Strangers To Lovers

Chapter Twenty

I glanced at Channing, who stood awkwardly by my desk, phone in hand. His eyes flickered to mine, uncertain. "Your mother’s trying to reach you," he said, his voice hesitant, like he was wary of disturbing me.

A sudden jolt of alertness hit me. I straightened in my chair, clearing my throat. "Why didn't she call me directly?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Channing gave a small shrug, quickly muting his phone. "She knows you won’t answer."

I sighed, pressing my hand to my temple. "Is she back?"

He hesitated. "I think so. She probably noticed you changed the locks."

A heavy sense of dread settled in my stomach. Of course she noticed. Muttering a curse, I reluctantly took the phone from Channing and unmuted it. "Yes, Mother?"

"Were you sleeping?" Her voice was sharp, accusatory.

I gritted my teeth. "No."

My desk was cluttered with papers—plans for new offices, promotions, and personnel issues. Everything seemed to be piling up. The last thing I needed was another lecture from her.

"Have you heard about the earthquake in California?" she asked. "Or the employee getting fired?"

I cut her off, feeling a headache building behind my eyes. "Yes, I’ve heard. I’ll handle it." I shot a glare at Channing, who raised his hands defensively.

"They had the lowest performance," Channing mouthed, echoing my thoughts. My mother's expectations never let up.

"Luke, I don’t think you should be coddling underperformers just because—"

"I said I’ll handle it," I snapped, tightening my grip on the phone. "That’s not why you’re calling, is it?"

She paused for a moment, and I could practically feel her disapproval through the phone. "No. I called to remind you about dinner tomorrow night."

I frowned. "Dinner?"

"Michelangelo’s. Eight sharp. Dress nicely."

My blood ran cold. "Why?" I asked, my voice low with suspicion.

"The daughter of Cecil Castrilli will be joining you. I've arranged a date for the two of you."

Great. Another one of my mother’s schemes. I bit the inside of my cheek, resisting the urge to throw the phone across the room. "A date?"

"Yes," she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Don’t screw it up. This is important for the company."

I ran a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to argue. "Mother, I already told you—"

"You don’t have a girlfriend," she cut in, her voice laced with finality. "And no, Ella doesn’t count."

Her words hit me like a slap. My grip on the phone tightened. "What’s wrong with Ella?"

"You’re not serious, are you?" she snapped. "That girl is a temporary distraction, Luke. Someone you’re stringing along for appearances, nothing more. The future of the company requires a real partnership, not whatever it is you’re doing with her."

I stayed silent, biting back my retort. She was wrong about Ella, but arguing with her would get me nowhere. She always had a way of pushing me into a corner, reminding me that my position, my inheritance, hinged on her approval.

"Luke, do you want to be CEO or not?" she pressed. "Sometimes sacrifices need to be made."

My jaw clenched as her words sank in. She knew exactly which buttons to push, which strings to pull. I wanted to fight back, to tell her I wasn’t her pawn, but I bit my tongue. I needed this. I needed to secure my place in the company.