Chapter 148

Angela POV

The past week had been unusually quiet. Christopher Blake had seemingly vanished from my life-no calls, no messages, no unexpected appearances at my door or office.

Even Sean Shaw had maintained his distance since our car shopping excursion.

I should have felt relieved. This was exactly what I wanted, wasn't it? Peace and quiet to focus on my children and growing my company without emotional complications.

Yet the sudden silence felt more like the calm before a storm than genuine respite.

My instincts proved correct when my phone lit up that morning with Sean's name on the screen.

I deliberately silenced it, setting the device face-down on my desk. Whatever he wanted could wait-indefinitely, if I had my way.

Minutes later, a knock on my office door broke my concentration. Marcus entered, extending his phone toward me with an apologetic grimace.

"It's Sean Shaw," he whispered. "He says it's urgent."

With a deep sigh, I accepted the phone. "Sean, do you find this amusing?"

"What would you like me to say?" His voice carried that familiar cool detachment that always managed to infuriate me.

"Why are you calling my company when I didn't answer my phone?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone in the first place?" he countered smoothly.

"That's funny. Why would I need to answer your calls at all?"

A brief pause filled the line before he replied, "Have you forgotten our relationship, Angela? I'm your company's primary investor."

My irritation instantly transformed into professional concern. "I apologize. I assumed it was a personal call. Is there something we need to discuss?"

"Investment strategy proposals. We need to review them tonight."

As I returned Marcus's phone, I mentally calculated how this would impact my evening with the twins. "Send me the details," I said curtly before ending the call.

That evening, I stood before my closet, deliberating longer than necessary over my outfit.

I finally selected a black pantsuit-professional, conservative, and distinctly non-provocative. The perfect armor for whatever game Sean was playing.

"You and Aria need to go to bed early tonight, aunt Olivia Will take care of you." I said, kneeling to straighten Ethan's collar as he nodded solemnly.

"Where are you going, Mama?" Aria asked, her small fingers tugging at my sleeve.

"Just a business meeting, sweetheart. I'll be back before you know it."

My phone chimed with a text message from Thomas Smith:

Ms. Wilson, Mr. Shaw expects you at the Four Seasons Hotel, Suite 2801, at 8 PM to discuss investment proposals.

I stared at the screen in disbelief. A hotel suite? Was he serious?

"Why a hotel?" I muttered to myself, pacing the living room. "We could meet at his office, or a restaurant, or literally anywhere else."

Deep down, I knew exactly what Sean was doing-establishing control over the situation, creating an environment where he held all the power.

The Four Seasons lobby exuded luxury as I walked toward the elevators. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, reminding myself that this was strictly business. Nothing more.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the 28th floor. Thomas Smith opened the door before I could knock, offering a polite nod before excusing himself and disappearing down the hallway, leaving me alone in the suite with Sean.

He stood by the window. I was struck by how much healthier and more handsome he looked than when I'd seen him just a week ago. It seemed his stomach condition had improved.

Instead of his usual impeccable suit, he wore dark slacks and a white button-down shirt with several buttons undone at the neck. I could faintly make out the defined muscle lines beneath the fabric.

The casual attire immediately put me on edge-this didn't look like someone prepared for a business meeting.

"You're here," he observed, turning to face me. "Would you like a drink?"

"Let's get straight to work," I replied, deliberately maintaining my distance.

A slight smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Don't be so tense, Angela. This is business, not personal."

Something in his tone suggested otherwise.

"This proposal is completely unworkable," Sean declared, tossing the document onto the coffee table between us. "Do you genuinely believe this risk assessment is reasonable?"

I straightened, meeting his gaze directly. "The data supports my conclusions, Sean."

"Five years, and this is all you've learned?" His words cut deeper than they should have.

"Please don't bring personal emotions into a business discussion."

"You're the one injecting personal feelings into this proposal, Angela." He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Your projections are clouded by emotion, not reality."

I fought to keep my voice level. "I disagree. My analysis is sound."

"Is it?" Sean stood abruptly, moving around the table to my side. "Look here," he said, pointing to a specific section of the document. "This forecast completely contradicts current market trends."

He stood directly behind me now, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. I tried to step away, only to find myself backed against the desk.

"You're too close, Sean," I warned, my voice quieter than intended.

He placed one hand on the desk, effectively trapping me. "Does this make you uncomfortable? I'm simply showing you where the problems are."

"I can see perfectly fine without you hovering over me."

His proximity was disorienting-the familiar scent, the steady rhythm of his breathing. My body remembered him even as my mind rebelled against the memories.

"Enough," I finally declared, gathering the documents. "This clearly isn't a productive business meeting. I'm leaving."

As I moved toward the door, Sean's hand caught my wrist. His grip wasn't painful, but it was firm enough to stop me in my tracks.

"We're not finished here," he said, his voice dropping lower.

"Let go of me, Sean." I tried to pull away, but he held fast.

"Five years later, and you're still running away when things get difficult."

"I'm not running," I retorted. "I'm removing myself from an unproductive situation."

"Look me in the eyes and say that."

I made the mistake of meeting his gaze. Something electric passed between us-anger and something more dangerous, something I refused to acknowledge.

His eyes dropped momentarily to my lips before returning to meet my stare, and I felt a familiar flutter in my stomach that I immediately tried to suppress.

"I need to go," I insisted, reaching for the door handle.

In one swift movement, Sean stepped forward, his palm flat against the door, preventing me from opening it. His other arm came up on my opposite side, effectively caging me between his body and the door. We were inches apart now, his breath warm against my skin.

"I'll leave when you approve a proper proposal," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"Have I said you could leave?" His eyes darkened as they searched mine.

I was suddenly acutely aware of our positions-my back against the door, his body nearly touching mine.

I drew a deep breath, reminding myself of everything that had happened, of the life I'd built without him, of the promises I'd made to myself.

"Sean," I said firmly, my tone stern and unyielding, "move."