The plates arrived with quiet precision—grilled seabass, the skin crisped to a perfect gold for her; rare steak salad for him, lean and clean like someone still living by training regimens. No wine. Just a tall bottle of still water poured into glasses so clear they disappeared in the sunlight.
Lucas picked up his fork but didn't eat right away.
Xinyi Zhen, across from him, had already sliced a clean edge into the fish with the kind of control that only came from habit. She didn't talk as she cut. She didn't rush. She didn't perform.
She just existed in that small space like someone who'd already said more in rooms that mattered than most men would in their entire careers.
He took a breath and let himself look.
She wore control like a tailored dress. Understated jewelry. A navy tone that matched the press of her lips. Her cheekbones were high. Her lashes thick.
But what struck him most was her posture—perfect, effortless, untouchable.
She was his type. Exactly his type.
And maybe the most dangerous woman at his table since this entire mess began.
He picked up his knife. "Rhea told me you'd be...invaluable."
Xinyi didn't look up. "I usually am. But only when I decide to be."
Lucas gave a small laugh and took his first bite, letting the protein hit while she kept cutting through hers with quiet efficiency.
They ate in silence for the first few minutes, like diplomats, not friends. Lucas didn't rush it. He let her set the tempo.
When she finally spoke again, it wasn't to flatter him.
"You're sitting in your father's seat. But you haven't picked a direction yet."
Lucas chewed. Swallowed. "I'm trying to see who's already steering without permission."
"You think the board is a mutiny waiting to happen?"
"I think the board is a gallery of survivors. Everyone's betting on the next safe bet."
"And you're not that."
"No," he said simply. "I'm the test."
She smiled faintly. "You listen better than Cyrus ever did."
"Was that a compliment?"
"It was an observation. I don't make compliments until people earn them."
He nodded. "Then I won't ask for one."
ATHENA's voice flickered quietly in his ear."Subject's emotional resistance: intact. Testing boundaries. Loyalty not transactional—yet."
Lucas sipped his water. "You've worked for my father. You've inherited your family's empire. What do you want from this?"
Xinyi didn't answer right away. Instead, she finished cutting a small bite of seabass, placed her utensils neatly, and looked up with eyes that didn't blink.
"I was born into a legacy that didn't want me."
Lucas tilted his head, listening.
"My father had one job for me—be perfect until my brother was ready. I got top scores, graduated top of my class, won every debate, every negotiation. I was supposed to keep the seat warm. I wasn't supposed to inherit it."
Her voice stayed steady, but something behind her tone darkened.
"Then my brother died. Car accident in Milan. He was 27. They called it a loss of potential. I called it my sentence."
Lucas didn't speak. He just watched her.
"My uncles tried to take control. My mother cried in the boardroom. And I did what I was trained to do—burned them down one shareholder vote at a time."
She reached for her water glass and took a measured sip.
"Five years ago, Cyrus saw me rip out half my board's spine and offered me a job instead of flowers. Said I reminded him of someone. I took it."
Lucas set his silverware down.
"So again," he said softly. "What do you want from this?"
Xinyi smiled, faint but real.
"Legacy. On my terms."
Lucas leaned back, the chair creaking just slightly.
"I can't promise you that. Not yet."
"I don't expect you to," she replied. "I don't believe promises. I watch results."
He didn't argue.
Instead, he lifted his glass in a mock toast.
"Then wait and see."
ATHENA hummed in his ear."Emotional relevance high. Subject Zhen's loyalty: responsive to demonstrated power, not projected ambition. Recommend future shared initiatives."
Xinyi's smile grew a millimeter. "Careful, Lucas. I like men who know how to play long games."
Lucas chuckled low. "Then stay tuned."
They both stood—nothing casual about the movement—and walked side by side out of the restaurant, quiet as generals.
The next war room was only a few blocks away.
And Lucas knew—he hadn't won her loyalty.
But he had earned her attention.
And he knew enough not to press it.
Outside, the rain had started—a soft, silver drizzle that turned the sidewalk into mirrored glass. Lucas reached for an umbrella that the driver had laid out.
He flicked it open and stepped to her side without a word.
"Still raining in your world?" Xinyi asked with a slant of amusement in her voice.
"Only when I forget my umbrella," Lucas replied, holding it high and tilting it slightly toward her, enough to keep her heels and hem dry. "And apparently I've stopped forgetting."
Xinyi stepped in close, just enough to be under the canopy. The smell of fresh rain mixed with expensive perfume and city steel.
They didn't speak for the first few steps.
Lucas liked that.
So did she.
After a block, she murmured, "You're doing better than most."
"Most what?"
"Men who want to impress me."
He gave her a small, crooked grin. "I'm not trying to impress you. I'm trying to earn a board vote."
She tilted her chin. "Careful, Pan. That almost sounded humble."
"Trust me, I'm allergic."
The building entrance rose ahead—modern glass, sharp angles, and already bustling with security detail. A sleek black SUV pulled up just as they reached the steps.
Julius stepped out, flicking his coat back with all the subtlety of a man auditioning for a red carpet.
"Well, well, if it isn't the rain-proof power couple," he said, flashing a grin. "Xinyi, always a pleasure tpo met beautiful ladies. You make Lucas look like a man with manners."
Lucas handed off the umbrella to the valet and opened the door for her.
"Trying to keep up," he said under his breath.
Xinyi walked inside without a backward glance, but her smile was still faintly there.
Julius leaned in, dropping his voice. "That was smooth. You hold her umbrella, but she still owns the weather."
Lucas smirked. "Let's just get through HR."
"You mean the purge? Sure." Julius nodded toward the elevator. "Rhea's already inside. She's calling it 'surgical restructuring.' I'm calling it body count."
Lucas straightened his jacket and followed them in.
ATHENA's voice clicked into his ear."Social optics: improved. Subject Zhen's emotional response marked as intrigued. Proceed with strategic confidence."
The elevator doors closed.
And as they rose, Lucas knew—
Today wouldn't be about rain.
It would be about thunder.