Hannah's Chance (Chapter 5) (fm:sex at work, 5664 words) [5/5] show all parts

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Hannah's pulse quickened as she felt a surge of progress. Now she was really getting somewhere. "So he's Tanaka's shadow power? An advisor? A major shareholder?"

Rossi's gaze swept over her, steady and unhurried. "Why don't you make yourself even more comfortable? Before we continue."

Hannah knew she had to keep him talking. Had to play his game.

She sat up, deliberately slow, and unbuttoned her blouse halfway, revealing the curve of her collarbone. Rossi's eyes tracked the movement, but she kept her voice cool, detached. "Comfortable enough? Now tell me who he is."

"You can do better than that," he said softly.

Hannah unbuttoned the blouse fully, allowing it to hang open and revealing her bra. "His name," she demanded.

"It isn't his name you need to know. It's the game he's playing." Hannah stayed motionless, waiting for more.

"The scarab isn't a major shareholder in Tanaka. He's - the - major shareholder."

Hannah's breath caught. The revelation rewrote everything. Tanaka Holdings was publicly traded, but Rossi implied concentrated private ownership. "How?"

Rossi hesitated. "You didn't get this information from me, by the way."

Hannah kept her gaze steady. "Of course not."

"He operates through a labyrinth of shell companies. A hidden center of gravity."

Hannah absorbed the implications. The scarab beetle wasn't just influential. He - was - Tanaka. His demand for proof wasn't a broker's test, it was an owner's audit. Her demo wasn't a pitch, it was a lifeline. She sat very still, thinking it all through, her pulse racing despite the deliberate calm she was trying to project and her mouth suddenly felt very dry.

"Could I get a drink now?" she asked. "Water's fine." Rossi had been casting his eyes over her, but now he rose, the silk robe whispering against the leather sofa. He poured mineral water into a crystal tumbler, his movements unhurried.

Hannah sipped the water, reflecting that Rossi had been true to his word when he'd said that he didn't waste people's time. His information had changed everything regarding Tanaka, but she wasn't finished with him yet. She knew he had more up his sleeve than he had divulged so far. She had to keep him talking.

"Why the secrecy?"

"Because if the market knew a single player held such a dominant position, it would spook other shareholders. With good reason. The scarab is considering dumping his entire holding and if that happened the Tanaka share price would go into free fall."

Hannah's mind raced even more than it had been. The scarab beetle wasn't just testing her model, he was deciding whether to abandon ship entirely. Her demo could save Tanaka or trigger its collapse. "Why meet me anonymously? Why the masquerade?"

Rossi appeared hesitant, as though fearing saying too much. "Anonymity's a habit for him. It's how he operates."

Hannah knew there was more. She sat up to put her tumbler down and then slipped her blouse from her shoulders, placing it over the jacket. A calculated concession to keep things moving.

Rossi's eyes roved over her exposed skin. "He doesn't trust you. He knows you've been talking to Chen."

Hannah kept her expression neutral, but her mind raced again. The scarab beetle had eyes everywhere. "What else?"

"If Chen knows, the board knows, and he's not ready for the board to know." Rossi paused, his gaze lingering on the curve of her shoulder. "He's been watching you. He knows you're ambitious. He knows you're... adaptable."

Hannah felt a chill despite the suite's warmth. The scarab beetle hadn't just appeared at the club - he'd orchestrated her invitation. He'd tested her resolve with the midnight meeting, then dangled the impossible Keller deadline to see how she'd react. "He set the trap with Keller," she stated flatly. "The forty-eight-hour window. It was a stress test."

Rossi nodded, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. "To see if you'd crumble or innovate. To see what you were made of." His gaze dropped pointedly to her exposed skin. "You passed, by the way. Barely." He paused for a moment. "Not being able to give him an immediate demo should have blown you out of the water, but you got away with it."

Hannah ignored the implied compliment, her mind churning. The scarab beetle wasn't just Tanaka's owner; he was a puppeteer, pulling strings from the shadows. Her demo wasn't just about proving her model, it was about proving - her. Her resilience. Her resourcefulness. Her ability to navigate chaos.

"And you?" she asked, her voice low. "Where do you fit in his game?"

Rossi's smile turned predatory. "I'm the wild card he can't control. The one who knows where the bodies are buried." He leaned forward, the silk robe gaping slightly. "For instance, I know why he's really testing you. It's not just about Tanaka."

Hannah held her ground, skin prickling. "Then what?"

