Very Well
Gigi walked forward as she adjusted her coat. Her hair stood on end from the cold, but she didn’t let it show. Occasionally, she threw a seductive smile at the man sitting across from her.
It did nothing to him.
Which made her wonder—what does he want?
Men would easily call for her. They always did. But Lucious Davenport?
Not even a glance.
He sat there, his fingers tapping against the wooden desk, his eyes unreadable. The dim light above flickered, barely illuminating the room.
Gigi exhaled, stepping forward. “I don’t have all night.”
Lucious finally looked up. His face was sharp, aged, but still carrying an air of power. He wasn’t attractive—not even close. But his wealth and influence made up for it.
“You’re impatient,” he said, voice low and almost mocking.
“I’m efficient,” she corrected, sliding into the chair across from him. “Now, tell me. What exactly do you want from me?”
Lucious smirked. “You came to me, Gigi. Don’t act like you’re the one holding the cards here.”
Gigi clenched her teeth but forced a smile. “I came because we want the same thing.”
He arched a brow. “Do we?”
She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk. “You want the Vaughns ruined. I want Rowan back. That woman—Remi—is in the way of both of those things.”
Lucious studied her for a moment before chuckling. “You think getting rid of Remi will bring Rowan back to you?”
Gigi’s fingers dug into the desk. “He belongs to me. He always has.”
Lucious shook his head. “You sound delusional.”
Her nostrils flared. “You don’t understand. The Vaughns were my lifeline. My family is nothing now. If I lose Rowan, I lose everything.”
Lucious exhaled, leaning back in his chair. “Then let’s cut to the point. What exactly do you want from me?”
Gigi’s lips curled. “I want Remi gone. I don’t care how. Frame her. Destroy her reputation. Make Rowan despise her. I need her out of his life.”
Lucious tilted his head. “And what do I get in return?”
Gigi crossed her legs, giving him a slow, knowing smile. “Name your price.”
Lucious’s smirk deepened.
Then—
He stood, walking around the desk, stopping just beside her chair.
Gigi froze.
She could feel him there, his presence heavy, unnerving.
Then his voice, low, amused.
“You want my help?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
Lucious leaned down, his breath hot against her ear.
“Then get on your knees.”
Gigi’s stomach turned.
Her fingers curled into fists on her lap.
She wanted to vomit.
But—
She forced a smile.
Because she had no other choice.
She smiled, tilting her head just slightly—just enough to mask the way her stomach twisted.
Gigi had done worse.
Had endured worse.
And if she wanted Rowan back, if she wanted Remi gone, she had to do this.
So she turned in her chair, the scrape of the wooden legs against the floor cutting through the heavy silence. Lucious watched her, his smirk widening as she slid to her knees, the expensive rug rough beneath her palms.
He made no move to touch her. No urgency. No desire.
Just expectation.
That was the worst part—he wasn’t even enjoying this.
She wasn’t sure if that made it easier or worse.
“Go on,” Lucious said, his voice edged with amusement, as if he were daring her to back out.
Gigi lifted her hands, unfastening his belt with practiced ease. She wouldn’t let her hands shake. She wouldn’t hesitate. Hesitation was weakness.
And she refused to be weak.
The buckle clinked. The zipper followed. She barely had time to steel herself before he was exposed, thick and hard despite his unreadable expression.
She swallowed.
Then she leaned in.
She knew how to play the part. She could moan, she could pretend. Could make him believe this was exactly what she wanted, what she craved.
Lucious let out a breath as she took him into her mouth, her tongue gliding along his length. He didn’t grip her hair. Didn’t push her. Just sat there, watching.
She hated it.
Hated how clinical he made it feel.
So she performed.
She moaned, hollow and fake, took him deeper, her hands gripping his thighs as she bobbed her head, her tongue flicking just the way she knew men liked.
Lucious exhaled again, tilting his head slightly.
Minutes stretched.
Her jaw ached.
Her throat burned.
She wanted it to be over.
And then, finally—
Lucious’s breath hitched. His fingers twitched on the desk.
He came, hot and bitter down her throat.
Gigi swallowed it. Every drop.
Because she had no other choice.
She sat back, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, her face blank.
Lucious tucked himself away, fastening his belt. He looked down at her, that same smirk still in place.
Then, he reached into his desk drawer.
Pulled out his seal.
And placed it in her hand.
"You're efficient," he mused. "I'll give you that."
Gigi clenched the seal between her fingers, forcing another smile.
She stood, adjusting her coat, and turned for the door.
Lucious didn't stop her.
Didn't say another word.
She walked out of his office, her steps steady. The second the door clicked shut behind her, she quickened her pace, heels echoing against the marble floor.
The hallway was dim, empty.
She kept walking.
Kept swallowing.
Until she couldn’t anymore.
Her stomach clenched.
Her throat tightened.
Gigi barely made it to the nearest bathroom before she gagged, choking as everything came back up.
The acid burned, tears stinging her eyes. She gripped the edges of the sink, her knuckles white.
The seal sat on the counter beside her.
Proof of what she’d done.
What she’d given.
For Rowan.
For revenge.
She wiped her mouth, exhaling shakily.
Then she straightened.
Looked at herself in the mirror.
And smiled.
Because this was just the beginning. She would do anything for power.
***
Remi’s POV
I checked my watch.
Two hours into the meeting, and I was already exhausted.
The investors were discussing projections, numbers, and clinical trials, but my mind was elsewhere.
I was focused—I had to be. The research facility was everything I had built, and I wasn’t about to let distractions pull me away.
But after last night’s threats…
I was barely holding it together.
“Dr. Laurent?” one of the investors called.
I blinked, sitting up straighter. “Yes?”
The woman smiled. “I was saying—the latest batch of results shows promising progress. With additional funding, we could accelerate phase two of the trials.”
I nodded. “That’s good news.”
Another investor, a man in his sixties, leaned forward. “But we need guarantees, Dr. Laurent. Your work is groundbreaking, but it’s risky. Investors want security.”
I exhaled. “I understand that. But breakthroughs in medicine don’t happen without risk.”
He nodded slowly, considering my words.
Before he could say anything else, Jo nudged my arm, whispering, “Your two o’clock is waiting.”
Right.
Claire.
I needed to see her.
I cleared my throat. “Let’s reconvene tomorrow. I’ll personally go over the trial data and provide updates.”
The investors
exchanged glances before agreeing.
I stood, smoothing my coat, and walked out of the meeting room, Jo right behind me.
“You okay?” she asked.
I gave her a tight smile. “I’m fine.”
She didn’t believe me.
I didn’t believe me either.
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