Chapter 11

Callum

Anticipation fills me for the upcoming celebration tonight. Amy, your friend, is indeed skilled in persuasion."

Observing her visage flush with a mix of anger and vexation, I discreetly departed, heading towards my office. A faint smirk lingered on my lips as I left her behind.

During the nightclub event just a week prior, my attendance had been for business purposes. The intention was a swift in-and-out affair. Not that I held any aversion to clubs, but given my standing, I detested the spotlight. An essential transaction was slated to occur that night, a venture that went astoundingly awry. The last thing anticipated was an intrusion during a pivotal meeting, particularly one that cast me in a malevolent light. Yet, Gianna Ruth made her entrance, and everything transformed.

The integrity of my reputation now hung precariously, with my entire business empire poised to crumble at the mere utterance of her revelations to the media. Employing logic, I chose to employ a veiled threat to dissuade her. My financial influence, albeit clandestine, bestowed me with an invaluable asset: a team adept at locating individuals with the faintest trace.

Naturally, I enlisted their talents to compile an extensive dossier on her. Unveiling her past proved rather uncomplicated. To a casual observer, perhaps less so, but anyone motivated to dig deeper could unearth the concealed chapters.

"Here are the files, sir," my dedicated assistant Rebecca informed me, handing over documents demanding my attention before day's end.

I acknowledged her assistance with a mumbled "Thank you" and accessed my office, a vast and contemporary space. Its impeccable organization was paramount for preserving my sanity.

Seated at my desk, I delved into the paperwork, endorsing essential documents and assessing potential clients.

Within the stack, a particular collection labeled "Program Applicants" caught my eye. I distinctly recalled entrusting my colleague Leo with the task of review and selection. Driven by curiosity concerning a specific attendee, I leafed through the papers.

Emblazoned at the top was the name "Gianna Ruth." I perused her application, swiftly scanning the listed address and her employment history. Flipping to the last page, I encountered her signature and a message etched below:

"Anticipating participation in the program and enthusiastic about learning under the esteemed Callum Black. His unblemished repute and impeccable track record are sources of honor. I eagerly await our inaugural meeting.

Sincerely,

Gianna Ruth."

A smirk of begrudging admiration tugged at my lips. She wielded this note as a weapon, cleverly concealing her intentions from Leo's obliviousness. Clenching the paper, I scrutinized the message, recalling her lack of surprise upon encountering me earlier. She had been ready, clearly more prepared than I had been. Regret settled in – I should have inspected my own records.

Summoning my personal assistant, Rebecca, through a quick phone call, I dictated, "Please clear my schedule for the remainder of the day. I am leaving." Dismissing any response, I hung up.

On my path to the awaiting vehicle, my mind was resolute on a singular subject: Gianna Ruth. Initially intended as a business transaction, she had encroached upon personal territory. The boundaries blurred, transforming us into participants of a cat-and-mouse engagement. The genesis of this game was a mystery, as was its ultimate resolution.

Upon reaching my apartment building, I ventured inside and ascended to my penthouse. With ample time before my next engagement, I sought solace in a shower, the cascade of water easing my thoughts.

Exiting the shower, the trill of my phone echoed across the apartment. Clad in a towel, I located my phone and answered without glancing at the caller ID.

"Hello."

"Callum, Jameson's matter has been addressed thoroughly," Leo, my loyal confidant, reported.

"Good. Maintain that status," I replied curtly.

His laughter reverberated. "Absolutely, boss. Are you still joining us tonight?"

"Why not? I wouldn't want to miss it," I retorted, lacing my response with sarcasm.

"Excellent. I'll relay the message to Amy that we're all set." With his affirmation, the call concluded.

My rationale for attending the event was simple: to provoke a reaction from her. Few things amused me more than Gianna Ruth's vexation. She was not oblivious to my enjoyment in pushing her buttons. The brewing tension between us was inexplicable, and I intended to exploit it to my advantage.

Prepared in casual attire, I reheated leftovers from the previous night for sustenance, saving precious time for other endeavors.

Around 9, recognizing the need to depart, I notified Leo of my imminent departure and summoned my driver.

Clubbing was an infrequent indulgence, far from a routine for me. I consciously limited my interactions with women at such venues, wary of the attention my presence invariably garnered.

Arriving at the club, I maintained a low profile as I approached the entrance. An affirmative nod granted me swift passage from the bouncer. I trailed a young woman, her red dress accentuating her figure. She abruptly halted and pivoted, but our collision was prevented by my reflexes.

"My apologies, I believed I dropped something," she stammered apologetically.

"No harm done," I began, catching her name, Celina. A smirk formed in response to her evident fascination.

As she ventured further into the establishment, I perceived her destination: a table where a redhead, Tatum, sat flanked by two companions. Our gazes intertwined, revealing Gianna Ruth's presence within the circle.

Well, well. Celina, it seemed, was acquainted with our elusive subject. My attention shifted to Gianna, who sported a darker ensemble that evening, accentuating her allure. A crimson lip highlighted her defiance, and her form-fitting black dress caught my attention.

A familiar urge stirred within me, promptly suppressed. The captivating pull she exerted was undeniable, dangerous even. My initial intention was professional; the lines blurred as emotions took root.

Gianna Ruth had dared to challenge me, to test my composure. Engaging in our power struggle was intoxicating, though I remained resolute in retaining control.

As Celina occupied the seat adjacent to Gianna, leaving an inviting void, I couldn't help but appreciate the opportunity presented.

Stepping behind her, I caught a whiff of her pleasant fragrance, an unspoken temptation. My mind wavered on the precipice between duty and desire.

She was undeniably alluring, and her persistent opposition both incited and frustrated me. With emotions teetering on the edge, I lingered, a shadow behind her, aware of the thin line between pleasure and professionalism.