THE HEIR VS FEMALE CEO

Chapter 3 – Into the Lion’s Den

Night draped itself over the city like black silk, the skyline glittering with ambition and secrets.

Sébastien stood outside Le Rivage, the kind of private club where entry wasn’t bought with money but with lineage and power. He had passed it countless times, always as an outsider. Tonight, the doorman greeted him by name.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of aged whiskey and Cuban cigars. A string quartet played in a corner, the soft hum of conversation filling the space. Men and women in tailored suits and designer dresses occupied the velvet booths, their eyes sharp behind polite smiles. Deals were made here, the kind that could topple governments or build empires.

Matthieu was waiting at a corner table, a glass of deep amber liquid before him. His expression was calm, but there was an edge in his eyes, as if tonight was not about pleasantries.

“You’re on time,” Matthieu said as Sébastien slid into the seat opposite him.

“You told me this was important.”

“It is,” Matthieu replied, setting his glass down. “Tonight, you meet the people who will shape and test your future. Watch them closely, because they will be watching you.”

A server appeared, pouring a measure of dark liquor into a crystal glass for Sébastien. He took a sip, smooth, with a burn that lingered.

Matthieu leaned back. “You’ve lived quietly for too long. You’ve let others believe you’re harmless. But in this world, the harmless are eaten alive. Tonight, you will show them you are not prey.”

Sébastien said nothing, his mind a steel trap around the words, The first to approach was a tall, silver-haired man in an immaculate navy suit.

“Ah, so this is the son,” the man said, his tone a blend of curiosity and challenge. “Jacques Lefèvre. Your father and I go back a long way.”

Sébastien shook his hand, grip firm. “I’ve heard the name.”

Jacques smiled thinly. “I imagine you’ll be hearing it more often. The question is whether we’ll be allies… or competitors.” It wasn’t a question at all, it was a warning.

Over the next hour, more faces emerged from the shadows, each introduction laced with subtle probes, each conversation a delicate duel in politeness.

There was Isabelle Duroc, head of a powerful shipping conglomerate, whose eyes missed nothing; Victor Marin, a real estate tycoon whose grin was as fake as his tan; and Henri Duval, a man whispered to have connections in places far darker than the boardroom.

Matthieu let Sébastien navigate them alone, speaking only when necessary, watching as his son learned to measure words like currency.

At one point, Sébastien stepped out to the balcony, the cold air clearing his thoughts. Below, the river glimmered under the city lights. “You handle yourself well,” a voice said from behind him.

He turned to find Isabelle Duroc leaning against the railing, cigarette in hand. She took a slow drag, eyes assessing him.

“But you’re still an unknown,” she continued. “And in this world, the unknown is dangerous. People will want to test you. Break you. Find your limits.”

Sébastien met her gaze. “Let them try.”

Her lips curved, almost approving. “We’ll see.”

Back inside, Matthieu introduced the final guest, a man Sébastien had not expected to see here. Luc Tremblay. The same Luc who had been in the hotel suite with Jenna two nights ago, Luc’s surprise was fleeting, replaced by a mask of charm. “Sébastien. Didn’t expect to see you in a place like this.”

“Likewise,” Sébastien replied, voice cool.

Matthieu’s eyes flicked between them but said nothing. Luc smirked. “Well, I suppose we’ll be seeing more of each other. Business has a way of making… strange bedfellows.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of calculated words and silent observations. By midnight, Matthieu rose. “It’s time.”

They left through a private exit, stepping into the chill night air. A black limousine waited at the curb, As the car pulled away, Matthieu spoke without looking at him. “You did well tonight. But now comes the hard part.”

“And what’s that?”

Matthieu’s gaze shifted to the city outside. “Proving to everyone in that room that you belong and crushing the ones who think you don’t.”

The limousine stopped in front of a building Sébastien didn’t recognize, sleek, windowless, and guarded by men in discreet black suits.

“This,” Matthieu said, “is where the real business happens.”

They stepped inside, descending two flights into a private vault-like room. In the center sat a polished mahogany table, papers and contracts neatly arranged.

“This company,” Matthieu explained, “is a controlling stake in a logistics empire. With it, you control ports, shipping routes, and the flow of goods in and out of half the continent. I’m signing it over to you.”

Sébastien froze. “Why?”

“Because,” Matthieu said evenly, “if you’re going to survive in this world, you need power real, tangible power. And this is your first piece.”

Sébastien stared at the stack of documents. His name already typed neatly on the ownership line.

“This isn’t charity,” Matthieu added. “With it comes responsibility, and enemies. And one of them is already moving against you.”

“Who?”

Matthieu’s lips curved in something between a smile and a warning. “Luc Tremblay.”