Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins
Chapter 12
Manhattan, November 14, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
There’s a ritual in this house that Alex insists on following no matter what and that is to have breakfast together. No matter how angry we are at each other, breakfast together seems to be somewhat unavoidable. I don’t see why, though, he wakes up at sunrise and I two hours later. Yet, Maria told me he doesn’t take breakfast until he knows I will show up. I can only come to the conclusion that he’d rather see me in a bad mood than not see me at all. Plus, now that he has installed a glass wall and roof to cover the terrace, he doesn’t seem to miss one single breakfast there.
Reaching outside, the sunlight is already beaming on the glass wall, lightening up the entire place. Despite it being winter, today we are lucky; there’s a beautiful blue sky, and it seems like it’s gonna be warmer than usual.
My eyes land on the man sitting at the breakfast table, who is drinking his usual espresso, glasses on, and is focusing intently on his iPad. He shouldn’t look as good when I’m mad at him, yet I can’t help but sigh looking at him. Stop it! I mentally slap myself because we have to talk about his little escapade yesterday night and especially his meet-up with Amanda. So I clear my throat, smooth some hair to look more presentable and walk in his direction with a straight face. “Good morning,” I mumble as I pull my chair in front of him.
His gaze slowly goes up, his expression carrying no emotions whatsoever. Not even a freaking smile. Ouch. “Good morning,” he repeats with a nonchalant attitude, before his attention returns to his iPad and he keeps reading.
Fucking asshole.
Fortunately, Maria walks in with a beautiful smile and positive energy. “Good morning, Ms. Van Gatt,” she says with a bright tone. “Did you sleep well?”
I slept like shit until Alex got into bed in the middle of the night. “Yes, wonderful, thank you.” I do my best to match with her tone but fail miserably.
She lays down a plate in front of me with what seems to be an omelet accompanied by sun-dried tomatoes, spinach, and mushrooms, along with my daily green juice.
“Vegan eggs,” she adds, before I could ask. “Let me know if it’s good.”
While I cut a big bite of the omelette, I see Alex narrowing his eyes at my fork. “How can eggs be vegan?” he asks, confused. “Eggs come from chickens.”
Oh, look who’s talking to me now. Interesting how my omelet sparked his curiosity so easily. “It’s not real egg,” I explain. “It’s made of chickpea flour.” I put the bite in my mouth and say, “And it’s really good. You wanna try a bite?”
There is a glint of humor in his gaze, and I know exactly why—I asked the same question when I was eating that warm brownie at Galli last year.
“It’s not as good as that warm brownie though,” I tease. “But it’s good.”
Alex lets out a quick chuckle before asking, “How did you know I was thinking about it?”
“I know you,” I say softly. “Or, at least, I like to think I do.” As we look at each other, my heart starts fluttering like it was the very first time he laid his eyes on me. The air circulating around us intensifies, but we remain glued on each other. All of a sudden, Alex stands up and comes to sit beside me. We talk with eyes and smiles, and I cut another slice to give it to him. Once I put it in his mouth and he starts tasting it, I ask, “Is it that bad?”
After swallowing, he says, “It’s alright, but nothing will substitute real eggs.” I shake my head with amusement at his statement; I could’ve bet a fortune he would’ve said that.
“Maybe, but it’s cruelty-free. And this is the future.”
“Actually, this is more like the past,” he replies casually, causing me to crease my brows in confusion. “In a few years, thanks to gene editing, we’ll have nuggets, chicken wings, and eggs made in labs,” he explains. “In Singapore, there’s already a restaurant selling that stuff.”
“Selling what?” I ask for the sake of making him talk more. Alex is just like my dad, when they start a new fund to invest in a particular sector, it’s usually because they could spend all day long talking about it with incessant passion and enthusiasm.
“Nuggets made in labs that taste like chicken.”
“Have you tried it?” I keep asking, concealing my amusement as much as I can.
“Yep,” he answers with a smile.
“And?”
“And it does taste like chicken,” he says, but all I can think of is how bright his blue eyes are on the morning sunlight. “Our new fund in Singapore focuses in gene editing and molecular biology.”
