The food had arrived, the Chef's recommendations now beautifully laid out on the table. Truthfully, Phoebe had no intention of touching a single bite. However, she found herself picking up her fork, a small concession to the silent, relaxed cue Raymond gave her with that subtle, encouraging smile. She took a slow sip of her drink first, letting the cool liquid steady her nerves.
"To be brief, I want to discuss everything right now," she started.
"By all means, please … Princess."
Phoebe's eyes widened instantly, flashing with a sharp spark of rejection as she glared at him. "Do not call me that. You're certainly not my Prince!"
Raymond remained unfazed, he simply leaned back, his eyes fixed on her, waiting for the storm he knew was coming.
"You're the Italian man who was in that room with me that night, aren't you?"
"I'm glad you haven't forgotten me," he replied smoothly.
"And you're also the one who has been sending those gifts?"
He nodded without hesitation. To him, a detail that small wasn't worth keeping a secret.
"Then tell me, how did you find out my identity? How did you track down where I live when we live in different countries, on different continents?" Her tone was lethal, every word a calculated strike. She didn't blink; her gaze locked onto his like a predator's. This was the Titan, Phoebe Fortunata in her truest, most commanding form.
But Raymond didn't look intimidated. Instead, a small, knowing smile played on his lips. "It isn't difficult for me to find out what I want to know."
He's definitely no ordinary man, Phoebe thought, her mind racing.
"Especially," Raymond continued, "when the person I'm looking for isn't just a high-powered CEO, but also a renowned, beautiful Model."
The mention of her Modelling career struck a chord. "Of all the things I do, you only noticed those two? That I'm a Boss and a Model? That means you know quite a bit about my work in that industry."
"I know a few things about you, sweetheart," he responded casually.
"And are you the primary donor behind that massive, over-the-top ad campaign for my perfume recently?" Phoebe's voice dripping with confidence.
"What makes you assume that?"
"It's simple. That campaign was the first project I took after returning from Italy. In all my years working with brands, I've never seen a promotion that insane. Plus, the brand itself admitted the funding didn't come from them … and it certainly wasn't me."
"A precise observation." Raymond clapped his hands lightly, offering a mock-applause for the girl he considered brilliantly sharp.
However, his praise only fuelled her irritation. "What is your goal in all of this? You could have come to Australia without any obstacles, so why go through all these theatrics?" She made no effort to hide her distaste for his 'secret admirer' routine.
"You didn't enjoy it?"
"I didn't entirely hate it, but I prefer a man who is gentle and direct over a secret admirer!"
Phoebe's blunt honesty made Raymond pause and nod slowly. "Fair enough. I'm no longer hiding in the shadows. I am here, right in front of you and just as you guessed … the man before you is very interested in you."
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The playfulness in Raymond's voice vanished, replaced by a tone that was colder, more serious, and heavy with a vibe that made it clear, he was a man who played for keeps.
*****
A lingering sense of confusion clouded Phoebe's mind. Attempting to shift the atmosphere, she focused on her plate, taking a small, distracted bite of the food before lifting her gaze to truly study the man across from her. He sat with a natural, upright posture, broad-shouldered and undeniably handsome, radiating an aura that was difficult to pin down.
However, Phoebe was certain he was no ordinary man, she could see it in the disciplined way he moved, the way he ate, and especially in the multimillion-dollar timepiece glistening on his wrist. I know he isn't just anyone, but I can't decipher his true motive for entering my life.
"If there is something you want to ask, ask the man himself," Raymond said, his voice shattering her train of thought. He had caught her staring, reading the curiosity written all over her face. "I am right here. Tell me what is on your mind instead of questioning it in your heart, unless, of course, this man has already found a place in your heart, Miss Fortunata."
The sheer boldness of his words pulled her back into the conversation. "What is the basis of your interest in me?" she asked, her tone investigative. "Do you own a company in the same industry as mine?"
The sharp, calculating nature of her question only deepened Raymond's conviction; he admired a woman whose intellect could match his own. "If you are asking whether I intend to be your business rival, the answer is no," Raymond replied smoothly. "But if you want to know about my ventures, then yes, one of my companies does operate in the same field as yours."
