insist. You might not realize it, Xavier, but that five percent you hold — it's not some casual token. It's power. Even the removed relatives and the distant descendants of the Red bloodline, the ones who've spent decades trying to crawl their way into the board — they don't own that much. But you do. And that gives you a voice and an influence. One that can shift the balance in the family if you choose to use it."

Xavier's reaction was a small shrug, as if she'd told him the weather forecast. "I jokingly asked for five percent as a reward last time," he said, tone light. "Didn't think your old man would actually give it to me. But he did — signed it right there, stamped and all. I figured it was just his way of saying thanks."

Yelena gave a faint, humorless smile. "That's how the Red family moves, Xavier. Every 'thank you' comes with a contract."

She paused for a moment, then leaned closer, her voice dropping an octave. "Which is why I want to make a proposal. I want you to join me."

Her tone — the softness in it, the way her eyes lingered on his — made it sound less like a political offer and more like a confession. Even Lyra noticed it; her expression subtly tightened, her hand resting on her thigh as her gaze darted between them.

Xavier, of course, played dumb — on purpose. "Join you?" he said with a smirk, feigning confusion. "You mean like... for a dinner or a game, or are we talking about something else here?"

Yelena's lips curved faintly. "Maybe both," she murmured before continuing, her tone shifting back to business. "I don't hold any shares right now — not until I turn twenty-one. But my father controls sixty-nine percent. He can only distribute thirty among his children, and there are seven of us in total — four brothers and two sisters besides me. When the time comes, the Red family council and the shareholders will vote for the next patriarch or matriarch. It won't be blood alone that decides it — it'll be power, alliances, and influence."

"My brothers have already formed their own factions. Some of them are backed by uncles, some by corporate wings, some even by foreign syndicates. The daughters—well, we're treated like decoration pieces unless we prove otherwise. And I don't plan on sitting quietly while my brothers carve up the world my father built."

She leaned back, crossing her arms. "I intend to take what's mine. Whether through alliance, negotiation, or something else entirely. My sisters trust me more than they trust the others, and I can make them turn their shares over when the time comes. But if I have you—" her gaze locked onto Xavier's, steady, unwavering— "then my odds multiply. Your five percent, your connections, your reputation—people listen to you even when you don't say anything. With your support, I could challenge any one of them, maybe even all of them."

Lyra's expression had darkened; she didn't like where this was going, though she stayed silent. Yelena's tone softened again, the edges of her ambition cloaked in velvet. "So what do you say, Xavier?" she asked quietly. "Stand with me. You'll gain more than power if you do. You'll have me."

Xavier didn't answer right away. He just smiled faintly, gaze flicking from Yelena to Lyra, then back to his drink.

And in that quiet pause — where no one spoke but the tension filled the room like smoke — it was impossible to tell what he was actually thinking.

Xavier tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "So tell me something," he said, voice calm, cutting through the thick air between them. "What do I get in return?"

Yelena smiled faintly, that same sly, composed kind of smile that looked rehearsed yet natural. "Power," she said. "Influence. The kind of reach that—"

Xavier cut her off, voice low but sharp. "I can get that even without you." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes narrowing slightly. "So what's the point of joining you? What's the real benefit?"

Her words faltered for a second, but her expression didn't. She sat back, crossing her legs, clearly thinking through her next line carefully — like someone picking her next move in a chess match she already thought she'd won. "When I come into power," she finally said, tone smooth again, "I'll back you in everything you do. There won't be a single law, family, or government that could stop you. You'll have the kind of immunity that makes even the syndicates bow their heads. Whatever you do — the biggest crime, the boldest act — no one will touch you."

She paused, studying his face, trying to read what was behind his quiet stare. "That's what I'm offering, Xavier. Freedom without consequence."

Xavier's lips twitched in a small, amused smirk. He gave her a long look — the kind that said he'd heard that kind of promise before, from people who thought they were untouchable. "Interesting offer," he said, almost casually. "But tell me this—if that's all you're offering, why don't I just go to one of your brothers instead? Back them. Get the same deal, maybe a better one."

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