Rossi's gaze drifted lower. "Why not slip out of that skirt? You're clearly not fully comfortable yet." He paused, letting the silence thicken. "The scarab beetle doesn't just want to salvage Tanaka. He wants to reshape it. And he thinks - you - might be the architect."

Hannah's fingers trembled slightly as she unzipped her skirt. She let it pool at her feet, standing in bra and panties under the suite's harsh lights. The chilled nature of the conversation raised goosebumps on her skin, despite the warmth of the room. "Architect how?" she pressed, voice steady despite the vulnerability.

Rossi's gaze lingered, seemingly fond of looking at her legs. "Tanaka's core tech is becoming obsolete. The scarab sees potential in your predictive model not just to salvage value, but to pivot the entire company. He's hunting for a visionary." He paused, swirling his whisky. "But architects need leverage and your leverage expires if you fail the demo."

Hannah's mind raced. The scarab beetle wasn't just evaluating her model, he was auditioning her for leadership. But that was an audition she just couldn't pass. She just didn't have the necessary experience. She might be the one on his radar, but she was going to need Alex's analytical brilliance to get through the demo.

Hannah was still standing, lost in thought, and Rossi had resumed looking at her legs. The demo loomed large in her thinking and she tried to work out how to handle it.

"You can't let the scarab suspect that you know any of this," said Rossi suddenly. "If he suspects that you know who he is, he'll walk away immediately."

Hannah nodded slowly, the chill deepening. Every interaction with the scarab beetle had been a performance - and she hadn't even known she was on stage. She stepped out of the skirt pooled around her ankles, leaving it on the floor as she moved toward the panoramic window. Milan's skyline glittered below, indifferent to the high-stakes chess game unfolding inside the suite. Her reflection stared back - pale skin, dark circles under her eyes, the bra and panties making her look exposed yet strangely defiant. "Architect," Rossi had said. The word echoed like a promise and like a threat. She wasn't just pitching a model, she was auditioning to rebuild an empire. And failure might mean more than losing Tanaka, it might mean triggering its collapse.

Rossi's voice cut through her thoughts, smooth as silk. "Remember when you meet the scarab, that you know nothing of what I've told you tonight. He's just a mystery man as far as you're concerned. Just another potential client."

Hannah nodded, her eyes fixed on the city lights, the chill of the conversation sharpening her focus. Rossi knew too much - about Tanaka, about the scarab's intentions, about her own ambitions. She turned slowly, meeting his gaze. "And what do you get out of sharing this? Besides the view."

Rossi's smile didn't reach his eyes. "That really would be telling." He rose, closing the distance between them. His fingers brushed her bare arm, tracing a line from shoulder to wrist. "You're standing at a crossroads, Hannah. Fail the demo and it's an opportunity gone forever. Succeed and it's a deal you'll always be proud of."

Hannah didn't flinch. "You haven't answered my question."

Rossi's hand lingered at her wrist. "I haven't answered it yet. Stairs are meant to be taken one step at a time. First let's deal with matters more immediately at hand. Time's ticking down to the demo."

Hannah pulled her eyes away from the window and walked back to her seat. "Well I don't know how I'm going to handle the demo."

Rossi sat opposite her again. "Why do you say that?"

"Because I need help from my office to get through it. But even then there are so many pitfalls, so many ways I could fall flat on my face. I'm not going to be able to answer every question he dreams up."

"I'm sure we can work this out together," said Rossi.

Hannah looked at him doubtfully. "How?"

"You just need to play your cards right. And make sure you're playing with a full deck."

Hannah leaned forward, elbows on knees, the chill of the problem forgotten under the heat of her focus. "What deck? I have Alex back in the office crunching numbers, but he's an analyst, not a magician. The scarab will rip through assumptions I haven't even considered."

"I'll tell you exactly how to handle it," said Rossi. "First of all, sit back and relax." He waited as she leaned back and added "and take your bra off for me."

Hannah hesitated, weighing the cost against the prize. Rossi's confidence swayed her, as it held the promise of salvation. She unhooked her bra and let it fall onto the sofa beside her. Rossi's eyes gleamed at the sight of her bare breasts. He clearly relished the splendid view before him and made no attempt to hide his reaction.

"Now," he began, leaning forward intently. "The scarab expects perfection? Give him vulnerability instead." Hannah frowned, confused. Rossi explained: "Admit one flaw upfront, a minor assumption gap. It disarms him. Shows humility, not weakness." Hannah nodded slowly, seeing the strategy, turn scrutiny into collaboration.

