Chapter 4 Threat

Devon's POV

I walked into the building like I owned it, because, technically, I could. The cold air, the glinting glass, the hush of money being made... it should've felt impressive.

But all I felt was her.

Taylor.

There she stood near the reception, arms crossed, every inch of her professional and poised. Her black suit hugged her frame like armor, and her hair was pulled back so tightly I couldn't tell if she was angry, anxious, or simply surviving.

I stopped for just a second. One second too long.

It hit me in the chest, how little she'd changed, and how much it still messed with me. I felt the lingering gaze of her blue eyes send shivers down my spine.

I replayed what had happened last night over and over in my mind, the way her hand jerked away the moment I reached for it. That cold, sharp recoil, like I'd touched a live wire.

It wasn't just a refusal. It was a message.

She didn't want me. Not anymore.

And no matter how much I tried to convince myself I'd get back on track, it just kept reopening old wounds. The truth hit me harder than I wanted to admit.

I'd broken something between us. Maybe more than once.

I remembered the way her eyes flickered, not surprise, not anger, but something colder, like disappointment. Like she was seeing the man I'd become and not liking the view.

It stung. God, it fucking stung.

Because beneath all this bravado, all the games and smirks, I felt a gnawing emptiness-a crack in the armor I'd spent years building.

I wasn't just facing the woman I loved and lost. I was facing myself and the wreckage I'd left behind.

And I didn't know how to fix any of it.

Then our gaze met. Immediately, she averted her gaze and looked back at me.

No reaction, no gasp. Just a brief flicker in her eyes like a shutter opening and slamming closed again. She was numb of emotions, and I could see her dead eyes trying to kill me right on the spot.

"Mr. West," one of the executives said, breaking the tension. "Welcome. We're so excited to have you on board."

I nodded, forcing a smile. "Looking forward to seeing how this place runs."

Taylor hadn't moved.

"As discussed," another executive said, "our PR team will handle your onboarding."

PR?

I glanced toward her again. Would I be working with her? What could go wrong?

I smiled anyway and walked toward her. Cameras clicked in the background. They were eating this up.

"Ms. Taylor," I said smoothly, offering my hand. "Congratulations. Looks like we'll be working together again."

She blinked. Just once.

Then her hand touched mine,brief, reluctant, cold.

Before she could respond, one of the bosses chuckled nervously. "Actually, uh, she's not the one assigned..."

I didn't look away from her. "I'm sure that'll change."

She stared up at me, her mouth opening like she wanted to say something real... but didn't.

Everyone muttered under their breath. What connection do we have together? Who is she? But let them wonder-she'd be known as mine soon.

–

Later - Conference Room

I walked into the room with everyone seated. I'd barely sat down when my phone buzzed.

It was Ivy.

I stepped out and answered. "What is it?"

Her voice shook. "I couldn't come today."

"Figured."

"I just... Devon, I don't know what this is. What are you doing?"

"Business," I shot back, emotionless.

"Don't give me that. Is this about her?"

My stomach turned.

"Did you plan this?" she asked, her voice rising. "All of this? Just to get close to Taylor again?"

"Mind your business," I snapped. "You're not even supposed to be part of this."

She laughed bitterly. "Right. Because you cut me out. The moment she came back into your world..."

"Enough." I hung up.

Back in the room, all eyes turned to me.

Taylor stood up as one of the seniors gestured to her. What the hell? Is she a damn puppet?

I spoke before she could. "Sit."

She hesitated. The room froze.

I said it again, firmer. "Sit down, Taylor."

She obeyed. Her boss looked like he'd swallowed something sharp.

"I'd like to say you guys got lucky. I could have been busy, but since..." I paused when I felt someone watching me. I took a glance at Taylor and continued, "...since the former collaborator dropped out at the last minute and I was scheduled to come next week, but look at where we are!"

I smiled, and everyone burst into laughter. Fake. They were all fake.

I looked directly at her. Let the moment drag.

"Unfortunate timing."

A few eyes darted between us. The tension was delicious...I would surely need a bin.

"Um... Mr. West, I'm Henry, the PR head, and I..."

"My father's West, not me. Try again," I said, adjusting my suit.

