Chapitre 4: CHAPTER FOUR; Distracted
Rose stared down at the stack of financial reports on her desk, her brow creased in deep concentration. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to focus on the figures and projections that were normally second nature to her. Her mind kept drifting, dwelling on the memory of that feverish encounter with Laurent in the IT department just a few nights prior.
She shuddered, warmth pooling low in her belly as she recalled the searing heat of his calloused hands on her skin, the way his mouth had worshiped her body with a primal hunger that had left her utterly undone. Even now, she could still feel the ghostly imprint of his touch, could almost taste the smoky, spiced essence that was uniquely Laurent.
Rose groaned softly, burying her face in her hands. What had she done? How could she have let herself be so completely unraveled by this man - this employee who should have been beneath her notice? The risk to her reputation, her family's legacy, was unthinkable.
A nagging sense of guilt and shame continued to plague her. Losing control like that, succumbing to her basest urges, went against every lesson she had ever learned. Rose prided herself on her poise, her unwavering propriety - the very hallmarks of the Blackwell name. And yet, in Laurent's presence, all of that had crumbled like so much ash.
A discreet knock at her office door drew her from her spiraling thoughts. Taking a steadying breath, she called out, "Come in."
The door swung open, and Rose felt her pulse quicken as Laurent stepped inside, his amber eyes immediately locking with hers. "Miss Blackwell," he murmured, the low timbre of his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
Rose swallowed hard, willing her racing heart to slow. "No, not at all. Please, have a seat." She gestured to the chairs in front of her desk, praying her voice sounded more composed than she felt.
Laurent inclined his head, that infuriating half-smile playing on his lips as he settled into one of the chairs. "I wanted to check in and see how you were doing. I noticed you seemed a bit...distracted, during our budget meeting earlier."
Rose felt a flush creep up her neck. Of course he had noticed - Laurent seemed to have an uncanny ability to read her every thought and emotion. "I, um...I've just had a lot on my mind lately," she admitted, wincing inwardly at how weak she sounded.
"I see." Laurent leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "Is everything alright, Miss Blackwell? If there's anything I can do to help lighten your workload, please don't hesitate to let me know."
Rose blinked, caught off guard by his earnest concern. "That's...that's very kind of you, Laurent. But I assure you, I'm fine." She forced a smile, silently urging him to drop the subject.
But Laurent seemed undeterred. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here." His eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "You know, outside of our professional relationship."
Rose felt her cheeks burning as the memory of their tryst resurfaced. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Thank you, I appreciate the offer. But really, I'm fine."
Laurent nodded, his expression sobering. "Of course. I wouldn't want to overstep any boundaries." He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Although, there is one other matter I wanted to discuss with you."
Rose steeled herself, unsure of what was to come. "Go on."
"It's about your father." Laurent leaned back in his chair, his gaze sympathetic. "I'm...I'm concerned about him, Rose. He seemed a bit distracted and off during the meeting, and I couldn't help but notice that he's been looking more tired lately."
Rose felt a flutter of worry in her chest. "You...you noticed that too?" She chewed her lip anxiously. "I've been worried about him, but he insists he's fine. He won't even talk to me about it."
Laurent reached across the desk, covering her hand with his own in a gesture of comfort. Rose tried to ignore the spark of electricity that shot through her at his touch. "I'm sure he's just trying to spare you from worrying," he murmured. "Your father is a proud man - he probably doesn't want you to see him as anything less than invincible."
Rose sighed, her fingers curling around his. "That sounds exactly like him." She lifted her gaze to meet his, a flicker of vulnerability flashing in her eyes. "I just wish he would let me help. I hate feeling so...so powerless."
"I understand." Laurent's thumb brushed gently over her knuckles, his expression earnest. "Which is why I wanted to speak with you about this. Your father confided in me earlier, you see - he's concerned about the future of the company, and he's worried that his health may be in decline."
Rose felt her heart drop. "What? Why didn't he say anything to me?"
"He didn't want to worry you, from what I gathered." Laurent squeezed her hand reassuringly. "But he did mention that he's been considering grooming you to eventually take over Blackwell Industries."
Rose blinked, stunned. "Me? Take over the company?" She shook her head in disbelief. "But I...I don't know the first thing about running a business of this scale. I'm not ready for that kind of responsibility."
