Chapter 5: Battlefield
1588words
I frowned at the tablet in my hands, scrolling back through the financial data Alexander had asked me to review. We were sitting in his home office, preparing for a meeting with Japanese investors scheduled for tomorrow. It was the first time he'd sought my professional input since our arrangement began three weeks ago.
"What error?" Alexander looked up from his laptop, brow furrowed.
"The currency conversion rates." I turned the tablet toward him, pointing to the figures in question. "These calculations use last quarter's exchange rates, but the yen has strengthened significantly since then. Your profit margins will be at least three percent lower than projected."
Alexander took the tablet, his expression darkening as he reviewed the numbers. "You're right. How did this get past our financial team?"
"Probably because they're using automated templates." I leaned forward, warming to the problem. "But with the Bank of Japan's recent policy shift, the standard models aren't accounting for the volatility."
He studied me with new interest. "And you know this because...?"
"I specialized in international finance before Reynolds hired me. My thesis was on currency fluctuations in Asian markets." I shrugged. "Old habits die hard. I still follow the trends."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Impressive."
That single word of praise shouldn't have pleased me as much as it did. I'd earned top honors at business school, managed million-dollar portfolios, and yet here I was, glowing from a billionaire's casual approval like a schoolgirl who'd just been noticed by her crush.
Pathetic, Elena.
"The meeting's at nine tomorrow," Alexander continued, oblivious to my internal scolding. "We need to revise these projections tonight."
"We?" I echoed.
"Unless you have other plans?" His tone was light, but his eyes held a challenge.
I thought of my empty evening ahead—another night of rattling around the penthouse while pretending I wasn't a prisoner in a gilded cage. At least this would give me something meaningful to do.
"No plans," I admitted. "But I'll need access to the raw data."
Alexander nodded, already typing. "I'm sending you secure access now. The Tanaka Group is our largest potential investor in the Asian market. This deal could open doors throughout the region."
"No pressure, then," I murmured, earning another almost-smile.
We worked in companionable silence for hours, the rhythm of collaboration surprisingly natural. Alexander was brilliant—his mind moved at lightning speed, connecting dots I hadn't even seen yet. But he listened when I spoke, considered my suggestions without ego. It was a side of him I hadn't witnessed before—the leader rather than the tyrant, the strategist rather than the controller.
By midnight, we'd rebuilt the entire presentation. My eyes burned from staring at screens, and even Alexander looked tired, his usual perfect posture slightly slumped.
"We should stop," I said, stifling a yawn. "Diminishing returns at this point."
Alexander checked his watch, seeming surprised by the time. "You're right. We need to be sharp tomorrow." He hesitated, then added, "You should attend the meeting."
I blinked in surprise. "Me? Why?"
"You understand these numbers better than anyone on my team. If they have questions about the revised projections, you're best positioned to answer them."
It was a logical decision, yet I sensed something more behind it—a tentative offering of professional respect I hadn't expected.
"Alright," I agreed. "But I'll need something appropriate to wear."
Alexander's eyes flickered briefly over my casual attire—leggings and an oversized sweater I'd changed into after dinner. "The blue suit in your closet. Third from the left. It's conservative enough for Japanese business culture."
Of course he would know exactly what was in my wardrobe. He'd purchased every item, after all.
"Third from the left," I repeated, rising from my chair. "I should get some sleep, then."
At the door, I paused, looking back at him. He'd already returned to his laptop, the blue light casting shadows across his face. "You should rest too, Alexander. Even brilliant minds need sleep."
He glanced up, surprise flickering across his features at my concern. "I will. Soon."
It was probably a lie, but I nodded anyway. "Goodnight, then."
"Elena," he called as I turned to go. When I looked back, his expression was uncharacteristically hesitant. "Thank you. For your help tonight."
Three simple words, yet they felt significant—perhaps because I suspected Alexander Blackwood didn't thank people often.
"You're welcome," I replied softly, and left him to his solitude.
---
The Tanaka Group representatives arrived precisely at nine the next morning—three Japanese businessmen in impeccable suits, led by Hiroshi Tanaka himself, a dignified man in his sixties whose calm demeanor couldn't quite mask the shrewd intelligence in his eyes.
