Camille’s point of view
“Ms. Kane.” A deep voice interrupted my thoughts. “Andrew Hargrove, Meridian Investments. I’ve been hoping to speak with you about your approach to the TechVault integration.”
I turned to find a middle–aged executive with expensive dental work and even more expensive cufflinks. One of many who had dismissed me during my first attempt at the MicroLink negotiation, now eager to discuss strategy with Victoria Kane’s heir.
“Mr. Hargrove,” I replied, extending my hand. “I believe we met briefly at the Barrett negotiations last year.”
His expression flickered with confusion, then embarrassment as he failed to recall our previous encounter. “Did we? I apologize for not remembering.”
“No apology necessary,” I assured him, satisfaction warming my chest. “I was observing rather than participating at that point in my training.”
Training. As if I’d been Victoria’s protégée all along, not a broken woman she’d rescued and transformed for mutual benefit.
“Of course.” Hargrove recovered quickly, ego soothed by my gracious handling of his lapse. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on technology acquisition strategy when you have a moment. My firm is considering several targets in the same sector.”
“I’d be happy to share some general perspectives,” I replied, maintaining the careful balance between
professional courtesy and strategic advantage. “Perhaps at the Kane Industries conference next month? I believe Meridian will be represented.”
The conversation continued in this vein, him fishing for insights, me providing just enough to seem helpful while revealing nothing of value. A dance I’d rehearsed countless times with Victoria, now executed flawlessly in the field.
When Hargrove eventually excused himself, I resumed my circuit of the room, pausing occasionally to exchange pleasantries with guests Victoria had identified as potentially valuable connections. Always moving, always observing, absorbing the dynamics of a social world Camille Lewis had only glimpsed from its periphery. “Your mother has trained you well,” observed an elderly woman draped in heirloom jewels as I joined her briefly at a high–top table. “You have her watchfulness.”
I recognized her from my preparation materials, Margaret Whitmore, society doyenne and longtime acquaintance of Victoria’s. Not quite a friend, Victoria didn’t have friends, but a respected equal in New York’s social hierarchy.
“High praise, Mrs. Whitmore,” I replied. “Though I’ve much to learn still.”
“Hmm.” She studied me over her martini glass, “You move differently than most new money. More… contained. Like someone used to taking up less space who’s now allowing herself room to expand.”
The observation was uncomfortably perceptive. I maintained my pleasant expression, neither confirming nor denying her assessment,
“Victoria never does anything without multiple reasons,” she continued. “I’ve known her thirty five years, since before she was Victoria Kane. Back when she was just Victoria Reynolds from nowhere Pennsylvania, determined to conquer New York through sheer force of will.”
+25 BONUS
Chapter 31
This was new information. Victoria rarely discussed her background before her marriage to William Kane.
“She identified you for a purpose,” Mrs. Whitmore said, eyes sharp despite her age. “I wonder what it might be.” Before I could formulate a response that would neither reveal nor deny too much, a commotion near the entrance drew attention. Even the orchestra seemed to falter momentarily as a new arrival created a subtle ripple through
the crowd.
“Ah,” Mrs. Whitmore smiled slightly. “Alexander has decided to grace us with his presence after all.”
I followed her gaze to the man now being greeted with particular deference by the event staff. Tall, dark–haired, impeccably dressed in a tuxedo that somehow looked more deliberate than those around him. His face wasn’t conventionally handsome, too intense, features too strong, but compelling in its intelligence and focus. Despite his youth, he couldn’t be more than twenty–eight or twenty–nine, he carried himself with the unmistakable authority of enormous power.
“Alexander Pierce,” Mrs. Whitmore explained, noting my attention. “Surely Victoria has mentioned him.” The name sent a jolt through me. Alexander Pierce, the young trillionaire whose technological innovations had revolutionized multiple industries. Victoria’s most formidable business rival, despite the significant age gap between them. His rapid rise to wealth and influence had been unprecedented, his companies consistently outmaneuvering, established players in every sector they entered.