“Oh…” I make it seem like I’m surprised, even though Dad told me about his BioTech fund countless times in the beginning of this year. Then thinking it through, and I ask, “So does that mean you gonna ditch the meat and go for the one made in lab?”
“Me? Not a chance,” he replies, and I take another bite of my fake eggs. “But once the price to produce meat in labs become cheaper than in a slaughterhouse, it’ll revolutionize the food industry.” There’s a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips, and I lick mine instinctively like I could taste them. “Which is why everyone wants a piece of the cake.”
While I love seeing him so excited as he talks about the company’s investments, I’ve got to face him and discuss something way more serious. “By the way, um, where were you last night?” I try to put on my most gentle tone so as not to create one more fight between us. “Maria told me you left home and came back only around midnight.” Bullshit—I simply heard the front door opening and closing when he left and when he came back, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I went to see Ryan,” he tells me, and he sounds rather honest. “He gave me the copy of the audio, and I spoke to him about the fifteen percent your dad intends to give you, if I do the same.”
Oh! My eyebrows raise in surprise that he actually thought about it more seriously. “And what did he advise you to do?”
His gaze drops for a moment as he ponders something through. Then he looks intently at me in the eye as if he’s about to start a painful revelation. “My mom voted my dad out of his own company when she found out about his bastard…” I wasn’t expecting him to be so open with me after our heated argument, but this is definitely a positive change. I perk up slightly as he continues. “And while I understand her side, this was a private matter that she decided to take public to take revenge on him.”
I nod, considering him and then ask, “So, you are afraid I’ll vote against you to get revenge if you do something wrong?”
“Yes,” he answers sincerely. “Which is why I went to see my attorney, and he advised us to do a partnership agreement with the conflicts of interests highlighted and voting clauses to protect me.”
“So that means you agree on that?” I ask, the excitement in my voice overly audible.
“If we do a partnership agreement and…” he lets his words trail off, before adding, “I have two more conditions.”
Two more? I frown at his request. “And what are they?”
“I want you on time for dinner and have your driver to drop you off wherever you need to go,” he demands. “He’s not your enemy, he is simply your driver.”
A chuckle rolls of my lips in total disbelief; of all the conditions he could’ve come up with, he thought the best ones were me being on time at our face-to-face dinners and to stop taking Ubers?
After pondering his request, I give him a big smile looking straight into his striking blue eyes. “Alright, sounds doable.”
“Do we have a deal, Ms. Van Gatt?” he asks, offering me his right hand.
“We have a deal.” And I shake it wholeheartedly.
* * *
Manhattan, November 16, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
As the wise Emma Hasenfratz once said, there are two things in the world I should always look after: my ass and my assets. Well, today I’m precisely looking after the latter as I get ready to go once more to the Gatt-Dieren headquarters for the partnership agreement and the transfer of ownership. With Joshua and Mike as members of the board, my dad can easily turn them against Alex in the future and vote him out. We got lucky that it didn’t happen yet, but it was close, very close, and that’s something I intend to never repeat ever again. Today I have decided to wear what I usually wore during my internship—a black blazer, a white shirt, and a pair of dark jeans. The only difference is that I switched the flats for a pair of ankle boots.
After stepping onto the fifty-seventh floor with Emma’s attorney—who is now also mine—the receptionist invites us into a bright meeting room where we’ll deal with my dad and Alex for the transfer. To my surprise, we are the first to arrive, which is definitely not usual. While Anna takes a seat at the glass table and puts herself at ease, my attention goes to the floor-to-ceiling windows which give an ample view of the tall buildings standing in front of us. I wander a few steps closer as I take in the view, but not too much for fear of getting vertigo.
“May I serve you something? Coffee, tea, water…” the receptionist asks us, interrupting my gawking.
“Just water is fine,” I hear Anna answering. “Petra? Do you want to drink something?”
“The same, please.”
The receptionist leaves the room with a polite smile, quietly closing the door behind her.
Amid the silence, Anna gets her files in order, while my eyes are glued on the window, watching the clouds slowly breaking for sunshine.
All of a sudden, I hear the door crack open and footsteps walking in. “My apologies for the delay.”