"That's why your father asked me to help," Laurent said softly. "He wants me to mentor you, to help prepare you for the role he envisions you taking on." His gaze locked with hers, molten intensity smoldering in their depths. "He trusts me to guide you, Rose. To ensure that the Blackwell legacy remains in capable hands."
Rose felt a lump rise in her throat, a mix of pride and trepidation swirling within her. "I...I don't know what to say. This is all so sudden." She studied Laurent's face, searching for any hint of deception. "Are you sure my father told you all of this?"
"I assure you, every word is true." Laurent gave her hand another gentle squeeze. "Your father is quite fond of you, Rose. He wants to make sure you're ready to step into his shoes when the time comes."
Rose swallowed hard, her mind racing. The idea of leading Blackwell Industries was both exhilarating and terrifying. And the thought of her father's health being in decline only compounded her worry. "I...I need some time to process all of this," she murmured.
"Of course." Laurent offered her an understanding smile. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, whenever you're ready to discuss things further." He reluctantly withdrew his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin.
As Laurent made his way to the door, Rose called out, "Laurent?" He paused, turning back to her. "Thank you. For bringing this to my attention, and for...for being there for me."
Laurent inclined his head, a hint of something indecipherable flashing in his eyes. "Always, my Rose." With that, he slipped out of the office, leaving Rose alone with a whirlwind of emotions.
Once the door had closed, Laurent allowed a small, triumphant smile to tug at the corners of his lips. Wendell Blackwell had played right into his hands, entrusting him with the keys to the kingdom. And with Rose's naive trust in him, the destruction of the Blackwell legacy would be all the sweeter.
He recalled the way her delicate features had flushed with vulnerability, how her slender fingers had clung to his hand...it had been a heady sight to behold. So artlessly vulnerable, so desperate for guidance and reassurance. She was likely innocent, a virgin perhaps. But that was good, uncomfortable but good. He adjusted his trousers discreetly.
Rose was the perfect pawn - naive, trusting, and above all, desperate to prove herself worthy of the Blackwell legacy. And with Wendell's stamp of approval, Laurent now had free rein to mold her into the ideal instrument of his revenge.
He chuckled softly, the sound low and devoid of any true mirth. The irony was almost too delicious. Here was the heiress to a vast corporate empire, completely unaware that the man she was coming to rely on was methodically tightening the noose around her neck.
Laurent knew he should feel some modicum of guilt or remorse for the pain he was about to inflict. After all, Rose was not his ultimate target - Wendell Blackwell was. And the young woman, for all her privilege and status, was still an innocent caught in the crossfire of his grand scheme.
But as he recalled the scorching heat of her body beneath his calloused hands, the needy little sounds she had made as he explored every inch of her, any faint stirrings of compassion were quickly extinguished. Rose had awakened something primal and all-consuming within him - a hunger that could only be sated through complete domination and possession.
In the end, she would be just another casualty in Laurent's crusade for vengeance. The Blackwell legacy would crumble, and the spoils would be his for the taking. Perhaps he would even grant Rose a modicum of mercy, allowing her a glimpse of what she had lost before he destroyed her utterly.
A low, rumbling chuckle escaped his lips as he stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind him. Yes, he would savor every moment of this. The careful seduction, the systematic dismantling of the Blackwell empire...it would all be so deliciously worth it in the end.
As the elevator ascended, Laurent allowed his gaze to drift toward the gleaming mirrored walls, appraising his own rugged features. There was a predatory edge to his expression, a steely glint in his amber eyes that promised untold darkness.
This was the face of a man who had known only deprivation and suffering, who had clawed his way up from the gutter through sheer force of will and an unquenchable thirst for retribution. The face of someone who would stop at nothing to see his enemies reduced to ash.
And soon, the Blackwells would learn that hard, painful lesson. Wendell, Rose...they would all pay the ultimate price for their gilded privilege. Laurent would see to that, no matter the cost.
With a soft chime, the elevator doors slid open, and Laurent strode out into the bustling activity of the executive floors. Donning a mask of professional detachment, he made his way back to his own office, already running through the next phase of his meticulously crafted plan.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone