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"Was that necessary?" she asked quietly, not looking up from her tablet. "Announcing our dinner plans to everyone, including your son?"

"Knowles’ reputation precedes him," I replied, keeping my voice equally low. "I was simply protecting a valuable business associate from unwanted advances."

Her eyes met mine then, skepticism clear in their green depths. "Is that what you were doing?"

"Not entirely," I admitted.

"The thought of him pursuing you was... unacceptable."

"Possessive, Mr. Turner." A slight smile played at the corner of her mouth, though her tone remained professional. "One might think you were staking a claim."

"Wasn't I?"

The directness of my response caught her off guard, her eyes widening slightly before she composed herself.

"We agreed to discretion. That wasn't discreet."

"I'll be more careful," I conceded. "But know this, Savannah—what's between us may need to remain private, but it is not casual to me. Not temporary. Not negotiable."

Before she could respond, Miles approached, forcing us to step apart, to resume the pretense of purely professional interest.

"Savannah, can I walk you out?" he asked, his gaze flicking between us with the first stirrings of suspicion. "I wanted to discuss a few more ideas for the campaign."

"Actually," I interjected, "Ms. Blake and I need to finalize the details of our dinner meeting. Contract specifics to discuss."

Miles frowned, his brow furrowing in an expression I recognized—frustration at being excluded, at having something he wanted placed beyond his reach.

"I didn't realize you were so personally involved in her contract negotiations," he said, an edge creeping into his voice.

"I thought that was my project."

"The Westlake marketing is your project," I corrected smoothly.

"Ms. Blake's potential relationship with Turner Holdings falls under my purview as CEO."

The double meaning wasn't lost on Savannah, whose cheeks flushed slightly even as she maintained her professional demeanor.

"It's just dinner, Miles," she said, her tone deliberately casual. "Business details that need clarification before I can commit to the project."

He didn't look convinced, but years of conditioning to defer to my authority in business matters prevailed. "Fine. But I'd like to be kept in the loop. This was my initiative."

Your initiative. Not you.

The distinction was important—critical, even. Miles might have brought Savannah into Turner Holdings' orbit, but he had no claim on her as a woman.

Had surrendered that right when he'd ended their relationship, treating her as disposable, replaceable.

Not recognizing the treasure he'd held and discarded.

"Of course," I agreed, the perfect corporate response masking the entirely inappropriate thoughts beneath. "We're all on the same team here."

Another lie.

When it came to Savannah Blake, I was on no team but my own.

Miles departed with visible reluctance, leaving Savannah and me in momentary privacy once more.

"That was dangerous," she murmured, gathering the last of her materials. "He's not stupid, Lucas. He'll start to notice if you keep interrupting his conversations with me."