My lips twitch into a smile, and my heart pumps a little faster at the sound of that familiar, male voice. Turning around, my eyes graze upon my fiancé, sporting a fit white shirt, the fabric tighter on the arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and grey wool funnel pants. He looks delicious as ever. I watch as he shakes Anna’s hand, carrying his usual charming smile. Only then do I notice he’s accompanied by Ryan, my dad, and his attorney. Alex is the only one who’s ditched the tie and jacket, which I find quite amusing. Have my casual outfits inspired him to loosen it up a bit?
While Anna is greeting everyone else, Alex walks in my direction, his lips formed in a sexy twist, and his piercing blue eyes sparkle when they finally meet mine. “Ms. Van Gatt.”
His voice is warm but low and courteous; he also shakes my hand for the sake of politeness in front of our respective attorneys, and I do my best to contain a chuckle. I mean, it’s not like they don’t know we are together, but I guess he’ll only ditch the formalities when we’ll be wearing golden rings. So I play along and also greet him by his last name. “Mr. Van Dieren.”
It’s quite hard to contain the urge to greet him with a peck on his lips though, but I’m well aware that’s a big no for him.
Then I go and greet Ryan, followed by my dad and his lawyer. After some small talk to relax the ambiance, Anna invites us to have a seat while the receptionist is already placing a few bottles of Voss in front of each of us.
“Good morning everyone,” Anna begins as she looks at my dad, who is seated on one side of the table with his lawyer, and at Alex seated beside them with Ryan. “So, we are here today to formalize the transfer of fifteen percent of Gatt-Dieren LLC from Roy Van Gatt and an additional fifteen percent from Alexander Van Dieren to Petra Van Gatt, which means after the transfer you will all own thirty percent respectively.”
“That’s correct,” I answer on their behalf, concealing, as much as I can, my excitement.
“One thing,” my dad suddenly says. “I want to make sure I won’t be denied entrance at the wedding, so the transfer of my fifteen percent should only become effective starting on the sixth of December.”
Why am I not surprised by his intervention? Anna looks at me, wondering what I think of it. I turn and say, “Deal, but if you decide not to come, this clause is not valid.” I notice Anna typing into her iPad to add this clause to the partnership agreement. “From our side, you are welcome to join the wedding.”
“So it’s only the reasonable thing to suggest both percentages will be considered legally transferred on the sixth of December, right?” Ryan asks us.
“Correct,” I reply, knowing it won’t make much sense to apply such rule only to my dad. “But no board meetings until I have a vote,” I remind them, looking around the room at everyone.
“We won’t have another board meeting until January,” Dad informs. “So rest assured, you won’t miss it.”
“Alright, thanks.”
“Also, we have to discuss the voting clause that Alex introduced in the agreement,” my dad’s attorney steps in. And I knew this won’t go unnoticed. “While we understand it’s important to point out the conflict of interest, we want to make sure she can use her vote the way she wants without any repercussions.”
Before Anna can even open her mouth, Ryan quickly replies, “This clause isn’t here to prevent Petra to vote, it’s to make sure she isn’t voting based on private matters. Her vote must be diligently made and based on data and performance just like anyone else's.”
“This goes both ways, Roy,” Alex tells him. “She can’t vote you out either just because she’s mad at you.”
“We listed the valid reasons for voting someone out on page three,” Anna points out. “Did you both take a look already?” she asks to Ryan’s and my dad’s lawyer.
They quietly give another check at the list, before finally agreeing to it.
Once everything is said and done, Anna hands me her iPad and her digital pen. “Okay, so I need your signature here and here,” she says, pointing on the screen. After signing the contract, Anna hands it to my dad, who does the same and then to Alex, who also signs it.
Anna checks if the signatures are on every page she needs, and smiling, she says, “Very well, I’m sending a copy to each one of you.”
As the meeting seems to be finally over, I heave a sigh of relief for it to have gone so well and nearly as smoothly as planned.
Dad gives me a nod in acknowledgment, and before he can stand up, I give him a quick smile out of gratitude.
“I hope this will help you to see me differently,” he comments as he stands up from his seat.
