Page 3 of Logan (The Valeur Billionaires #1)

Chapter Two

LOGAN

I press the intercom button to summon my personal assistant, but there’s no response. Is it really so difficult to find competent employees these days?

And yet, Liam insists that I’m the problem.

Buzzing again yields the same silence.

We’re in the middle of a damn workday.

I open the office door with a strong pull, just in time to catch her rushing out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee in her hand. Shit, I can’t remember her name.

“You,” I snap, narrowing my eyes.

She freezes in her tracks, a splash of coffee dropping onto the floor. “Yes, Mr. Valeur?” Her voice trembles.

“If you step away from your desk, you need to take the mobile extension with you,” I point out, gesturing toward the phone on her desk. “I shouldn’t have to go searching for you. ”

Her pupils dilate as she stammers, “I–I was just making coffee?—”

“I don’t care,” I cut her off. “When I call, you answer. Got it?” Honestly, how difficult is it?

She nods, her gaze flickering between me and the spilled coffee on the floor, all the while avoiding my eyes.

“I need you to book my trip to London next week. Arrange the private plane, accommodations, and driver. And please make an appointment for me with the owner of Wolfson Electronics. His details are in the file.”

Closing the deal with him in person is crucial. He needs to see my dedication. I must show growth before the analysts’ forecast is published, or the stock will plummet.

Dad reminded me of this earlier this week—as if I needed the reminder. After all, I’m still the one running Valeur-Tech.

“Yes, Sir. Accommodations in…?”

“In the company apartment. Read the file. I don’t have time to waste on explanations,” I retort, closing the door behind me with a firm click. Sinking into my chair, I massage my temples, trying to ease the throbbing pain in my forehead.

Every week brings a new assistant, each seemingly without training or a clue. I can’t afford to train them from scratch every single time. They should be saving me time, not wasting it.

I’ll have to call HR again and give them a piece of my mind, ensuring they send a more qualified candidate next time.

My office door creaks open.

“Not now,” I mutter, keeping my eyes closed.

“Logan. ”

I straighten, meeting the cool gaze of my younger brother. “Liam.”

“Headache again?” Liam drops into the chair opposite me, stretching his legs onto the desk, ignoring my irritated expression. “You really should see a doctor.”

“I need people to do their jobs.”

He snorts. “Your assistant outside looks like she’s about to cry. She’s sitting there, muttering to herself and sniffling. What did you do to her?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Nothing. I just told her to arrange the trip to London, and not to bother me with the details. Is that too much to ask? After all, she is my assistant.”

He smiles. “It’s not what you ask for, it’s how you ask it. Did you say ‘please’?”

I purse my lips, choosing to ignore his teasing. “Why are you in my office, making a mess of my desk?” I ask, nudging his legs off the desktop.

“Dad’s asked us to come to dinner.”

I sigh, feeling the weight of another obligation added to my already overflowing schedule. Dad always relays the message through Liam because he knows Liam won’t refuse.

“When?” I ask.

“Tomorrow evening.”

“What about Lucas?”

“He’s not going to fly back from Hong Kong for a meal if that’s what you’re asking. He’s still busy closing the deal with the Shengshi Construction Group.”

“If Dad knew what he was really up to over there, he’d demand Lucas’ immediate return.”

“Which is exactly why it’s a good thing Lucas’ motives remain in the dark.” Liam raises an eyebrow. “And you won’t be the one to enlighten our father, will you?”

“Of course not. I rather enjoy seeing Dad live in his bubble, believing Lucas is running the real estate company and not behaving like a rabbit in heat.”

“Cynicism suits you, bro,” Liam says with a smirk.

“Is Cora coming to dinner?”

“I guess so.”

“Great. I need her help with something.”

“Please, let’s not turn dinner into a business affair,” Liam insists, twirling a pen on my desk.

“I just need to discuss a few details with her before my trip. She’s familiar with Wolfson, having planned his wedding. She’ll know how to persuade him?—”

“She knows everyone. That’s Cora. But business discussions at dinner are a no-go. Got it?”

“Yes, Commander.” I salute him. “Maybe you could accompany me to London? I’ll need all the support I can muster to seal this deal.”

“And who will be left to intimidate the staff?” Liam chuckles, and I scoff.

“You’re hardly intimidating. It’s a wonder you achieve anything with all your kindness and smiles.”

“Yes, I forgot. You’d prefer a constant turnover of employees, with never-ending recruiting and retraining.”

