Untouched Until Her Ultra-Rich Husband. Dani Collins
who Mrs. Chen’s grandson was—after Luli had informed Gabriel.
What could Luli have said, though? She doesn’t trust you. She doesn’t trust men. Mae had encouraged Luli to trust no one but her and Luli had given her the loyalty that Mae craved.
None of which changed the fact that if the butler had to fetch Luli a cup right now, he would die.
If she was a small person, she would force him to do it, but she was saving her energy for a greater revolt. A more daunting target.
“You’re very kind,” she murmured. “But that’s not necessary.”
“The bell is here if you require anything further, Mr. Dean,” the butler said, glancing darkly toward Luli before he closed the door firmly on his way out.
Gabriel waved at the arrangement of sofa and chairs, all upholstered in silk brocade, and waited for her to lower onto a cushion before he sat across from her.
Honestly, this regard he was extending to her was laughable. Her conscience writhed as she folded her hands in her lap. He was going to explode when he realized how undeserving she was of this respect.
Despite the fact she would have to take control of the discussion eventually, she waited for him to lead. There were so many ways this could go, some of them life altering—maybe even life-threatening. Her research had revealed he was a black belt in kung fu. Her morning tai chi in the courtyard with Mae and the rest of the household was no match for the lightning-fast and lethal moves he no doubt possessed.
“After signing papers at the hospital, I met with my grandmother’s attorney,” he informed her. “My power of attorney was finalized so I could assume the helm during probate. A press release has been issued to announce our connection. Legally and publicly it is accepted that I have taken possession of Chen Enterprises. Yet, when I arrived at the head office, very few of my instructions could be fully executed. I was told that every instruction and transaction goes through Luli.”
He sipped his coffee while his gaze stayed pinned on her.
“They couldn’t even run me a comprehensive list of her assets and accounts, so I could begin contacting the banks for access.”
A coal of heat burned in her center, but she said nothing, knowing that stammering out explanations when he hadn’t yet asked a question would betray her nerves.
“You realize I’m not the only person under the impression you’re a sophisticated task-management app?”
“I believe that is the impression your grandmother preferred to cultivate.”
“Why?” His voice was whip sharp. She had to concentrate not to flinch as it landed on her.
“Among other things, it forces people to express themselves in writing,” she explained in an unruffled tone. “It creates a traceable trail. She told me once that when your grandfather died, his business manager attempted to take advantage of her. She wasn’t able to prove his wrongdoing and she wasn’t able to take control of the wealth she had inherited. Not without a terrible fight.”
“Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Apparently.”
Bam-bam-bam. Her heart threatened to crack open her breastbone.
“Since then, it has been her practice to maintain tight oversight with regard to her finances. She personally approves all but the most routine transactions.”
“Does she? Because it sounds like you do.”
“She didn’t care for computers. I work under her direction.” And steered her direction, when opportunities presented, but that wasn’t important right now.
“Your actions strike me as empire building.” He crossed his legs, hitching his pants as he did. “You have made yourself indispensable in a grasp for power. I’ve seen it before, many times.”
“I have no empire,” she assured him.
His cynical look said he saw right through her, which shouldn’t cause her stomach to bottom out, but it did. He was nothing to her, but it was taking every ounce of courage she possessed to hold his gaze.
It struck her that she had never had the courage to defy Mae. What chance did that give her against someone like him?
“You live here?” The cynical twitch of his mesmerizing mouth called her a parasite.
“A room is assigned to me, yes.”
“Where did you come from?”
“Venezuela.”
“That wasn’t what I was asking, but I hear that in your accent now.” His gaze shifted as he took in her features once again. “It’s sultry. Exotic.”
He sounded vaguely mocking, which stung. Her rudimentary English, taught to her by a chaperone, had been perfected here, where Mae had learned it from a British boarding school. The staff spoke broken versions peppered with Indian, Malay and Pilipino accents.
As he stared at her, the tingle of sensual, elemental awareness shimmered around her again, disconcerting her. Logically, she presumed she could use her voice and looks to charm and distract him, but she had no practice wielding those weapons. Instead, she found herself fascinated by the subtle inflections in his voice and the slightest twitch of his lips.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“Eight years.”
“Not Singapore. In this house, employed by my grandmother.”
“I came to this house when I came to Singapore eight years ago.”
He frowned. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Were you hired as a housemaid?” He was taken aback. “How did you come to be doing high-level work like this?” He jerked his chin toward the sleeping laptop on the writing desk.
She licked her lips. How to explain?
“As I said, your grandmother found computers tiresome, but she wished to be as hands-on as possible with every facet of her business.”
“You’re her hands?”
He was skeptical, but it was true. Luli couldn’t count the number of times Mae had nudged her in the back of the shoulder and told her, Go back. Show me that again.
“I perform various confidential tasks at her direction.”
“Bank transfers, stock purchases...?”
“Yes. If a broker or middleman is used, I follow up after transmitting requests to ensure the task has been completed. I compile background information on potential employees and business partners, assist her in reviewing performance reports and run random secondary checks on various budgets and accounts, helping spot discrepancies that could point to misuse.”
“People love audits, especially random ones. I bet you’re very popular.” He was being sarcastic.
“A necessary evil” was probably the kindest thing she’d been called, usually in an email chain not meant for her eyes.
Was she evil? She would have called her mother that, until she had been backed into a corner herself and now had to think about how she would survive.
“As you say, most people think I’m a computer program. I’ve never concerned myself much with whether people like me so long as your grandmother was satisfied with my work.”
A small lie. She would love a friend, a real one, not an old woman who had forgotten what it was like to be young and curious about the world. One who was scared to let her see any of it, in case it made her leave.
“On the topic of programs,” she said, feeling clammy sweat break on her palms. “It might interest you to know that your grandmother requested