Rossi continued: "When he probes Tanaka's liquidity crisis, pivot to their untapped patents. My own research shows three nearing expiration." Hannah's eyes widened - she hadn't considered that angle. Rossi smirked. "Redirect. Always redirect. Make him see salvage where he sees sinking."

Hannah's mind raced, slotting Rossi's insights into her strategy. The patents were Alex's specialty - she'd need him working every minute possible before the demo. But Rossi wasn't finished. "The scarab's final trap?" He paused dramatically. "He'll ask how your model handles catastrophic market shifts. Not theory. Specifics."

Panic flickered across Hannah's face. "I don't have—"

"You do," Rossi interrupted, his gaze drifting lower. "The Swiss biotech collapse Keller orchestrated? Feed that data into your model - live. Show him real-time adaptation." He paused, letting the brilliance sink in. "It proves resilience and steals Keller's thunder in one move."

Hannah's breath hitched. The solution was audacious, elegant. Using Keller's own destruction to showcase her model's strength. But doubt crept in. "Alex would need hours to reconfigure—"

"Tell him he's got three," Rossi cut in, eyes still tracing her bare skin. "Email him now. While I watch." His demand hung thick, part of the price for salvation. Hannah hesitated, feeling rather too warm now despite sitting there in nothing but her panties. Outside, the city of Milan glittered in the night, indifferent to the drama unfolding in the suite. Inside, the clock screamed: "demo - at - six - this - evening, architect - or - ash."

She reached for her phone, fingers trembling slightly as she typed a message to Alex. There was a lot to explain, but she tried to be as thorough as possible, so he understood everything that she needed from him. Rossi watched, taking the opportunity to openly ogle her beautiful breasts. He had plenty of time to do it now, as Hannah typed away, though her arms out in front of her, as she held the phone, did obscure the view to some extent. His gaze eventually drifted lower again.

Hannah pressed send, the message vanishing into the ether, the screen's glow reflecting in her wide eyes. "Three hours," echoed in her thoughts. "Alex would need every second." She placed the phone face down on the sofa cushion, acutely aware of Rossi's lingering stare. The suite felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with unspoken demands. She shifted, crossing her legs defensively, but the movement only drew his attention more sharply to the curve of her thigh, which was now nicely displayed.

Rossi leaned back, swirling his whisky. "Good. Now, the scarab's weakness." His voice dropped, conspiratorial. "He values audacity above perfection. He's bored with yes-men." He paused, letting the implication settle. "Challenge him. Politely, of course. Question one of his own premises during the demo. It'll intrigue him."

Hannah absorbed this, her mind racing. She'd spent weeks preparing deference, not defiance. "Which premise?" she asked, her voice low.

Rossi's gaze didn't waver from her body. "Tanaka's Asian market dependence. Argue it's a strength, not a liability. He's been spooked by recent tariffs." He paused, swirling his whisky. "But frame it as curiosity, not correction. Make him defend his own stance." Hannah nodded slowly, filing the tactic away. Audacity, not arrogance.

The silence stretched, broken only by the faint hum of the city below. Rossi's eyes traced the line where her panties met her hip. "We're almost there," he murmured. "Just one more thing you need to know."

Hannah braced herself. "What?"

Rossi's eyes still traced the line where her panties met her hip, but said nothing more. Hannah decided that if there was one more piece to this puzzle then she had to have it.

"Tell me," she pressed, leaning forward slightly. The movement made her breasts sway, and Rossi's gaze flickered upward briefly, enjoying the view, before settling back on her face. "What else?"

"Relax Hannah," he said. "I want to see that you're fully comfortable before I tell you this."

Hannah hesitated, her fingers curling into the sofa fabric. But she didn't hesitate for long, because the final piece - whatever it was - felt vital. She slid her panties down her legs and kicked them aside, sitting completely naked now under Rossi's unwavering gaze. "Tell me."

Rossi's eyes swept over her with undisguised appreciation before locking onto hers. "The scarab beetle," he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, "isn't just Tanaka's shadow owner. He's the silent partner behind - three - of the funds Clare Buchanan courted last quarter. Funds that rejected her proposals." He paused, letting the implication sink in. "He's been assessing your firm, Hannah. Through Tanaka. Through - you. Tonight isn't just about saving a company. It's about who he trusts to manage his empire's next evolution."