Alexander introduced me simply as "Elena Winters, our financial analyst," with no mention of our engagement. I understood immediately—this was a business meeting, and he wanted me judged on my professional merits, not as his fiancée.
The meeting proceeded smoothly until we reached the revised projections. Mr. Tanaka frowned, comparing our numbers to the preliminary documents his team had received.
"These figures are significantly different," he noted, his English precise and formal. "Why the sudden change?"
Alexander nodded to me, ceding the floor. I took a deep breath and explained the currency fluctuations, the Bank of Japan's policy shift, and our recalculations based on the latest data.
Mr. Tanaka listened intently, then asked a series of increasingly technical questions that tested the limits of my knowledge. I answered each one, drawing on years of study and experience, aware of Alexander watching me with quiet intensity.
"Most companies would have presented the more favorable projections," Mr. Tanaka said when I finished. "It is... unusual... to revise downward before negotiations even begin."
"Blackwood International values accuracy over optimism," Alexander replied smoothly. "We prefer to exceed expectations rather than disappoint our partners."
Mr. Tanaka's gaze shifted between us, assessing. "And you, Ms. Winters? Do you share this philosophy?"
"I believe that trust is built on truth," I said simply. "Even when the truth isn't what we might wish it to be."
Something like approval flickered in the older man's eyes. He nodded once, then turned back to Alexander. "Let us discuss the terms of our potential partnership."
The negotiations continued for another two hours, with Alexander masterfully steering the conversation toward a framework both sides could accept. I spoke only when directly addressed, but remained engaged, noting how Alexander used silence as effectively as words—a tactic I filed away for future reference.
When the meeting concluded with handshakes and promises of formal contracts to follow, I felt a surprising surge of satisfaction. I'd contributed something meaningful, used my skills for more than decorative purposes in Alexander's carefully constructed world.
As the Tanaka team gathered their materials to leave, Mr. Tanaka approached me directly.
"You have an impressive understanding of our markets, Ms. Winters," he said. "It is rare to find such insight in Western analysts."
"Thank you," I replied, bowing slightly in acknowledgment of the compliment. "I've long admired Japan's economic resilience."
He smiled, seeming pleased by both my response and the gesture. "Perhaps next time you visit Tokyo, you will join us for dinner. My wife would enjoy meeting Alexander-san's... financial analyst."
The slight pause before my title, the knowing glance at the emerald ring I wore—he had recognized our engagement despite Alexander's professional framing of my role. I felt heat rise to my cheeks.
"That would be an honor," I managed.
Alexander appeared at my side, his hand coming to rest at the small of my back—a gesture that could be read as either professional courtesy or possessive claim.
"Elena would be delighted to join us," he said smoothly. "As would I."
Mr. Tanaka's smile deepened. "Excellent. Until then, Blackwood-san."
After they departed, Alexander turned to me, his expression unreadable. "You impressed them."
"I just answered their questions."
"You did more than that. Tanaka rarely extends personal invitations." His hand was still at my back, warm through the thin fabric of my suit jacket. "You helped secure this deal, Elena."
The praise sent a ridiculous flutter through my stomach. "We make a good team," I said lightly, trying to defuse the sudden tension between us.
Something shifted in Alexander's eyes—a brief flash of... what? Surprise? Agreement? Before I could decipher it, Ms. Chen entered the conference room.
"Mr. Blackwood, your eleven o'clock is waiting. And Ms. Winters, the event planner called about the engagement party. She needs decisions on the floral arrangements."
Reality crashed back like a cold wave. I wasn't Alexander's business partner or even his employee—I was his contractual fiancée, expected to plan parties and look decorative on his arm. The brief illusion of professional equality evaporated.
"I should go handle that," I said, stepping away from his touch.
Alexander frowned slightly, as if sensing my withdrawal. "We'll continue our discussion later," he said, his tone making it clear this wasn't a suggestion.
I nodded and left, the satisfaction of the morning's success already fading. It had been foolish to imagine I could be more than what our contract specified—a temporary fixture in Alexander Blackwood's life, serving a specific purpose until my usefulness expired.
Yet as I rode the elevator down to meet with the event planner, I couldn't forget the way Alexander had looked at me during the meeting—with respect, perhaps even admiration. For those brief hours, he had seen me as an equal, a valuable mind rather than a convenient arrangement.
And despite all my warnings to myself, I had liked it far too much.
