Chapter 2 The First Meeting

Riven Dax walked briskly through the polished halls of Dax Holdings. His tall frame moved with quiet authority, black suit sharp against the glass walls that lined the corridor. The staff he passed bowed their heads quickly, sensing his focus and choosing not to interrupt.

But inside his mind, focus was the last thing he felt.

He could still see her in fragments - flashes of skin under dim blue lights, long dark hair spilling across white sheets. Her bare back turned toward him as he buttoned his shirt and left. The curve of her waist, the soft rise of her breathing as she slept.

No face. Just shadows and broken images that refused to fit together.

Riven clenched his jaw slightly, pushing open the boardroom door and stepping into his office floor. His memory picked at itself, trying to fill the gap after he left his apartment yesterday evening. He remembered an urgent investor meeting being rescheduled last minute, an address sent to him by his team.

Then darkness. Like someone sliced the memory clean from his mind.

He walked down the hall, thoughts cold and clinical.

I can't afford a scandal. Not now. Not when everything I've built is on the edge of global expansion.

His fingers curled tighter around his leather portfolio. The taste of that night still lingered in his chest - a bitter sweetness he couldn't shake off. He didn't like not knowing. Riven always knew everything. He always controlled everything.

And now, there was a missing night. A woman whose name he didn't know. A mistake he never would have made if he had been fully aware.

Whoever she was, he told himself, she will not ruin me.

As he neared his office, his secretary stood waiting outside, tablet held to her chest.

"Mr. Dax," she said softly. " Miss Selene is waiting for you in your office."

Riven paused, sighing under his breath. "Why didn't she call me?"

The secretary lowered her eyes. "She said she would wait."

He nodded curtly and pushed open the heavy glass door. Inside, sunlight poured over his sleek black desk, where Selene sat gracefully on the guest chair, legs crossed, a faint smile touching her lips.

"Riven," she greeted warmly. "Busy as always."

"Selene." He set down his portfolio and unbuttoned his suit jacket, settling into his chair with practiced calm. "What brings you here without notice today?"

She laughed softly. "I was in the area for a keynote and thought I'd check on you. It's been weeks since we had a proper conversation."

Her voice was warm, cultured. Her long hair was pulled back into a neat twist, and her ivory suit was tailored to perfection. She looked exactly how his mother always described her: composed, brilliant, flawless.

Riven watched her with quiet detachment. He knew Selene was completing her second PhD, this time in economics and law. She was the daughter of Marcus Vaughn, his mother's closest friend and longtime ally. Growing up, Selene spent every summer with the Dax family, attending etiquette classes, sailing lessons, and piano recitals.

His mother still spoke about her with glowing praise. "Selene is your future, Riven. She will stand beside you perfectly."

But as Selene spoke about her conference and upcoming publications, Riven found himself distracted again. The memory of last night pressed against his mind like a bruise he couldn't ignore.

Selene noticed his distant expression but didn't ask. She never asked things she knew he wouldn't answer.

"I know you're busy," she said, standing smoothly. "But dinner this weekend? It's been far too long."

Riven nodded automatically. "Of course. I'll have my office confirm."

Her smile softened. "I look forward to it."

But as he watched her leave, tall and graceful, he already felt the heavy boredom settle in his chest. He knew he would go. He knew he would pay for the dinner, listen politely, nod at all the right times. But enjoy it?

No. That wasn't something he expected anymore.

As the office door closed behind Selene, his assistant entered swiftly. Julius – loyal, sharp, and always anticipating the questions before Riven voiced them.

"Sir," Julius began, tablet in hand. "I have preliminary updates on last night."

Riven leaned back in his chair, dark eyes narrowing. "Go on."

"The meeting with Mr. Han was redirected at the last minute to Club Altere. Reservation was made under the company account, but... the room was booked privately."

Riven's fingers drummed slowly on the armrest. "Footage?"

"No cameras allowed in private suites. But we have hallway footage showing you entering around 7:40pm. You left just after midnight."

Riven's jaw tightened. "And inside the room?"

Julius shook his head. "No footage. But there was no sign of struggle or security alerts."

Silence filled the office, humming coldly between them.

"Someone drugged me," Riven said finally, his voice low and calm. "I don't remember a thing. I want every detail, Julius. Who booked the room, how I got there, and who she is."

Julius nodded quickly. "Understood."

Riven's gaze darkened, his mind already slicing through possible threats. This is sabotage. Or blackmail. Or worse. His company had just finalised the acquisition that positioned them as the leading global luxury real estate empire. His enemies were many. His mother's expectations were crushing.

"I won't let this become a headline," he said coldly. "Not now. Not ever."

Later on, Julius cleared his throat softly, looking at his tablet.

"We traced the booking details. The room was reserved under the name Vela Marquette."

Riven frowned slightly. The name felt distant, unfamiliar.

"Who is she?" he asked.

"Her mother runs a mid-tier fashion brand. Daughter is a rising influence in local circles. Twenty-one, unmarried, lives in the city. I have her address and number ready."

Riven sat silently for a moment, staring out at the New York skyline beyond his window. The late morning sun glinted off towers of glass and steel, cold and bright.

"Schedule a meeting with her," he ordered. "Today. In a restaurant, VVIP only. No leaks, no assumptions. I want to hear her version myself."

"Yes, sir," Julius replied, bowing slightly before leaving the office.

Riven leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The woman from last night flashed through his mind again - long hair, soft skin, warmth under his hands. He opened his eyes, the memory gone like smoke.

His expression hardened. No one uses him. No one.