Hannah froze, the revelation hitting like ice water. Clare's recent frustrations, the inexplicable investor rejections - it hadn't been market jitters. It had been the scarab beetle, testing the waters, probing weaknesses. And Hannah, by stepping into Shirley's shoes, had become his unwitting litmus test. Her demo wasn't just for Tanaka, it was an audition for Layton Moreby Associates itself.

Rossi watched her reaction, a predator asessing prey, savoring the strike. "He doesn't trust Clare's old guard. Too rigid. Too predictable." His gaze drifted pointedly down her naked form. Hannah sat with her legs together, displaying little between them, but he could see enough to know that she had very little hair there, being very closely and neatly trimmed. His eyes drifted higher again. "But you? You intrigue him. The secretary who clawed her way into the lion's den. Who plays the game... differently."

Hannah's mind reeled. Clare's skepticism, Tanaka's collapse, the impossible deadlines - all threads pulled by the scarab beetle. Her throat tightened. "So tonight..."

She leaned forward to pick up her tumbler of water again, her breasts swaying as she did so, Rossi's eyes fixed on their movement. "The water's warm now," she said.

"Please help yourself to more," he said. "Be my guest." He could have got it for her himself, but he wanted to watch her naked form as she walked across the room and back again.

As Hannah crossed to the minibar, his gaze followed her every movement, the shift of muscle in her back, the curve of her hips, the perfectly formed cheeks and her enticingly lovely legs. She filled her glass with ice, the clatter loud in the tense silence, and added the mineral water. As she crossed back, she sharpened her focus on the implications of Rossi's revelation. The scarab beetle wasn't just a hidden force in Tanaka, he was a puppeteer pulling strings across the entire financial landscape that Layton Moreby navigated. Clare's frustrations were suddenly cast in an entirely different light.

Rossi watched her return, viewing her from the front this time, lost in the admiration of her body, making the most of every second of her walk back. Hannah was aware of being watched, but her thoughts remained on that last revelation. It had rewritten everything for her, almost as though the entire universe had been reset. She couldn't get it out of her head that the scarab beetle was a puppeteer of Layton Moreby's own future.

She sat down again, crossing her legs, her glass of water held tightly in both hands. The ice clinked softly as she took a sip. The cold water felt good on her dry throat. "So Clare's failures," she said, her voice low and intense, "they weren't just bad pitches. They were deliberate rejections orchestrated by him?"

Rossi nodded, his eyes still tracing the lines of her body. "Precisely. He's been auditing your firm's resilience. Clare represents the old model - cautious, by-the-book. You represent... something else. Something adaptable." He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "That's why he set the Keller deadline against Tanaka's demo. He wanted to see how you'd prioritize under pressure. How you'd innovate."

Hannah's knuckles whitened around the glass. The Keller biotech deal wasn't just an opportunity - it had been bait. And she'd taken it, proving her hunger. "So when I pitch tonight—"

"It's not a pitch," Rossi corrected, his voice sharp. "It's a performance review. For you. For Clare Buchanan. For the entire firm. It's all about seeing if you can do what's expected of you."

Hannah set her glass down with a soft thud, the ice shifting. "And if I fail?"

Rossi set his own glass down and rose, walking around to her side of the table. "Stand up," he said gently.

Hannah hesitated, then stood, facing him. His gaze swept over her nakedness, lingering on the curve of her waist, the slope of her hip. He didn't touch her. Not yet. "You don't need to think about failure," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Just make sure you've got this Alex you referred to completely onboard and there's every chance you'll pass the audition."

He stepped closer, the heat of his body radiating against her skin. "Just remember what I told you a minute ago." His finger traced a light, almost imperceptible line down her sternum, stopping just above her navel. "It's all about seeing if you can do what's expected of you."

Hannah held his gaze, refusing to flinch. "And what exactly is expected?"

Rossi's finger drifted lower, moving down her skin, hovering just above the closely trimmed hair between her legs. "To be exactly what you are right now. Unprotected. All-in. Willing to expose every vulnerability for the prize." His eyes flicked back to hers, sharp and assessing. "The scarab respects nothing less. He wants architects who understand the cost of building empires."

Hannah didn't move, the air crackling between them. She understood the unspoken equation: Rossi's intel was invaluable, but his price wasn't just her nudity, it was becoming his trophy for the night. She tried to feel relaxed, knowing that he had earned the compensation he now wanted.