“She’s mentioned him,” I said carefully, watching as he moved through the crowd with a peculiar economy of motion. Unlike the other guests who performed for each other, laughing too loudly, constantly seeking attention, Pierce moved as if unconcerned with being observed.
uring too broadly,
“They avoid each other generally,” Mrs. Whitmore continued, clearly enjoying being the source of information I hadn’t anticipated. “Fierce competitors, those two. Though I always wondered if there wasn’t more to their mutual hostility than just business,”
I kept my expression neutral despite my racing thoughts. Victoria had never suggested Pierce might attend tonight. Had never included him in our preparation discussions. An oversight unlike her usual thoroughness. “If you’ll excuse me,” I said to Mrs. Whitmore, “I should continue my rounds.”
“Of course, dear. Do come find me again later. I have the most interesting gossip about that fashion designer everyone’s talking about, Rose something–or–other. Just became engaged her dead sister’s husband Stefan the Rodriguez shipping heir.”
My pulse jumped at the mention of Rose and Stefan, but I merely smiled politely before moving away. Now wasn’t the time to pursue that particular thread, not with Alexander Pierce’s unexpected presence demanding
assessment.
I circulated carefully through the ballroom, maintaining distance from Pierce while keeping him in my peripheral vision. He spoke little, listened intently, moved with purpose rather than social obligation. Several times I felt his gaze on me, though whenever I glanced in his direction, he appeared engaged elsewhere.
Victoria had also noticed his arrival. I caught her watching him with an expression I couldn’t quite interpret, not quite hostility, not quite concern. Something more complex. When our eyes met across the room, she gave an almost imperceptible nod. Acknowledgment of a complication, perhaps. Or instruction to proceed as planned
despite it.
An hour later, as I conversed with the CFO of a major technology corporation about blockchain applications, Victoria appeared at my side.
“Thomas, I need to borrow my daughter,” she said smoothly. “Read
Chapter 31
+25 BON
The CFO retreated with appropriate deference, and Victoria guided me toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.
“Pierce,” she said without preamble, “I didn’t anticipate his attendance. He rarely comes to social events, especially ones hosted by competitors.”
“Should I be concerned?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
Victoria’s eyes tracked Pierce across the room. “Uncertain. He’s brilliant but unpredictable. His companies have been aggressively moving into spaces adjacent to Kane Industries for the past three years.”
“You never told me much about him,” I observed.
“There’s not much to tell beyond what appears in business publications,” Victoria replied. “He emerged from nowhere seven years ago with a revolutionary Al algorithm built an empire with remarkable speed, and has been a thorn in my side ever since. Barely thirty and already worth more than my net worth.”
1 processed this information quickly. “How much does he know about me? About my background?”
“Nothing,” Victoria said firmly. “He’s been primarily in Asia for the past year, expanding his tech empire there. Has had minimal contact with my circles.”
Yet something in her tone suggested she wasn’t entirely confident of this assessment.
“Should I avoid him?” I asked.
1
Victoria considered for a moment, then shook her head. “N. That would appear unusual, given your position. If he approaches, be cordial but brief. You’ve been well–trained for unexpected situations.”
With that advice, she departed to manage a minor crisis involving a drunk board member and an overly inquisitive journalist.
I resumed my social circuit, hyperaware now of Pierce’s location in the room. For another hour, we conducted a strange dance of proximity without interaction, occupying the same general spaces but never quite converging, like planets in separate but overlapping orbits
Until suddenly, inevitably, the orbits aligned.
“Ms. Kane,” a smooth voice said behind me as I refreshed my champagne at the bar. “I believe we’re the only two people in this room who haven’t been formally introduced)
I turned to find Alexander Pierce standing closer than I’d expected, his height requiring me to tilt my head slightly to meet his gaze. This close, I could see his eyes were an unusual gray, not the flat color of storm clouds but something more complex, with hints of blue or green depending on the light.
Eyes that studied me with unsettling intensity.
“Mr. Pierce.” I extended my hand, the gesture both defensive and welcoming, “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”
A small smile touched his mouth, not quite reaching those watchful eyes. “I was observing. A habit Victoria likely
taught you as well.”
He took my offered hand, but instead of shaking it as expected, he brought it to his lips in an old–fashioned resture that somehow didn’t seem affected coming from hi
As his mouth brushed my knuckles, le locked eyes with mine and murmured words that turned my blood to ice: Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms. Kane, Or should use your previous name?”
