Lute's Pov
I watched as the words flowed effortlessly from Jai's lips, each one delivered with purpose and clarity. I was completely lost—mesmerized by her presence. There was something about the way she carried herself: a perfect blend of beauty, confidence, and sharp intelligence.
I tried to keep my focus on what she was saying, I really did. But it was almost impossible. If my eyes weren't locked on the depth of her gaze—those beautiful, expressive eyes—then they were tracing the curve of her lips: small, soft, a delicate shade of pink that seemed to invite curiosity.
What is happening to me? I raked a hand through my hair, trying to regain some semblance of control, of composure.
"I've crunched the numbers," she said, her tone crisp and professional, "and I believe we can reach our goals with a budget of $1,000,000. That should give us enough flexibility to collaborate with a few high-profile influencers, as well as some smaller creators who can help expand our reach across different demographics."
She smiled then—a quiet, confident smile—as she adjusted the hem of her dress, subtly tugging it down. It was a small gesture, almost unnoticeable, but it made my breath hitch for a moment. She had this ability to command a room without even trying, and I wasn't sure whether I was admiring her pitch or falling under her spell.
Maybe both.
I leaned back in my chair, my mind replaying everything she had said. The numbers, the strategy, the plan—everything sounded solid. "Aiight, I think that's doable. Let's move forward with the campaign and see if we can make it happen," I said, nodding to myself as I made the decision.
Her face lit up with a smile, eyes wide with excitement. "Is it approved?" she asked, her voice bubbling with anticipation.
I nodded slowly, the words leaving my mouth almost absentmindedly as I found myself watching her again. This time, I wasn't listening to her words—I was focused on the way she moved as she packed up her work files from my desk, each movement graceful, deliberate.
"Can I go now?" she asked, her voice soft, but there was a hint of reluctance beneath it.
I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on her a little longer. "Soo..." I started, my voice taking on a playful edge. "You're cute, you know that, right?" I tried to keep it casual, though I knew I was pushing boundaries I shouldn't. But something about her made it so hard to stay composed.
Her eyes flickered to the ground, and I could hear the slight stutter in her response. "Sir," she sputtered, clearly caught off guard.
I smirked, taking a slow step closer. "Why are you so pretty?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop myself. As I walked toward her, I felt the space between us shrink, and suddenly, the room felt a lot smaller. I inched closer, watching the way her body seemed to tense up as I closed in.
"Sir," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You're being unprofessional right now."
I couldn't help it. I reached up, my hand cupping her cheeks gently, and I stared into her eyes, searching for any flicker of a reaction—any sign of what she was really feeling.
"But I like you," the words spilled out of my mouth before I could even think. They tumbled uncontrollably, my mind racing to catch up with my own confession. "From the very day I met you at that restaurant."
A few conversations later, things had spiraled into an uncomfortable silence, heavy with unspoken tension.
"Why don't you leave me alone and look for people your own age?" She spat, breaking free from my grip. Her eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—disappointment, maybe even a hint of disgust.
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I felt a tight knot form in my chest. Nobody had ever spoken to me like that—not like she just did. Not even the board, not even my employees, and certainly not my mother. But now, she... she saw me the same way they did.
This is what everyone thought of me—too young, too disconnected, too out of touch.
"So it's about the age, huh?" I tutted, shoving my hands into my pockets, trying to mask the hurt I felt with a nonchalant shrug.
"Yeah," she said, her voice calm, almost indifferent as she shrugged and cocked her head. It was almost as if she had resigned herself to this moment, as if she had expected it all along.
I could feel the frustration building inside me, a wave of heat rising to my face. "Get out," I said, my voice low but firm.
"I... I don't—" she stammered, the words caught in her throat, but I wasn't in the mood for explanations.
"Get out!" I yelled, the command filling the room with an intensity I hadn't intended.
Her eyes widened, a flash of fear crossing her face as she turned and sprinted toward the door, clearly terrified of what I might do next.
I watched as she hurried to the door, but before she could reach it, the door was flung open with a sudden force. Someone else stormed in, their presence cutting through the tension.
At the sight of her, my heart sank. It was like staring into a mirror of my past—the version of me I'd tried so hard to bury. The darkness, the person I was before all of this, before Jai, before the public image I'd built. Charlotte was a reminder of everything I'd tried to hide.
She walked into the room with an ease I couldn't shake off, her presence as familiar as it was unsettling. I didn't want to feel anything, but I did. She had a way of triggering old instincts, old habits, and I hated it.
"Hey, are you okay?" Her voice was as sweet as honey, dripping with an insincere sweetness I knew all too well. It was like she was trying to pull me back into a world I had left behind.
I forced my eyes to meet hers, but the bitterness in my throat made it hard to speak. "What are you doing here, Charlotte?" My voice came out dry, completely void of emotion, as though I had shut myself off from any connection. But the truth was, seeing her now felt like I was choking on my own past.
"My love," she cooed, stepping closer, her hands slipping around my waist like she had every right to be here. The way she did it, so easily, it felt like I hadn't changed at all. "I'm the new COO of Luther-Croft." She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, as if she belonged here.
And then, without warning, she pressed her lips to my cheek in a soft, lingering kiss. I felt the weight of it—the warmth, the familiarity, but also the discomfort. She still had that hold on me, even after all this time.
I felt a wave of frustration build in me, but I fought to keep it in check. "That lady," she muttered, nodding toward the door where Jai had just fled. "Who was she?"
"No one," I mumbled, pushing her away. The touch felt too familiar, too invasive. Why would my father make her the COO after everything she had done? She was the last person I wanted in control, the last person who should have been anywhere near this company.
Charlotte's eyes glinted as she leaned in, her gaze almost predatory. "I can see your emotions through your eyes, your beautiful blue eyes," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It felt plastic, hollow—just like her heart. She always knew how to twist everything into a lie, make it sound like affection when it was anything but.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the anger was bubbling up, threatening to spill over. "Leave her alone," I said, my voice low and serious, each word carrying the weight of a warning.
Charlotte rolled her eyes dismissively, and then let out a giggle—one of those high-pitched, fake laughs that only made my stomach turn. She acted like an overexcited child, but there was nothing innocent about it. She was a manipulator, always playing games with people's emotions, and it was exhausting to deal with.
"Let's talk about us," she said, her voice shifting into something more intimate, more dangerous. She stepped closer, ignoring the space I had tried to put between us, and I could feel the weight of her presence like a storm cloud in the room.