Rossi's hand finally settled, warm and possessive, on the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. She could already feel the hard outline of his arousal through his silk robe. His other hand slid up her spine, fingers tangling in her hair, tilting her head back. His mouth descended on hers, not gently, but with the claiming hunger of a man who wanted his prize.

Hannah met him with equal fervor, a deliberate and calculated surrender. This was the final transaction of the night, the true price for the keys to the kingdom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, arching into him, letting him feel the press of her bare breasts against his chest. His robe parted easily under her touch, revealing the firm and taut muscle beneath.

His hands roamed freely now - cupping her backside and stroking her soft cheeks, tracing the curve of her waist, sliding possessively over her hip. He held the kiss for some time, but eventually broke it, his breathing ragged, his eyes dark with desire as they raked over her exposed body. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice extremely thick. "Utterly magnificent."

Hannah kept her gaze locked on his, projecting confidence even as his touch explored every inch of her skin. She knew the power of this moment - her complete vulnerability was paradoxically her strength. Rossi's hands moved higher, his fingers tracing the swell of one breast and then the other, circling but not yet touching either of her very prominent nipples.

His hands slid lower again, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine before gripping her hips firmly. Hannah felt the cool silk of his open robe against her skin as he guided her backward toward the plush sofa. She put up no resistance to the move, allowing him to lower her onto the cushions, her body arching instinctively as his mouth descended on hers again.

His mouth moved down to her neck and he covered it with kisses. Then his teeth grazed her skin - a sharp, possessive bite that drew a gasp from her lips. "Relax," he murmured, his mouth now against her collarbone. "Just enjoy this." He paused to slip his robe from his shoulders, throwing it aside, and then his fingers once again traced the swell of her breasts.

Hannah closed her eyes, focusing on the sensations: the scrape of his stubble against her skin, the warmth of his breath, the firm pressure of his hands roaming her body. His fingers had moved from her breasts and now traced the curve of her waist, slid slowly over her hip, and finally brushed the neatly trimmed hair between her legs. She tensed instinctively.

"Relax," Rossi murmured again, his voice rough against her collarbone. "I'll take good care of you." His hand drifted lower, now right between her legs, fingers exploring with deliberate slowness. Hannah's breath hitched as his touch became more intimate, probing, assessing.

She remained completely pliant, a calculated tactic on her part, a response to what she perceived he wanted. His fingers continued their exploration, his touch still deliberate, unhurried. She parted her legs further to give him easier access, arching slightly into his hand.

He had traced the outer folds first, but now he smoothly changed his focus and moved in on her sweet spot. Hannah's breath caught as he found that nerve center and started gently tracing small circles around it. At the same time, his eyes roved over her body, appreciating how her nipples, which were prominent anyway, had hardened into very stiff and tight peaks.

He shifted his weight, leaning over her, his other hand cupping her breast firmly. His thumb brushed over her nipple, sending a jolt through her. Hannah gasped, arching her back instinctively, pressing herself more firmly into his touch. Rossi watched her reactions intently, his expression one of focused appreciation. "That's it," he murmured, his voice thick. "Let go."

His fingers continued their relentless circles, the pressure increasing just enough to make her hips lift off the cushion. Hannah's breath came in short, sharp bursts. She focused on the sensations - the heat pooling low in her belly, the electric friction of his touch, the cool air on her flushed skin contrasting with the warmth of his body above her. Her hands gripped the sofa cushions, knuckles white.

Rossi lowered his head, his mouth replacing his thumb on her nipple. The sudden heat, the suction, the scrape of teeth - it shattered her control. A moan escaped her lips, raw and unfiltered. He responded by intensifying the rhythm of his fingers below, his touch now slick and sure. Hannah's legs trembled and her world narrowed to the twin points of sensation - his mouth and his hand - building a relentless pressure inside her.

She surrendered to it, hips lifting off the sofa, meeting his touch. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against her breast. The sounds she made - low whimpers, sharp gasps - filled the quiet suite. Rossi lifted his head, watching her face contort with pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. Hannah's eyes flew open, locking onto his predatory gaze. Seeing her vulnerability reflected there only seemed to excite him further.

His mouth moved from one hard nipple to the other, giving it the same treatment as the first. At the same time, his fingers reached her entrance and slid along it for a moment, finding it wet, before curling inside her, finding a deeper rhythm that drew a choked cry from her throat.

