The Billionaire’s Pawn

LONDON

There was just something about Striker Cade when he smiled. He lit up the entire place. He was like the moon, those stars in the night.

When he entered my home office, just like that, he shone the brightest. He was just full of life.

“Are you going out tonight, Vanderford?”

“Going somewhere, Cade?”

“No, ma’am.” He instantly lifted his gaze, meeting mine. “Sorry.”

“Take a seat.”

“Thank you.” He did sit on the couch.

“I just wanna ask your honest opinion.”

“Sure. Are you sure I’m the right person you should be asking for an opinion?”

“I don’t know. You’re a guy.”

“The last time I checked, yes, ma’am.” There was a hint of wickedness in his words. Was he flirting with me?

I gave him the iPad. “Check these designs. Choose at least three of which you think are good.”

“Designs? Clothing design? You’re asking my opinion?” His eyes widened, surprised and amused.

“Just check those damn things, Cade.”

He tried hard to hide his smile, arching a brow at me.

“Fine. Give it back.” I urged him to give me the iPad back as I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Easy, Vanderford.” He leaned back, crossed his legs, and scanned through the details.

I watched his judgment earnestly, but I couldn’t read his expression.

“Do you just design clothes?”

“Right now, yeah? Why?”

“Some people never show their design to others.”

“It’s not that you’re gonna steal my ideas.”

“Maybe I will.” He went through page after page and still had no verdict.

“That bad, huh? Seen similar designs out there?”

“Is this for Autumn?”

“How do you know?”

“The colors, obviously the designs, the cut.”Hmm. I’m impressed.

“Yeah.”

“You’re good. Not just a pretty face after all.”

I shot him a look. “I’ll try hard not to get insulted by what you just said.”

Then there we go-that smile and his teeth were perfect and naturally white. “Poor Magnus. His big loss.”

“Can we not talk about that jerk again?”

He lifted his gaze to meet mine, eyes glittering. “Gladly.”

“So?” I gestured to tell me the judgment.

“I’m guessing these are for all sizes.”

“You’ve never gone to the LH in-stores or checked online, have you?”

“Yeah.” At least he was honest.

“Yes. And we are using eco-friendly material, and most are recyclable from other Vanderford products.”

“Your designs are exceptional, Vanderford. I’m proud of you.”

I raised my brow, speechless.

“Yes. These designs are you. Hundred-percent London Vanderford.”

“Thank you. It means a lot.” I went back to the laptop and finalized the report. And then he picked up the pencil and started scribbling on the screen.

“Thank you for asking my opinion.”

“I trust your judgment, Cade.” My words seemed to stop him from whatever he was doing.

“You owe me dinner.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

***

“Vanderford.” He came from behind me in the dining area.

“Join me for dinner.” I looked at my side. Striker was tall, around six feet and two or three inches to my five-seven, and I still had to crane my neck to meet his gaze when I was sitting.

There was a surprised look on his face. He was wearing a suit-to-impress. I knew his dad owned Cade Premium, but I still didn’t understand why he chose a bodyguard job, which was too risky, in my opinion.

“Please?” I gestured for him to sit to my right.

“Um,” he hesitated.

“We’re just gonna eat dinner, Cade. The dinner I owed you. Remember?”

“Yeah.” A small smile appeared on his full red lips. “I was about to ask if I could take off my gun because I was starving and about to order Chinese.” He rounded to my right and gladly took a seat.

“We can have Chinese next time.”

“Looking forward to that.” He grabbed the table napkin and placed it on his lap. “Do you eat Chinese, Vanderford?”

“I do.”

“Good.” The look on his face was funny at first, then turned into a full-blown smile as my chef placed down the plate for him. “My favorite. Creamy steak fettuccine.”

“Bon appetit.” I chose a light meal tonight- the balsamic grilled steak arugula salad with blue cheese and peaches.

“Bon appetit.”