See you differently? After everything you did to me? Not a chance! But instead, I say, “It does help, yeah.” If there’s one person I no longer trust it’s him, which is precisely why I needed to have a vote at the board.
Before my dad and his lawyer leave, Dad reaches over for an awkward hug. Then I shake Anna’s hand, and she also exits the room. And while Alex doesn’t seem to be in a rush, he escorts Ryan to the door, where they share a few more words, shake each other's hands longer than needed, and finally Ryan walks away.
My heart thumps in my chest as I watch Alex close and lock the door before pacing slowly back in my direction. A million scenarios began playing in my head, and I start cursing under my breath for not bringing a dress or a skirt. What an idiot! What a freaking idiot I am! I do my best to keep my composure and appear just as relaxed as before, but knowing he just locked the door and we are only the two of us in this meeting room isn’t helping.
“Happy?” he asks as he gets around the table to meet me.
“Quite happy, yeah,” I answer, keeping my tone nonchalant. “But mostly with you.” I shine my eyes up at him.
His brows raise up in surprise as he stands beside me. “Why?”
“Well, for trusting me as you did.” And as our eyes remain glued on each other, I mumble a soft, “Thank you.”
While I’m still seated on my chair, Alex goes and nestles himself behind me. I can feel his fingers now threading my hair, and the sensuality of his caress crackles the air with tension. Warmth spreads through me as he brings my locks of hair to the left side of my chest, leaving the back of my neck exposed. My lips part and I drag some precious air into my lungs, wondering what he is up to. His fingers start digging under my open collar and softly greasing my skin all the way down to cup my right breast. A quick gasp escapes me at my growing arousal, and I shut my eyes tight, yet I must’ve blushed a sharp shade of red at the touch of his hand fondling my tit. “I love it when you wear a shirt without a bra…”
Oh gosh! I had totally forgotten to wear one! Jeez, I hope no one else noticed. I mean, with the blazer beneath my shirt, I doubt anyone could see anything… “How did you know I wasn’t wearing one?”
“I didn’t until now,” he whispers, his lips hovering on my ear before he pulls my lobe into his mouth. My goodness! A rush of heat spreads through me, and my breathing deepens as I try to keep my posture straight. “You know what I was thinking during the whole meeting?” he asks, but I can’t bring myself to speak, so I just shake my head, waiting for him to proceed. His hand leaves my chest, only to go up and grab my neck, pulling it back so that he can look me in the eye. “How much I would love to fuck you here.” I can’t prevent the gap between my lips, nor the wetness coating my thong at his words. He’s filling my head with naughty thoughts, but what I truly want is him to turn them into reality. He then starts pinning warm kisses on my jawline with so much hunger and need that I moan. Oh gosh, it’s getting so warm in here… “I could push your pants down and bang you right against the table, what do you think?” His voice, husky and low, keeps taunting me even more with his damn questions, and his lips on my neck are not helping either. “Would you like that?”
The fluids between my thighs are drenching my thong, and I swear, if he doesn’t undress me pretty soon, I’m gonna have to do it myself.
Drowning in the intense air enveloping us, I manage to mumble a mere, “Yes,” before I can swallow the lump in my throat while my pleasure keeps rising at every word coming out of his mouth.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes,” I breathe louder, knowing he’s only doing it to tease me.
“Yes what?”
I can’t believe he’s forcing me to say the rest out loud, but he knows I’m desperate, so I throw all modesty out of the window, take a deep breath, and complete my sentence. “To push my pants down and bang me on the table.” Hearing myself saying those words out loud leaves me in a deep trance, making me lose my sanity.
“Great.” He then presses his lips on my head in quick kiss, and, to my greatest shock, starts walking away. “Don’t forget to be on time for dinner tonight. And maybe next time, I’ll do so.”
“What?” I blurt out, watching him unlock the door and step outside the room.
Fucking asshole! I can’t believe he’s leaving me like that! My cheeks are totally flushed, my body nearly sweating, and I’m still gasping for air! Argh…
Well, if this was his way to punish me for my tardiness, then, I must say, it’s the cruelest punishment I can think of.