The pressure built, relentless and consuming. Rossi's thumb pressed hard against her clit, circling in tight, deliberate strokes timed with the thrust of his fingers. Hannah arched violently, her back leaving the cushions entirely. Every muscle tensed, coiled. A tremor started deep within her core, spreading outward in electric waves. Rossi felt it, saw it in the frantic flutter of her eyelids, the desperate clench of her thighs around his wrist. He knew what was coming.

He kept his movements steady and suddenly her pleasure detonated, white-hot and dazzling. Hannah cried out, a ragged sound ripped from her throat as her body convulsed against him. Rossi pinned her hips down, forcing her to ride the sensation, prolonging the shuddering release until she collapsed back onto the sofa, gasping, sweat-slicked and trembling.

He didn't waste any time. As Hannah lay spent, the aftershocks still coursing through her, Rossi positioned himself between her legs. She felt the blunt pressure of his erection against her entrance before he pushed inside in one smooth, claiming thrust. Hannah gasped at the sudden fullness and he gave her time to adjust before establishing a deep, rhythmic pace.

Rossi watched her face intently, his thrusts deliberate and controlled. "Look at me," he commanded again, his voice rough with exertion. Her eyes met his, the predatory satisfaction in them unmistakable. This wasn't passion, it was about possession and claiming a trophy.

Hannah's mind drifted back to business, the intimacy of the night replaced by an unsettling thought. "Alex would have only three hours." She was feeling tired now, but that thought cut through the haze of her mind's fatigue, making her wonder how she was going to cope.

Rossi's rhythm was steady, his thrusts measured, but his breathing was becoming heavier. She decided to arch her body against his, wrapping her legs around him and gasping a little. Not an act of attachment, but leverage. Every movement by her now was calculated theater.

She could see that he was approaching his peak, his state of arousal growing rapidly, but her mind drifted away again. "Alex would have only three hours." Despite the heat of her encounter with Rossi, that thought was a cold splash of reality that she couldn't shake off.

Suddenly he groaned loudly, and Hannah felt the hot pulse of his release inside her, his body jerking and shuddering against hers. He collapsed onto her, a spent force now, his breathing ragged, and Hannah lay perfectly still beneath him, staring at the ceiling's ornate molding. The transaction was complete, the suite feeling unnervingly silent after the intensity of their coupling.

Rossi shifted his weight and rolled off her, his breathing still heavy. The silence stretched between them, until he suddenly broke it by saying "magnificent." Hannah remained silent and motionless, staring at the ceiling's intricate plasterwork. Rossi's intel had been crucial, more important than she anticipated, but it was still just a start. She had much work to do.

She sat up slowly, getting her mind together, ignoring Rossi's appreciative gaze. It had been a long day and she was tired, but she dressed quickly, knowing she needed to be on the move. Rossi watched her silently, sipping water. "You'll need to be sharp tonight," he finally said, his voice raspy. "The scarab doesn't forgive hesitation."

Hannah nodded, buttoning her blouse. Her skin still hummed from Rossi's touch, but her mind was on business now. The Keller biotech collapse data needed integration into her model, a task requiring precision Alex excelled at. If he couldn't deliver... She pushed the thought aside. Doubt was a luxury she couldn't afford.

Rossi watched her dress, his gaze lingering. "Remember," he said, swirling the ice in his glass, "the scarab expects audacity. Not perfection. Show him you understand the stakes."

Hannah slipped into her heels, the click echoing in the silent suite. "And make sure this Alex guy does the demo with you," Rossi continued. "Get him to connect remotely, so he can answer anything you can't."

She froze, turning to face him. "Alex is... private. He doesn't do crowds." The thought of Alex navigating the scarab beetle's scrutiny live made her stomach clench.

Rossi waved a dismissive hand. "Then make him public. Tonight's not about comfort zones." He rose, pulling his robe back on with practiced ease. "The scarab wants architects who thrive in chaos. Without your analyst you'll be bluffing at some points and he'll know you're bluffing."

The suite door clicked shut behind her and she walked along the corridor to the elevator. Her skin still tingled from Rossi's touch, but her mind was full of his final warning - without Alex live, you'll be bluffing. She stepped into the street and found the night air cold now and she was glad it was such a short walk to her own hotel.

As Hannah entered her hotel room, tiredness pressed in on her. Her thoughts tangled between exhilaration at what she's learnt from Rossi and unease at what she had to handle next, but she'd have to wait to try and untangle it all. The priority now was sleep.

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Hook writes Tue 21 Oct 2025 20:27:

Brilliant writing!

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