A pause—measured, deliberate.
Then VanDeVere turned.
He was immaculate, as always.Not merely well-dressed, butprecise—cravat tied with mathematical perfection, coat cut to emphasize the authority in his frame, silver-tinged hair brushed back as though not even a single strand would dare rebel.
His eyes, however, were what had made grown men go silent in committee rooms for decades.
Dark.Assessing.Unflinching.
Nicholas had been trained under that gaze the way a dog was trained under a whistle.
“You’re late,” VanDeVere observed.
“I came as soon as I received your message.”
VanDeVere’s mouth twitched, the nearest thing to a smile he ever allowed when he thought he was about to win.“So you did.”
Nicholas waited.
VanDeVere crossed to the sideboard, lifted the decanter, and poured two glasses of brandy.He handed one to Nicholas as if bestowing a prize.
Nicholas accepted, because refusing would make a point.And points were dangerous in his father’s company.
VanDeVere gestured toward the chair opposite the desk.
Nicholas sat.
VanDeVere remained standing.Always.As though sitting were an indulgence meant for lesser men.
“I had a visit tonight,” VanDeVere said.
Nicholas kept his expression still.“From Winston?”
“Yes.”
So Winston had gone from Archer House to VanDeVere House, like a man checking on a transaction.Nicholas’s jaw tightened, but he took a slow sip of brandy to hide his irritation.
VanDeVere studied him over the rim of his glass.“You’re surprised?”
Nicholas shrugged.“I didn’t anticipate Winston moving so quickly,” he replied carefully.
VanDeVere’s eyes sharpened.“You didn’t anticipate it because you’ve grown complacent with Winston.That ends now.”
Nicholas’s fingers tightened around the glass.“I see.”Vague words were most effective with his father.
“Do you?”VanDeVere’s tone stayed mild, but the air changed—pressure increasing by degrees.“Winston has been losing patience.With his daughter.With the cartoons.With the threat of appearing”—his lip curled faintly—“indecisive.”
Nicholas did not react at the mention of B.Adroit.
He did not react because reacting would reveal he cared.
And Nicholas Archer did not reveal what he cared about.Not here.
VanDeVere paced once behind the desk, slow as a cat stalking a rat.“Winston believes the reform bill will be pushed forward sooner than expected.”
Nicholas’s stomach gave the faintest twist.
“It’s scheduled—” Nicholas began.