“I was down there just last week, and no one resigned.”

He shakes his head. “And you made a fine show with the slamming of doors. I’m sure there are some who are considering leaving, which is exactly why I forbade you to go down there. ”

“You can’t forbid me to go down. That’s my favorite foreplay.” I wink.

“I really didn’t need to know that,” Liam says, shaking his head.

“But it’s good to know that somewhere inside you, you still have a sense of humor.

” Then he smirks and leans forward. “Are you even fucking anymore? I can’t recall the last time I saw you with a woman.

Has there been anyone since Georgina, or did she castrate you? Can you even get a hard-on?”

I throw a pen at him, but he dodges it. “That’s none of your business. Now go away and let me work.”

I rise from my chair, stride to the office door, and push him out. An employee nearby glances our way, and I meet his gaze, sending him scurrying off.

If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.

I step through the grand double doors of my father's sprawling mansion, the click of my shoes echoing off the polished marble floors.

The housekeeper greets me with a nod. “He's in the living room, Mr. Valeur.”

I slip off my designer loafers, sinking into the soft embrace of luxurious house slippers as I make my way down the long, art-lined hallway. Priceless paintings and glittering chandeliers showcase the family's immense wealth at every turn.

I find Dad seated in his favorite wingback chair, nursing a tumbler of scotch. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a stunning view of the manicured grounds, but he pays them no mind, his steely gaze fixed on me as I enter.

“Hey, Dad.” I settle onto the sofa opposite him, the buttery leather sighing beneath my weight. “How are you?”

“I didn’t ask you here to talk about me,” Dad says, dodging the question as usual. “How are you, Logan? It’s been so long since you’ve been here that I’ve forgotten what you look like.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “It's only been a couple of weeks, Dad. No need for exaggeration. Managing Valeur-Tech keeps me busy, as you well know. Besides, we talk every day on the phone.”

If you can call it talking. Our daily conversations are more like him barking orders and me obediently listening. As the head of Valeur Industries, overseeing Valeur-Tech, Valeur Real Estate, and Valeur Capital, he's not just my father, but my boss. And he runs a tight ship.

Dad swirls the amber liquid in his glass, his expression calculating. “What about the Wolfson deal?”

“I’m working on it.”

He rolls his tongue over his teeth and frowns. “London?”

“Next week.”

He nods, momentarily appeased, then peers behind me as if expecting someone else to materialize. “Did you bring a date?”

I nearly scoff. “No, I'm not seeing anyone at the moment.”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. "You're not getting any younger, Son. When I was your age, I already had four children. "

I force myself not to roll my eyes. "I'm only thirty-five, Dad. Hardly over the hill."

It's not that I'm opposed to love, but rather that love seems vehemently opposed to me. There's no shortage of women eager to throw themselves at a Valeur, drawn by our family name and hefty bank accounts.

But I can spot the dollar signs gleaming in their eyes from a mile away, and I refuse to be played for a fool again. My brother Lucas may revel in the endless parade of gold-digging bed-warmers, but I have no taste for it anymore.

I’d rather invest my time in the company than in fake relationships. The one I had with Georgina was enough for a lifetime. Hell, I’m still paying for that mistake.

I clear my throat, determined to change the subject. “Actually, Dad, I had an idea about installing road cameras to detect drunk drivers?—”

“No. Absolutely not,” he says, cutting me off with a sharp slash of his hand.

Frustration flares in my chest, but I push it down. “Just hear me out.”

“Son, I know you mean well. Wanting to make the world a better place is admirable.

But Valeur-Tech is focused on innovative medical devices.

We can't just jump into a totally unrelated field on a whim.

We don't have the right infrastructure or expertise. It would be like launching an entirely new company from scratch.”

“That's not true," I argue, leaning forward. "There's actually a lot of overlap in the underlying tech?—”

“Hey, Dad.” Cora's chipper voice cuts through the tension as she breezes into the room, all sunshine and smiles. She leans down to press a kiss on Dad's cheek, and his expression immediately softens.

All she needs to do is smile to get whatever she wants from him.

She plops down next to me on the sofa and pins me with a grin. I know that look.

She's up to something.

I narrow my eyes in mock suspicion. “What’s going on, Peanut?”

“What’s going on, Big Brother?” She tilts her head and continues to stare at me as if I’ve suddenly grown horns.

“Okay, what?”

“Have you read a newspaper lately?”