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CHAPTER 22

C hapter 22

Sebastian arrived at the Westfield Development offices early Tuesday morning, his mind still replaying the previous evening with Tessa—their dinner, their kiss, the way she’d looked at him like he might actually be worth something beyond his bank account. For the first time in years, he’d fallen asleep thinking about someone other than quarterly projections.

The illusion of happiness lasted exactly until he reached the executive floor and found Victor Thornton waiting in his office.

“Victor.” Sebastian set his briefcase down carefully, already sensing trouble in the older man’s satisfied expression. “I wasn’t expecting you this early.”

“Weren’t you?” Victor settled more comfortably into Sebastian’s chair—a deliberate power play that would have amused Sebastian under different circumstances. “I thought we should have a private conversation about your recent...distractions.”

Sebastian remained standing, unwilling to give Victor any additional advantage. “If you’re referring to the Red Lion acquisition, I’ve already explained that rushing could?—“

“Could what?” Victor’s smile was razor-thin. “Give you more time to play house with that pretty little pub owner? Really, Sebastian, did you think we hadn’t noticed?”

Heat flashed through Sebastian’s chest, but he kept his voice level. “My personal life is hardly the board’s concern.”

“Isn’t it?” Victor stood slowly, moving to the window that overlooked London’s financial district. “When your personal life directly conflicts with your fiduciary responsibilities? When it threatens your ability to lead this company effectively?”

“The Red Lion represents a tiny fraction of our portfolio. Hardly a leadership-threatening?—“

“The Red Lion,” Victor interrupted, turning back with theatrical precision, “represents exactly what I expected from Charles Westfield’s grandson. Sentiment over sense. Emotion over logic.” His voice hardened. “Your father would be ashamed.”

Sebastian’s hands clenched at his sides. “My father’s opinion is hardly relevant to current business decisions.”

“Oh, but it is.” Victor’s smile turned predatory. “You see, five years ago, when you inherited this company at twenty-eight, your father made certain...arrangements. Financial structures designed to protect the company from exactly this sort of weakness.”

Something cold settled in Sebastian’s stomach. “What arrangements?”

Victor pulled a leather portfolio from his briefcase, spreading documents across Sebastian’s desk with the care of a man laying out a winning hand. “Credit facilities. Loan guarantees. Debt instruments that your father negotiated personally with institutions I’ve maintained relationships with for decades.”

Sebastian moved closer, scanning the papers with growing dread. Names he recognized—banks, investment firms, private lenders. All carrying Westfield Development’s signature. All guaranteed by the company’s assets.

All controlled by Victor Thornton.

“This is impossible,” Sebastian said, though the documentation looked disturbingly legitimate. “I would have known about debt of this magnitude.”

“Would you?” Victor’s tone was almost conversational. “Your father was very specific about the transition. He asked me to handle the complex financial relationships while you learned the operational side. ‘Let Victor guide you through the banking arrangements,’ he said. ‘There will be time for all that boring financial detail later.’” Victor’s smile was cold. “Later never came, did it? You were so grateful for my help, so trusting of your father’s old partner.”

The numbers swam before Sebastian’s eyes. Millions in leveraged debt, callable on demand, secured by everything from the company headquarters to the smallest subsidiary holdings. If called simultaneously...

“This would cripple us,” Sebastian said quietly. “Force a restructuring, bring in outside management?—“

“Yes, it would.” Victor began collecting the papers with methodical precision. “The board would have no choice but to appoint interim leadership during the crisis. Someone with experience managing complex financial relationships.” His smile was triumphant. “Someone they trust to clean up the mess.”

Sebastian sank into the chair across from his own desk, the full scope of the trap finally visible. “What do you want?”

“What I’ve always wanted. A company run by someone who understands that business is business. Not some lovesick boy who thinks he can play knight-errant to every damsel with a hard luck story.”

“The Red Lion purchase.”

“Completed. Immediately. No more delays, no more excuses, no more time to let that woman convince you to be something other than what you are.” Victor’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “You are your father’s son, Sebastian. And your father never let emotion cloud his judgment.”

Sebastian stared at the older man, seeing him clearly for perhaps the first time. “You planned this. All of it.”

“I prepared for it,” Victor corrected. “Your father asked me to guide you, to ensure you became the leader Westfield Development needed. He knew you had...weaknesses. Romantic notions inherited from your grandfather’s side.” Victor straightened his tie with casual satisfaction. “I simply ensured those weaknesses couldn’t destroy what he built.”

“And if I refuse?”

Victor’s shrug was eloquent. “The debt gets called. The company enters crisis mode. The board removes you as CEO and installs interim leadership—namely, me—while we ‘restructure for stability.’” He paused at the office door. “Your career, your father’s legacy, your position—all gone because Sebastian Westfield chose his feelings over his responsibilities.”

Victor smiled with cold satisfaction. “But I don’t think you’ll refuse. Despite your grandfather’s influence, you’re still enough of a Westfield to do what’s necessary.”

After Victor left, Sebastian remained motionless in his chair, staring at the spot where the documents had been spread like evidence of his own naivety.

That night, Sebastian couldn’t sleep, Victor’s threats replaying endlessly in his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tessa’s face when she’d learn he’d chosen his career over their love.

He’d thought he was in control, thought he could navigate between his growing feelings for Tessa and his professional obligations.

He’d been wrong.

Victor had been playing a longer game, using Sebastian’s own father’s arrangements against him. And now his entire career, his father’s company, everything he’d worked to build—it would all be destroyed if Sebastian chose love over duty.

His phone buzzed with a text from Tessa: Thank you for last night. Still smiling.

Sebastian stared at the message until the screen went dark, then picked up his office phone to dial his assistant.

“Clear my afternoon schedule,” he told her, his voice sounding hollow even to himself. “I need to do some research.”

The only way to save everything was to find a way out of Victor’s trap. And Sebastian intended to start digging immediately.