The discussion flowed with a refined, rhythmic precision, continuing until Phoebe lost track of time. "So, what is the bottom line?" she finally interjected, a slight headache beginning to throb from the sheer exhaustion of the day.
"My arrival was not meant to disturb your peace, nor to act as your rival," Raymond stated with a calm, unshakeable honesty. "My presence here is simply because I am interested in you."
Phoebe's brow furrowed, she wasn't ready to accept such a blunt confession at face value. "Interested? On what grounds? My position? My beauty? My wealth?"
A flicker of past trauma resurfaced, forcing her to be blunt, but Raymond only offered a small, knowing smile. He knew enough about her history to understand why she was defensive. "One of the things that draws me to you is exactly this.
"What?"
"You are beautiful, that much is obvious. You are brilliant, that is certain. But wealth and status?" Raymond leaned in slightly, his gaze intensifying. "Those are not reasons for me, because I already have them all."
Damn! Phoebe felt the weight of his words. Part of her believed him, but another part of her bristled at the sheer confidence, the typical arrogance of a man who refused to be outdone. She quickly pushed back the sudden flicker of attraction as Raymond's true aura, that of a powerful ruler, washed over the table.
"Oh," she managed, her voice clipped.
****
"I've wasted enough of my time on you!" Phoebe declared, her voice dripping with a calculated arrogance. She deliberately painted herself in a harsh light, if Raymond's interest was based on a misconception of her kindness, she wanted to shatter that illusion immediately.
"If you're willing, I can pay for your time … just to keep you with me a little longer," Raymond countered, matching her sharp energy with effortless calm.
Phoebe tilted her head, a challenge gleaming in her eyes. "Oh? And how much are you willing to pay?"
"Name a price. I'll go above it."
A heavy silence settled between them. In that moment, the realization hit both of them, Raymond saw a woman who was nearly impossible to reach, while Phoebe recognized that Raymond stood far above any man she had ever encountered.
"Are you certain?"
"Quite certain, Miss Fortunata." The way he used her name felt like a verbal contract, a sign that his intentions were anything but trivial.
Phoebe appeared to be deep in thought and Raymond waited, curious to see what figure a woman like her would demand. Instead, she let out a sharp, dry laugh.
"In that case … never mind. I have no intention of selling my time to you." Phoebe grabbed her bag and stood up abruptly. "I'm leaving. And stop following me for the rest of the day!" she commanded, her tone final.
She turned and marched away, her seven-centimetre heels clicking against the floor with rhythmic confidence. Raymond followed her with a steady gaze, standing at the edge of the Restaurant's terrace as she reached the parking lot.
"Let me drive you home, Miss Fortunata."
"In a Porsche? A Ferrari? Or perhaps an Aston Martin?" The casual question caught Raymond off guard.
With practiced grace, Phoebe scanned the rows of luxury vehicles in the lot. "I don't see a single maroon car in this lot besides mine."
The statement was clear. Phoebe had standards, she was holding him to her previous demand, he could driver her only if he used the car she had specifically requested for her arrival. She offered a small, triumphant smile before opening the door to her R8.
"You may escort me when you have the car I mentioned." Phoebe's voice brimming with the authority of a woman who knew her worth. "Your current car might be more expensive than mine, but if it isn't my taste, what's the point?"
She didn't know, or care, what Raymond was driving that day. She was asserting her identity as a high-tier woman with specific taste.
"Fine," Raymond replied, aa hint of a smile touching his lips. "You may head home on your own for now."
"Of course I can. I'm the Boss, and I choose my own path." Phoebe slid into the driver's seat and pulled out of the lot, the roar of her engine echoing through the air as she left him standing there.
As the Restaurant vanished in her rearview mirror, Phoebe let out a long, ragged breath. Her face, usually an iron mask of composure, looked exhausted. Engaging with a man like Raymond, someone with such overwhelming energy, was draining her emotional reserves.
"He is definitely different," she whispered to herself. "But I have to stay guarded. Anyone can destroy me, especially those who try to enter through the heart." She stared at the road ahead, a cold realization settling in. of all her strengths, her heart was her only true weakness, the one thing that could make her easy to control once feelings were involved.