Page 48 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
"Is it wrong, though? Because from where Elena and I sit, it looks like your staff has forgotten the chain of command. Maybe if you spent less time coddling employees and more time with your actual family, we wouldn't have these problems."
I wanted to sink through the floor rather than endure another second of this public humiliation.
"My staff understands their roles perfectly," Lucian said confidently. "What they don't need is lectures from someone who's never worked a day in his life."
Blake's face flushed red with anger, and I felt my face blanching. "Right. God forbid anyone questions the great Lucian Cross. Maybe if you'd put half as much energy into being a father as you do defending your precious company, your children wouldn't have to schedule appointments to see you."
I watched Lucian's composure crack just enough to reveal the guilt and pain underneath.
My heart broke for him, for the weight he carried, for the way his son wielded that burden as a weapon, because I knew how Lucian felt. That statement probably gutted him.
Blake stalked toward the elevator and the silence he left behind felt suffocating.
When we were finally alone, I stood on unsteady legs, my hands shaking as I gathered my things. "I should go home. Let you process what happened."
"Tessa." Lucian's voice was soft, weary. "I owe you an apology for that display."
"You don't." I was barely holding it together. "He's your son. He has every right to question how you run your business."
"He has no right to treat you with disrespect." Lucian loosened his tie with one hand as he continued. "Family doesn't excuse cruelty."
The kindness in his voice made my throat tight with emotion.
I wanted to tell him that Blake was right, that I had been overstepping, that I'd been harboring feelings that had no place in our professional relationship. Instead, I found myself saying, "Have you eaten anything today?"
He looked surprised by the question. "What?"
"Food. Actual sustenance beyond coffee and the snack during your meeting." I could see the exhaustion in the lines around his eyes, the way constant pressure had carved itself into his features. "You look like you're running on caffeine."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—the first genuine expression I'd seen from him all afternoon. "Are you taking care of me, Miss Wynn?"
The question sent heat racing through my veins, but I forced myself to keep things light. "Someone has to. Your son clearly isn't volunteering for the position."
"No," Lucian said quietly, and the pain in his voice made my chest ache. "He's not."
I recognized the look on his face—it was deep and personal. It was exactly what I was trying to avoid.
"There's a steakhouse on Madison," he said. "It's the least I can do." He waited, watching my face, and I knew I shouldsay no. "Would you join me?" he finally asked. "I could use the company."
Everything in me told me to say no, but the vulnerable look on his face coupled with the relief I felt that he wasn’t taking Blake's side on this pushed a mental button I couldn’t ignore.
"All right," I said. "But I'm paying for my own meal."
The faintest smile curved his mouth, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He offered me his arm as we left the building, and I accepted because refusing would have felt petty after everything.
The driver was waiting, and neither of us spoke during the short ride downtown. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, only weighted, the kind that followed tense moments like we'd shared.
The steakhouse on Madison was polished and understated, paneled walls lined with bottles of wine and the steady clink of cutlery carrying across the room.
A low fire burned at the far end, more for atmosphere than heat. Lucian slid into the booth across from me, shoulders tense beneath his dark suit, his eyes shadowed in a way I rarely saw at the office.
“I need to say this while I can,” he said after the waiter poured our wine and disappeared. His tone was stripped bare, absent of the authority that usually carried every word. “Blake shouldn’t have treated you like that. But worse than that, he shouldn’t have felt like he had to fight me for attention in the first place.”
He let the words fall, and for a moment neither of us spoke. I didn't know what to say so I stayed quiet until he continued.
“When they were children, I thought giving them everything was enough. Private schools, travel, anything money could buy. But it was me they needed. I wasn’t there. I was at the office, in meetings, signing deals while they were growing up without a father. And now?” His jaw tightened. “Now I see them grown,bitter, and I wonder if I’ve failed at the only role that should have mattered.”
The confession unraveled something inside me. This man, who walked into every boardroom like he owned the ground beneath his feet, looked completely undone at a small steakhouse table.
