CHAPTER 292: LION’S DEN

This was risky. Some would call it stupid and they wouldn’t be very wrong. It was like a sheep stepping into a gathering of wolves, or a lone warrior migrating into enemy territory.

For Darren, he intended to make it more like Daniel thrown into the lion’s den.

All of these women had their reasons to be madly outraged by him. To claw his face with their manicured fingernails, or thwack his head to the side with slaps from their delicate palms.

But he fully planned to keep them in line. No matter what, he wasn’t going to let his own emotions get in the way. He would rather world it as more of a weapon to get what he wants.

And what he wanted was all of these women.

All of them.

At least the ones who wanted to stay.

For a long moment, a charged silence followed his "welcome." It was almost like a living thing, thick and heavy with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and shattered expectations.

Eleven pairs of eyes were locked on him, a gallery of exquisite pain and fury. Darren Steele met the storm head-on, his face not a mask of charm, but of stark, unvarnished intensity.

The multiple dinging of notifications sang in his head, declaring to him the various emotional states of the women before him.

┏This person is outraged to see you┛

┏This person is relieved to see you ┛

┏This person is terrified by your presence┛

┏This person is humored by the situation┛

Even more than that, the system’s other frantic warnings about dips and rises in their separate Romance Radars were a fire in his peripheral vision.

But Darren chose to bank it, focusing on the cold, precise strategy he had built in the quiet, desperate hours of the night. And on the very women he was in front of.

No matter how low their affections were for him, he knew he could bring it back up. He understood now.

In the end, romance and feelings weren’t any much different from business.

This wasn’t too dissimilar to making a business deal. In the end, weren’t all relationships transactional?

See, Darren had studied them, each one, not as liabilities or assets, but as the most complex and rewarding markets he had ever encountered.

Now, he had to merge them into a single, thriving ecosystem.

A harem.

Sandy, still on her feet, was the first to speak. She was almost teary, looking at Darren like he had broken her heart.

In a way, he had. He did leave her alone in the restaurant. On a date. That he invited her in. To talk to another woman. So yes, he broke her heart.

"You..." Her voice broke, her eyes sad. "Why are you doing this, Darren. Why are you treating me this way? Like I’m a... toy. In your game?"

Darren looked at her, even though guilt ate him up, he wanted to be stern. Maybe find a way to mix it up with compassion.

That one he had mastered in front of a mirror after a lot of training last night. Women loved stern men, however, they wouldn’t want them to be completely emotionally daft.

Darren had found a fitting middle after much training.

"I completely understand how I feel, Sandy," he said cautiously, though his voice was cool. "I owe you more than that and all of this will make sense soon. But please, take a seat."

He looked at the other women who had gotten on their feet to leave.

"All of you."

The command was not a shout. It was low, a vibration of pure authority that cut through their anger, hurt and other influx of emotions like a scalpel.

His eyes, dark and utterly focused, glanced at each of the women, all whom he had delicate histories with, until they all carefully returned to their seats.

One by one.

Obedient. Loyal.

Darren had successfully deescalated the situation. He had gotten what he wanted too. All of them around a table.

His gaze swept this said table, meeting each woman’s eyes, reading their stories in the lines of their postures — the hurt, the betrayal, the bewildered hope.

He caught the amused smile on her Cheyenne’s face. Out of everyone, he expected her to be a bit irritated by this setup. But she seemed to be entertained.

When he thought of it, Darren had come to know Cheyenne as a bit more unconventional. Perhaps in her life of boredom and meetings, things such as this added spice and intrigue to her life.

And... he still owed her a favor.

Darren’s eyes moved on to Rachel, lingered for a moment. He could tell that she always knew what this was. The only question that bothered him was why then did she come?

Did she intend to sabotage it? Or was she truly willing to hear what he had to say.

All of the women here, he could tell at what time in their relationships with him that they began to have these feelings for him.

Rachel; when he saved her from Gareth Smithers.

Kara; when he took her in as his first ally.

Sandy; after nights together eating and talking in Castle Cottage.

Olivia; ever since highschool, and then in the car after the meeting with Archibald Mooney.

Amelia; during their deal making with Trendteller.

Penelope; after he saved her from the Shooters restaurant.

Miranda; perhaps the mere act of hiring her.

Daisy: when they worked together to save Grant Hayes.

Tamara; helping her get rid of Ryan Anders.

Ileana; saving her from the Lotus Triad.

For Cheyenne, he believed she had a romantic interest in him, not actual feelings.

But then again, he could be wrong. She might be a ruthless business woman, but she still had a heart. Be it made of steel.

The goal now however, was to culminate this women’s feelings for him into one big relationship.

It seemed impossible.

"First, I want to thank you all for coming here," he began, his voice a calm, resonant baritone that demanded absolute attention. "And then I want to apologize for the manner I had to take to bring you here. Even though it is telling of your true feelings towards me and the very reason why this is important, it was manipulative and I apologize."

The women shared brief glances at each other, but mainly maintained eye contact with Darren.

Ding!

┏These women have accepted your apology┛

Darren was satisfied by his handling of that, and so he moved on.

"This isn’t just about apologizing, though. Be it for what I did now or what I did in the past."

Some of their expressions tightened.

"This isn’t a negotiation either," he continued. Or the pathetic fantasy of a man who got greedy."

He saw the accusations in their eyes, the truth of his words. Sandy’s jaw was clenched so tight he feared a tooth might crack. Penelope’s face held back a tear. Kara looked like a kicked puppy, her vibrant energy utterly deflated.

"This is something much more important," he stated, finality in his tone. "In fact, this is the most important pitch I will ever make. And you are not my audience. You are my proposed executive team."

The phrase hung in the air, bizarre and intriguing.

Cheyenne, who had been watching with the amused detachment of a cat observing mice, raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. A flicker of genuine interest.

"You feel anger. Betrayal. Confusion," he continued, his tone analytical, yet not devoid of empathy. It was the voice of a diagnostician stating symptoms.

"These are correct, and predictable, responses. I engineered this... profound discomfort... because comfort breeds complacency. What I am about to propose requires you to be stripped bare of your assumptions. It requires you to think, not just react."

Kara spoke up. "You say this is not a meeting, but it’s quickly starting to sound like one."

Darren looked at her, his gaze indifferent. "Just let me finish, Kara."

Realizing herself, she softened her face and sat back. Like she was apologizing with her gestures.

Darren’s eyes slowly found Rachel again. Her expression was a complex tapestry of professional comprehension and deep, personal hurt.

"Some of you might see what I’m doing as ’damage control,’" he said, and for her, his voice softened almost imperceptibly, a personal acknowledgment. "It is. But it is also a feasibility study. And the results are unequivocal. The project is not only viable; it is necessary. You... You are all necessary."

He took a slow, deliberate step along the head of the table, his presence commanding the space. "Ever since my rise— as fast as it was, I’ve had enemies and I’ve had allies, and I could not have been what I am now without either of them.

"Especially you all." He placed his hands on the table, his gaze intensifying. "You women have been part and parcel of my journey. You are important to me, to my business and to myself. To my heart."

Silence stretched.

Reactions came from all the women. Licking of lips, tightening of brows, lowering of heads.

"Now, I can’t stand the idea of losing any of you merely because I can not give you that part of me you ask for." He stood straight, looking at Rachel, Sandy, and Penelope.

Then Olivia... Kara.

"There’s only one of me, and if making a decision means I lose any of you, then why would I ever make one?"

He sunk his hand into his pockets, and it seemed he was finally arriving at his grand idea. His pitch.