When we started our dinner, I felt like we had just had a date with light music in the background, and my chef brought a ten-year-old red wine.

He took a first bite. “Thank you. The food is delicious.” I liked that he complimented the chef, unlike Magnus. And here I was, comparing them. I couldn’t help it.

Magnus had to say something, and I didn’t know if he was trying to impress my dad or me, but he enjoyed showing off sometimes. Maybe that was one of the reasons why Dad never liked him.

“My pleasure, sir,” my chef said.

He sipped the wine, and then he looked at me. “You must be so bored to eat alone.”

I smiled, playing along. “Yeah. And I don’t enjoy eating reheated food. Imagine a reheated pizza.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. And reheated Chinese and fries. It gets too soggy.” He picked up the glass again. “And this is a fine wine, Vanderford.”

“Oh, don’t get that idea that I open a bottle of wine because I plan to invite you to join me for dinner.”Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“Oh, no.” He was beaming as he shook his head. He looked so genuinely enjoying this conversation. “I was about to ask if I could have another glass.”

I hadn’t laughed this strongly for a long time, and tears formed in my eyes. I had to take the napkin on my lap and cover my mouth as I laughed so hard.

“You can have the whole bottle after this dinner, Cade. Don’t worry. I won’t charge you.” When I calmed down, I started eating again. The salad was so good, with just a good amount of dressing.

“So kind of you.” He seemed to enjoy his meal. I guessed that was really his favorite. I called his dad and asked about some of the food his son enjoyed, and Tate was delighted to share them with me.

“I know you don’t drink while you work, but the cellar is always open for you. Just no bringing of friends here.”

“Friends?” His brow arched.

“You know what I mean.” I shrugged. I hope so. “Women friends.” I cleared his throat. I had been dying to know if he was dating someone. I mean, he’d been working for me for more than a week, and he just worked like clockwork. He never mentioned a woman in his life or talked about something personal. He was focused-too focused that maybe even if I stood naked in front of him, he wouldn’t ever get distracted.

“I would never mix my work with pleasure. I mean, bringing women here in your house. I have a good work ethic. I think that’s why your father chose me.” When his mood soured, I instantly regretted bringing this up.

“I know.” I put my fork down. “I have no doubt.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not gonna happen while I’m your bodyguard.” He chuckled sadly.

It suddenly piqued my curiosity. “What’s not gonna happen?”

“In my line of work, I can’t get too attached to someone. It would be unfair if I couldn’t be with her and give her the attention she needs.”

“So you would never date someone?” My words came out harsh and vain. “That sucks.”

He sighed in dismay. “Right now. It’s not my priority.”

“But you will continue working in the firm all your life.”

“No. I have plans. My work here is only temporary and probably my last. My dad will eventually grow old and retire from working in the company. And I will get bored too. There will be recruits in the firm. But running a company is not really my cup of tea, but when there’s no alternative. I’m more of an investor kind of guy. Well, since I came back, I haven’t sat down and talked with my dad about it. I’m just going with the flow right now.”

We sat in the family room as I told him about my childhood. I loved colors and shapes, but this room was comfy and homey.

Another bottle of wine arrived.

“I can’t have another glass, Vanderford.”

“I denied your refusal. You should have a glass. You’re off tonight, and we’re here sitting as friends.”

“You’re lightheaded, aren’t you?” He watched me as I rubbed my temple, refusing my offer.

“I’m not drunk. Take this.” I forced him, and we tossed and sipped our wine.

“After that, you will be. And I can’t get drunk until you are safe in bed.”

“You won’t let anything happen to me, my white knight.”

“Okay.” His blinked off. His forehead contorted. “Something is wrong.” He quickly tapped his pocket and searched for something. “Vanderford?” Now he sounded worried.

“Um, Striker. I feel drowsy.”

“I know, London.” That was the last image I saw before my lids fluttered close. He pulled me closer as he quickly dialed someone on his phone.

“I think I-I’m-”

“It’s the wine. Fuck!”