Craving My Ruthless Ceo novel Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Predator Watching It’s Prey

Roman’s POV

Anna shifted uncomfortably beside me, before giving him a brief smile.

“Mr Beaumont, I’m very happy with my job.”

“Are you?” Laurent turned his full attention back to her. “Or are you just comfortable? There’s a difference, chérie. I see real potential. The kind that shouldn’t be wasted behind a desk.”

“Her potential is exactly where it needs to be,” I said through gritted teeth.

Laurent raised his hands in mock surrender. “I meant no disrespect. I’m simply saying that if she ever wants more.”

“She doesn’t.”

“Roman.” Anna’s hand touched my arm, and I could feel the tension radiating through her. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. Nothing about this was okay. The way Laurent’s eyes kept drifting to her body. The way he was trying to plant seeds of doubt. The way Anna was actually considering his words.

“You said your father was going to be present tonight,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level. “That he’d be ready to discuss the partnership.”

Laurent’s smile didn’t shift, but I caught the flash of annoyance in his eyes. “Of course. Business first, yes?”

He glanced at Anna one more time. “But do think about what I said, Anna. The offer is genuine.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

My hand found the small of her back, possessive and territorial. “Lead the way, Beaumont.”

Laurent gestured toward the far end of the ballroom. “Maison prefers quieter spaces these days. Age, you know. Follow me.”

We moved through the ballroom, and I kept Anna close to my side. Every step felt like walking through fire, Laurent’s words echoing in my head.

You’re wasting your potential as an assistant.

With your assets, you’d be our top choice.

My mind conjured images I didn’t want. Anna in lingerie, photographed by Laurent’s team. His eyes on her body. His hands adjusting the straps and fabric, touching her skin.

I forced the thoughts away, but the heat in my chest only intensified.

We passed through giant doors into a smaller, dimly lit room with round tables. At the center table sat a man

in his sixties. Silver hair, sharp eyes, an expensive suit. Two other men flanked him.

Maison Beaumont himself.

Laurent approached with easy familiarity. “Papa, I’ve brought our guest.”

Maison looked up, his eyes assessing me before a warm smile crossed his face. He stood and extended his hand.

“Mr Blackwood. Laurent has told me much about you.”

I shook his hand firmly. “Mr Beaumont, the honor is mine. Your work is extraordinary.”

“Please, call me Maison.” He gestured to the empty seats. “And I’ve heard the same about Blackwood Advertising. Quite the empire you’ve built.”

I grinned. “This is Anna,” I introduced, my hand still on her back. “My assistant.”

Maison’s eyes moved to Anna, respectful, unlike his son’s. “Enchanting.” He took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “A pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Anna replied.

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Chapter 51: Predator Watching It’s Prey

“Please, sit.”

I made sure Anna sat directly beside me, blocking Laurent from taking the seat next to her. He noticed, amusement flashing across his face as he sat across from us instead.

“I apologize for not being present at the last meeting,” Maison began. “Business in Paris. But I’m hoping Laurent represented our interests well.” He placed a hand on Laurent’s shoulder.

“He did,” I said, the words bitter on my tongue. “We discussed a potential partnership.”

Maison nodded. “Laurent mentioned some interesting ideas. A partnership benefiting both parties?”

“Exactly. Maison Beaumont is France’s premier luxury brand. But breaking into the American market requires visibility, strategic positioning, and a narrative that resonates with American consumers.”

“And Blackwood Advertising provides this?”

“We can make Maison Beaumont a household name. Billboards in every major city. Strategic partnerships with influencers and celebrities. Runway shows as media events. Digital campaigns reaching millions. Within a year, your brand will be everywhere.”

Maison’s eyebrows rose. “Confident words.”

“Backed by results.” I pulled out my phone, showing him previous campaigns. “Luxury cars, high-end watches, designer fragrances. Each saw a minimum forty percent increase in American market share within the first year.”

I slid the phone across the table. Maison studied the images, his expression unreadable.

Laurent leaned back, swirling his champagne. “I’m sure you two have much to discuss. Boring percentages and contracts.”

He turned to Anna with that smile I wanted to wipe off his face. “What do you say we leave them to it? Let me show you the bar. You look like you could use a real drink. And we can continue our conversation about the modeling opportunity.”

Fire shot through my veins.

“Laurent has been very enthusiastic about this project,” Maison said. “He believes in it wholeheartedly. But the final decision is mine.”

“Of course,” I managed, my voice strained.

“But the boy has a point,” Maison continued. “This will take time. No reason for your lovely assistant to sit through tedious details.”

Every instinct screamed at me to refuse. To keep Anna exactly where she was, away from Laurent’s predatory interest.

But I couldn’t. Not without looking unreasonable or possessive in front of a potential client.

I met Anna’s eyes. She gave me,a small, uncertain smile.

“Go ahead,” I heard myself say, each word like glass in my throat. “I’ll find you when we’re done.”

Laurent stood immediately, offering Anna his hand. She took it and rose from her seat.

“We won’t be long,” Laurent said, his eyes meeting mine with a knowing glint. “I promise to take good care of her.”

I watched them walk away. Laurent’s hand hovered near her back, not quite touching, but close enough to be territorial. His head tilted toward her, saying something that made her laugh.

That sound, her laugh, directed at him.

My hand gripped the armrest of my chair so hard I felt the wood creak.

“Now then,” Maison’s voice cut through the red haze clouding my vision. “Let’s discuss terms, shall we? We’re looking at a sixty-forty split on initial campaign costs.”

But I wasn’t listening. Not really.

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Chapter 51. Predator Watching It’s Prey

My eyes tracked Anna and Laurent across the room like a predator watching its prey being circled by a rival. Laurent pulled out a barstool for her with exaggerated chivalry, his fingers lingering on the back of it longer than necessary. Then he positioned his own stool far too close to hers. So close their knees were almost touching.

“With projections showing a return on investment within eighteen months,” Maison continued. “Of course, this depends on market reception and projected growth.”

Laurent leaned in, his mouth close to Anna’s ear, saying something. His hand gestured animatedly.

She laughed. That genuine, unguarded laugh I’d heard directed at me just an hour ago in the car.

My fingers dug harder into the armrest.

Laurent signaled the bartender and ordered something. Two glasses appeared, filled with amber liquid. Whiskey, probably. Or cognac.

He slid one toward Anna with that charming smile.

Don’t take it, I thought. Don’t you dare.

She took it.

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