The PR head, Henry, cleared his throat. "We've assigned Ms. Rivera, one of our best employees, to assist..."

"No," I said flatly.

"What?"

"I want Taylor to be in charge," I replied, and her eyes widened.

"Who? Who's Taylor?" he asked nervously.

Creasing my brows, I glared. "The name you'll remember if you like keeping your job."

Our eyes locked again. She knew what I was doing. She also knew she couldn't stop it.

One of the executives exhaled like he'd been holding it in for minutes, like he'd had enough of my shit. "Actually... your mother... She asked us to give this project full support."

My jaw clenched. "Did she?"

"You're testing her company, right?" another exec said carefully. "And next week... your father's hotel."

I didn't respond.

They thought I was just choosing between companies. But this was never about business. It was about getting revenge.

My mother always said I had her instincts, cold, strategic, forward-thinking. She built her empire with glass smiles and sealed doors. Growing up, I watched her control entire rooms with a single look... and silence me with even less.

My father, on the other hand, ruled with charm. Hotels, hospitality, handshakes that smelled like cologne and old money. He smiled too much, talked too loud, and loved too little. But he knew how to win people..how to make them need him.

They both thought they'd raised a successor. What they didn't realize was they'd raised a revengeful son.

So now, I tested them, company by company. And the company I chose would win over the stock market. My billionaire friends and collaborators would be rampaging over the winning company.

My mother thought she'd already won. And my father... he was waiting, watching. Ready to welcome me with open arms when I rejected her. As if he hadn't walked out on everything years ago. As if love was something you could rebrand.

"I just want to confirm," the man continued. "Whoever you choose between them will get your backing, your network, your investors."

"Yes," I said. "That's correct." You could hear the scramble starting behind everyone's eyes.

Taylor glanced at me, something flickering across her face. Fear? Anger?

I didn't care. Not now.

Henry forced a smile. "Well then, Taylor, would you mind getting Mr. Devon some coffee?"

I didn't miss the insult hidden in that.

So I shot back, "No. I'd like you to get it for me."

Everyone gasped in the room.

Taylor blinked like she'd been slapped.

I looked around, mocking. "What? Did I stutter?"

"Everyone, get out! Henry, get my coffee, and you..." I stopped, and she also stopped in her tracks like she knew I'd called her.

After everyone had left, she turned around and forced a smile.

"Shall we start?" I said, standing up.

She didn't speak. Just turned to the window, arms crossed.

But I've had enough silence for one day.

"Are you going to pretend that never happened?" I said.

She didn't look at me. "You're a child."

"No," I said, stepping closer. "I'm a man who remembers exactly how this ended."

She turned sharply. "You mean how you ended it."

"You signed the divorce papers. You left. What's left?" she continued.

"Do you know what I hate? When you jump to conclusions so quickly! You didn't give me a chance to explain!"

She scoffed and replied, "A chance? When I left, what stopped you from coming to explain? Not one year, not two, but three years, Devon."

"I had no... choice!" I stuttered, trying to touch her shoulders, but she flinched.

"You had a choice. You always had a choice. And you chose silence."

"But you're getting revenge on me by staying away?"

Her eyes were wet, but her voice was steel. "You think this is revenge?"

I smiled. "Not yet."

"You walk in here with your camera-ready charm and your billionaire family name, and what? You think you can just shake everything, and I'll collapse?"

"No," I said. "I think you're already crumbling."

She stared at me like she hated me. Like she wanted to run. But then she'd had enough of my shit and started to walk away.

"Six months!" I said, my voice cracking.

I pulled a folder from my bag and dropped it on the table.

"You have to sign this. Just six months."

Slowly, she turned around and walked to the table, looking at the papers like they were poison.

"Why are you showing me this?" she asked.

I stepped closer. My voice dropped.

"I want you back. I need you in my life. Agree to this marriage contract, Taylor."

Biting her lip, she glared at me. "And why the fuck would you think I would accept this stupid agreement?"

"Because I know you're pregnant. And I know exactly why you will accept this? But first, who's the father? "

The blood drained from her face.

And for the first time that day-she didn't have a comeback.