The heavy mahogany doors of the study clicked shut, sealing Patrick and Valeria inside a room that smelled of old parchment. The walls were lined with books so thick they looked like they could stop a bullet.
Patrick stood near the center of the room. He remembered the manual: Maintain an air of casual indifference.
This is it, the stage in which he gonna finally perform, Patrick found himself surprisingly able to control his words. It was as if he was he found himseld in front of the class and presenting a research study.
"So," he began, his voice cracking slightly before he lowered. "The logistical synergies. Or did you just want to get me alone so you could point another antique at my head?"
Valeria paused briefly, walking toward a large, ornate desk that had polished oak. She sat down, like a queen, her emerald skirt spilling over the leather chair.
"Sit, Patrick," she commanded, gesturing to the chair opposite her.
Patrick sat. He tried to do it with the 'High Society' grace he'd practiced, but his knees hit the underside of the desk with a loud thwack. He winced, maintainting his gaze to her even though his kneecap felt like it had been hit by Reidward's slap.
"I've been thinking about your internal upgrade," Valeria said, her eyes tracing the line of his jaw again. "And that little stunt in the foyer. You're different. The old Patrick would have been stuttering about gear ratios by now. You called me 'quaint.'"
"Maybe I just realized that life is too short to be boring," Patrick deflected, his "rizz" energy flaring up as a defense mechanism.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "Now, about that land deal. My butler mentioned a hundred by hundred plot. I think we both know that was just a... conversation starter."
Reidward, suddenly losing his drunken sway, stood by the desk. He placed a silver embossed leather folder on the surface. "The contract for the hundred by hundred square meters of North Rim land, Lady Valeria."
"Surveyed, deeded, and ready for your mark." Reidward then took a fleeting glance to both his young master and the young lady in front of him before exiting the personal study.
Valeria's eyes sharpened. This was the game she knew. "Indeed. A hectare of dirt is an insult to the Bidi Company. You want the northern ridge, don't you? The one near the well."
Patrick had no idea what or how valuable the well was. He assumed it wasn't a place to get water. He nodded slowly, trying to look like a mastermind. "The ridge has potential. For things beyond mere clocks."
Valeria leaned in, her perfume, it had an intoxicating, dangerous lily scent, filling his senses. "The ridge is crown property, Patrick. To give it to a merchant family, even one as influential as yours, would require a marriage contract that is ironclad.
"I would not want you to leave because I insult your drunkard butler. It would be ideal that you have no second thoughts."
She reached across the desk, her fingers hovering near his hand. "And it would require you to be more than just a handsome face. I need to know you can handle the political fallout when the other Dukes realize I've given a merchant the key to the city's power grid."
Patrick felt his cock stir again. The power, the scent, the danger. It was a cocktail he wasn't built to handle. He thought of the etiquette manual: State your purpose.
From reading the colorful noble manual that was for kids, he understood some concepts of what a duke is, a male rich aristocrat, and, adding his earth knowledge, they're mostly fighting for who gets the girl in most made up stories.
"My purpose," Patrick said, his voice dropping to a low one, "is to make sure the Bidi Company is untouchable. And if that means I have to be the 'monster' you saw earlier to keep those Dukes in line... then I'll be that monster."
The monster that Patrick is referring to is the one that choked the Young lady, which is pretty fucked up.
Valeria's breath hitched. For a second, the mask of the bitchy aristocrat slipped, revealing a girl who was genuinely, terrifyingly attracted to the man who had almost choked the life out of her.
"Alright," she whispered. She pulled a heavy, wax sealed scroll from a drawer and slid it across the desk. "Sign this. It's a preliminary merger. It gives you the ridge, and it gives me a controlling interest in your new prototypes. The ones you were building before the accident."
Patrick looked at the scroll. It was a sea of legal jargon. He looked at Valeria. She was watching him like a hawk.
He picked up a fountain pen, his hand steadying. He had zero knowledge or any know how, even how to build a clock that ran on lightning or whatever, but he knew one thing. If he didn't sign this, he was just a guy in a suit. If he did sign it, he was a player.
He signed his name he had inherited with a flourish.
Valeria took the paper, her eyes gleaming. "Excellent. Now, since we are officially partners in progress..."
She stood up and walked around the desk, stopping right in front of him. She leaned down, her face inches from his, her red hair falling like a curtain around them.
"Show me 'that' again, Husband," she breathed, her hand moving to his tie. "I want to see if you can be just as articulate without the insults."
Patrick's world tilted. This had become better than he expected, he knew that hew was supposed to reach out and hold her, but he pauses for a moment.
With his lack of experience in understanding legal jargons, he somehow made it out by feeling the actions. The words out of Valeria's mouth for Patrick was as good as trash that was simply there to be filled, because he did not understand it and would throw it away without much thought.
What did she mean by 'that.' Does she mean my charm, cause by the context it feels like it.
Remembering the word, 'read between the lines' he noticed Valeria's expectant eyes during his pause. Somehow, he understood it by vibe.
He reached out, his hand finding her waist, pulling her closer until her silk dress was pressed against his trousers. He could feel the seven inch "upgrade" thudding against her thigh.
"Valeria," he whispered, his heart screaming. "I think the studying part of the day is over."