Chapter 18: Walking Into His Trap
Summer’s POV
I followed him around the room, listening as he explained the signicance of various artworks. His knowledge was impressive, but what caught me all guard was his obvious passion for the subject. This wasn’t the cool, calculating CEO of Stark Group – this was someone who genuinely loved art and its history.
“You knew so much about all of this, I remarked as he finished explaining the historical context of a particularly valuable. culpture.
“Art tells us about more than just beauty,” he jeplied, his voice taking on that velvet–soft quality that made my skin prickle. “It tells us about desire, obsession, the lengths people will go in possess something Hey consider precious.”“
Why do I feel like we’re not just talking about art anymore? “That’s quite philosophical, Mr. Stark,”
Brandon’s eyes held that dangerous glint I was starting to recognize too well as he swept his hand across the private viewing room. “So, that piece? Or perhaps the Royal Collection chess set? I think they are both quite good.”
We were standing close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “Your grandfather would appreciate the historical significance of that piece,” he said softly. “But this piece has another interesting feature.”
‘Oh? My voice came out embarrassingly breathy.
Brandon’s lips curved into that dangerous half–smile. The artist paired it for the woman he loved. It’s said he spent months perfecting every detail, wanting to capture the exact way light fell across the hills near her home.”
The intensity in his dark eyes made my pulse race. “That’s… quite romantic,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Indeed.” His ey
eyes never left mine. “So, do you think that is a reasonable gift? No?”
I shook my head. “Mr. Stark,
“There’s more to see,” he cut me off smoothly, already moving toward another display. Okay, he must have known that I simply connor
afford them.
His gaze traveled around the room before suddenly stopping. “Perhaps this would be more suitable.”
I followed him to a display case, curious despite my better judgment. Inside sat what appeared to be a relatively simple fountain pen. The design was classic and elegant – exactly the kind of thing Grandpa George would appreciate. He’d always loved writing with fountain pens, claiming they gave his thoughts the proper weight on paper.
Finally, something that doesn’t look like it costs more than my apartme. I studied the pen more closely, admiring how the light caught its understated gold accents. The craftsmanship was clearly exceptional, but in a way that spoke of quality rather than
ostentation.
“This one,” I said firmly. “It’s perfect for Grandpa.”
“Have it wrapped for Miss Taylor. Brandon’s deep voice carried that cote of absolute authority that seemed to make everyone around him snap to attention
The manager hesitated. “This… um….
“Is there a problem?” I asked, my stomach sinking. Please don’t let it be astronomically expensive. I’ve already blown through so my savings moving out of the family mansion.
much of
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Chapter 18: Walking Into His Trap
“No, no!! The mannger’s smile looked sightly strained as his eyes dated between Brandon and me. If Mise Taylor like, I have It wrapped right away.”
I watched the staff handle the pen with almost reverent care, which did nothing to ease my growing mapleton about its true value, It’s fine. I’m an Executive Director at Fortune Cups. I can handle this. en If I had to eat Instant ramen for a month, Grandpa was worth it.
A familiar anxiety gnawed at my stomach the same feeling I’d had when signing the lease for my new apartment. Every major purchase now came with a mental calculation of how many extra boles I’d need to work, how many luxuries I’d need to cut hack on. Gone were the days when 1 could swipe the Taylor family coedit Card Hul ‘t this better? No strings attached, no obligations, no having to smile and nod while Victoria gets everything handed to her
“Manager,” I squared my shoulders, how much is the pen
silver plattet.
“Let Jannes handle the payment details. Brandon’s tone brooked no argument.
My protests died in my throat as he turned those dark eyes on me. Miss Taylor, after all my assistance today, perhaps you’d like to show your appreciation?”
Heat crept up my neck. Was this his plan all along? “I… I could treat Mr. Stark to dinner?”
The smile that curved his l
Invitation.
lips made my heart do a complicated gymnastics routine. I’d be delighted to accept Miss Taylor’s
But Mr. Stark, I haven’t paid yet! L protested weakly as he guided me toward the exit.
James materialized beside us with his usual cerle efficiency. “Miss Taylor, please go ahead with Mr. Stark. I’ll handle everything here and arrange delivery of your gift. You can pay the bill later. It’s all right.”
As Brandon led me out of Christie’s, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just walked into an expertly laid trap. Everything had happened so smoothly, like pieces moving across a chessboard according to some master plan.
I into the cool evening air. My mind was spinning Brandon’s hand at my elbow guided me through Christie’s elegant doors and into questions and suspicions, but something told me I wouldn’t get straight answers even if I asked.
with
He stopped so suddenly I nearly ran into his back. “What are you thinking?”
I stumbled slightly, catching myself just before colliding with his impossibly expensive suit. “I… where would Mr. Stark like to have dinner?”
His dark eyes studied my face with that intensity that never failed to make my pulse race. Something about his expression made me wonder if I’d just agreed to much more than a simple thank–you dinner.
What have I gotten myself into?
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