Chapter 1065: Trophy

Chapter 1065 – Trophy

Hugo saw his sister’s expression, but unlike Elise, his expression brightened.

A little too much.

Because to him, this was perfect.

Wonderful, even.

A direct communication line through Maribelle?

Beautiful.

Hugo Delacour was not the sort of man who fell for a woman because she insulted his attention span, denied him access to her tablet, and looked like she could restructure his ego into installments.

That would be pathetic.

And yet...

His eyes slid to her again.

Maribelle stood beside Celeste, back straight, tablet tucked against her arm, pen between her fingers like a dagger dressed as stationery. Her uniform was too neat. Her gaze too calm. Her mouth too sharp.

She was not like the women Hugo usually entertained.

Those women were easy.

Pretty faces. Nice bodies. Soft laughs. Expensive tastes. Clingy hands. They wanted handbags, vacations, jewelry, private rooms, selfies in places other people could not enter. They liked his money, his name, his access. They became decorative fast, then annoying faster.

Trophies that kept asking for maintenance fees.

Maribelle did not look like a trophy.

She looked like the auditor sent to repossess the trophy cabinet.

And somehow, horrifyingly, that made Hugo curious.

Or interested.

Or both.

Maybe this kind of woman was what he needed.

Someone sharp.

Someone who would not cling.

Someone who might stab his nonsense before it became habit.

Hugo straightened. "Yes," he said, a little too brightly. "Let’s do it that way!"

Everyone turned to him.

The room paused.

Hugo realized, one heartbeat too late, that his voice had exited his body with the enthusiasm of a man volunteering for marriage disguised as document submission.

He cleared his throat. "I mean, yes." He adjusted his cuff with forced dignity. "That’s the proper way."

Elise stared at him.

Her eyes said ’Idiot’.

Hugo’s eyes answered ’Hypocrite’.

Elise smiled sweetly, then turned back to Lux. "Mr. Vaelthorn is here," she said. "Why do we need to communicate through his secretary?"

Maribelle’s smile remained pleasant.

Elise continued, "Just discuss it directly. He is right here."

"I’m here," Lux said, "but not for business."

Elise tilted her head. "A man like you is always business, isn’t he?"

Lux smiled.

Dark.

Slow.

Confident enough to make the air behave.

"Usually."

Then he shifted.

Just slightly.

His hand moved from the armrest and settled on Naomi’s thigh.

Not high.

Not vulgar.

But unmistakable.

Warm palm over the fabric of her dress, fingers relaxed, thumb resting with casual possession.

Naomi’s breath changed. Her eyes lowered for a second to his hand, then lifted again, cheeks holding the faintest heat. She did not move his hand away.

Lux’s gaze remained on Elise. "Today, I’m here for my girl."

The sentence entered the room like a velvet knife.

Elise’s smile tightened.

Naomi’s spine softened by one careful degree, and at the same time, her gaze sharpened toward Elise.

A statement.

Lux did not need to pull Naomi closer or kiss her in front of them. He simply placed his hand there, steady and unashamed, and the meaning filled the sitting room.

Mine.

Chosen.

Not for negotiation.

Hugo’s brows rose.

Victor’s eyes narrowed.

Adrian’s jaw tightened, because fatherhood objected on principle, but he also saw Elise’s expression and, disturbingly, understood Lux’s move.

Celeste took a slow sip of tea. Her headache became more expensive.

Elise laughed softly. "How romantic."

"It is," Naomi said.

Elise looked at her.

Naomi smiled.

Lux’s thumb moved once over Naomi’s thigh.

Naomi’s lips pressed together for half a second.

Elise noticed that too. And envy, that elegant little poison, warmed under her ribs again.

It was not the hand alone.

It was Naomi’s reaction.

The comfort.

The trust.

The way Lux’s touch did not make her smaller. Somehow, it made her more present.

Elise wanted that.

No.

She wanted him. She wanted to prove she could have him.

Better.

More accurately phrased.

Lux Vaelthorn would be an exquisite trophy. Not because he was merely handsome, though heaven, hell, and every corrupt market index agreed that he was. But because Naomi had him. Because Naomi, the quiet Delacour heiress, had somehow acquired the attention of a man who looked at empires as hobbies and cats as urgent dependents.

Taking him would mean something.

It would mean Naomi’s precious choice was not so special.

It would mean Elise could win.

Elise leaned forward, crossing one leg over the other. "Still, even personal relationships benefit from good alliances."

Lux’s eyes slid to her legs, then immediately back to her face.

Not taking bait.

That irritated her.

Naomi saw that too, and her smile warmed with quiet victory.

Hugo, meanwhile, leaned slightly toward Maribelle. "So," he said, "if we send a proposal through you, do we arrange a meeting?"

Maribelle looked at him. "You submit the proposal first. I evaluate whether it deserves to exist."

Hugo’s mouth curved. "Harsh."

"Merciful. Some documents suffer when allowed to continue."

Lux made a low sound of approval. "Good line."

Maribelle inclined her head. "Thank you, boss."

Hugo watched her with open interest now.

Elise noticed and shot him a look. "What are you doing?"

Hugo blinked. "Discussing proper business procedure."

"You look too happy about paperwork."

"And you look too interested in bypassing paperwork."

Elise’s smile sharpened. "Because I prefer efficiency."

"No," Hugo said, leaning back with a smirk. "You prefer Mr. Vaelthorn."

The room went silent.

Elise’s eyes went cold.

Victor’s expression darkened. "Hugo."

Hugo lifted both hands. "What? We’re family."

Maribelle’s pen moved across her tablet.

Hugo glanced at it instantly. "What did you write?"

"Observation."

"What observation?"

"That your survival instinct is decorative."

Lux laughed.

Naomi looked away, trying not to.

Hugo’s face flushed, but his smile only deepened. "You’re enjoying this."

Maribelle looked up. "Incorrect. I am documenting it."

"That’s worse."

"Yes."

Hugo stared at her.

Oh, he was in trouble.

And worse, he was starting to enjoy the trouble.

Elise exhaled softly, regaining herself. "Hugo is being childish," she said.

Hugo turned toward her. "You are trying to steal your cousin’s man through a fake project."

Naomi’s eyes narrowed.

Elise’s smile became razor-thin. "And you are trying to flirt with a secretary who clearly thinks you are an underdeveloped spreadsheet."

Maribelle added calmly, "Overformatted. Underfunded."

Hugo pointed at her. "See? She understands me."

"She insulted you," Elise snapped.

"With precision."

"That is not intimacy."

"It could be."