Chapter 119

“Hello, Miss Hayes,” the man leading the group offered a polished smile. “Nathaniel Harrington, representing Brighton Group.”

“Hello,” Vivienne replied calmly, giving a brief nod and gesturing them to be seated.

Nathaniel sat directly across from her, his professional demeanor unwavering. Derek, however, chose a seat at the far end of the table, lounging with casual elegance. His long fingers rested lightly against his temple, and though silent, his magnetic presence dominated the room. Even from across the table, Vivienne felt the weight of his piercing gaze.

Clearing her throat, she shifted, striving to ignore the distraction and focus on the matter at hand. The cooperation terms, roughly outlined in her earlier discussion with Derek, had undergone a significant alteration in the agreed-upon share distribution. Sinclair Group’s initial 55% share was now being challenged by Brighton Group’s demand for 60%.

The project manager beside Vivienne, noticing the change, leaned toward her, his expression tightening. “Miss Hayes, this change…”

Vivienne’s subtle warning glance silenced him. He reluctantly withdrew, though his displeasure was evident in the sharp look he threw at the Brighton team.

“We hope Sinclair Group can accommodate this adjustment,” Nathaniel said smoothly. “Brighton Group will oversee design and construction. Upon completion of the commercial district, we’ll provide a comprehensive, no-cost marketing campaign.”

Brighton Group’s unparalleled media influence, even as they diversified, remained a powerful asset—one that could significantly benefit Sinclair Group.

Vivienne closed the contract, her fingers tracing the edge of the paper. “We insist on an active role in design and construction,” she replied steadily. “As a gesture of goodwill, we’re willing to split the share evenly—fifty-fifty.”

Nathaniel conferred with his colleagues, but his gaze kept drifting to Derek, whose intensity bordered on enthrallment, his expression far softer than Nathaniel had ever witnessed—a captivating sight.

The Brighton representatives engaged in a heated discussion, their tones clipped and decisive. Nathaniel sought Derek’s input, only to find him completely captivated by Vivienne’s elegance. He sighed; guidance from Derek seemed impossible.

After a moment, Nathaniel adjusted his tie. “We’re willing to forgo involvement in the initial design and construction phases, but expect to participate in later planning stages. We’ll also ensure comprehensive offline promotional support, including handling all offline product promotions for Sinclair Group. Does this arrangement work for you, Miss Hayes?”

“Let’s proceed with your proposal,” Vivienne replied coolly, yet professionally.

Following the signed contracts, Vivienne offered a polite smile and an invitation. “Mr. Harrington, if convenient, I’ve arranged a private room at the Dreamscape Hotel. You’re welcome to join us.”

Nathaniel returned her smile, tilting his head. “Thank you, Miss Hayes, but our company has already made plans. In fact, the reservation was specifically arranged for you.” His tone held an unmistakable implication: “I hope you won’t decline.”

Caught off guard, Vivienne instinctively glanced at Derek. He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable except for a faint smirk—a blend of confidence and mischief. Hesitantly, she nodded in agreement.

As they left the meeting room, Scarlett hurried over. “Miss Hayes, Mr. Harvey Sinclair’s assistant is waiting in your office.”

Vivienne found the assistant standing by her desk, holding a key. “Miss Hayes, this is the key to the apartment,” he said, extending it.

“Thank you,” Vivienne replied, taking the key.

“You’re welcome. Mr. Sinclair asked me to let you know that if you require anything, I’m at your service,” the assistant said with a polite smile.

“Understood,” Vivienne said steadily.

After he left, she exhaled, poured coffee, and strolled to the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the city skyline. A sharp knock interrupted her thoughts. “Just leave it on the table,” she said absently.

“Are you thinking about me?” The deep, velvety voice resonated through the room, low and smooth, like the hum of a cello, sending a shiver down her spine.