Chapter 14
[ 1,000 words ]
Julian’s POV
I sat at the head of the long mahogany conference table, one leg crossed over the other, the Manhattan skyline glittering behind me like a bed of diamonds. The Windsor Empire’s 83rd-floor boardroom rarely saw the weight of silence. Usually, it was filled with noise, strategy updates, global rollouts, and merger debates. But today, it was quiet.
Because today, I was waiting for her. I was waiting for Grandma Celesta.
She didn’t usually get involved in operations. Ever since I took over as CEO, she’d stayed in the background, sipping her tea, sitting in her rose garden, throwing the occasional pointed glance when I brought a date to family brunch. But in business? She trusted me.
That’s why her involvement now made me pause.
Zane, seated beside me and spinning a Montblanc pen between his fingers, looked equally amused and annoyed. “You know she’s about to make this weird, right p>
“Everything she does is weird,” I said, loosening my tie. “But this… this is different p>
He smirked. “You mean because she handpicked a tech vendor without even consulting you p>
I glanced at the portfolio sitting on the table, IG Technologies. A four-year-old company. Rapidly scaling. Fiercely private. But still… new.
Too young to be competing with the Goliaths we usually partnered with.
“She’s never done this before,” I said.
“That’s because you’ve never pushed back on the Kensington marriage before. Trust me, if you would have refused, she would know you want to do things your own way, but this, this has nothing to do with the Kensingtons, though,” Zane said, arching an eyebrow.
Before I could reply, the door creaked open and in walked the matriarch herself. Grandma Celesta Windsor, wrapped in an ivory cashmere shawl, hair pinned in a neat silver twist, pearls gleaming against her throat.
She walked like royalty—slow and with the kind of poise you couldn’t buy.
“Gentlemen,” she said, with a nod.
Zane stood and bowed playfully. I remained seated, fingers steepled. I knew the game too well to give her the upper hand.
She sat down at the opposite end and clasped her hands. “You’re curious, aren’t you p>
“I am,” I admitted, not bothering to hide my expression.
Her eyes twinkled with something between pride and mischief.
“I’ve set up a meeting for tomorrow,” she said. “10 a.m. sharp. You’ll meet with the CEO of IG Technologies and their team. They’ll present everything in detail p>
“And you’re not coming?” I asked.
She smiled again, like she knew something I didn’t. “I don’t need to. You’ll be fine p>
“Why IG?” I asked directly. “Why not go with Draxen or Argon or any of the other tech firms that have been knocking on our door for the last decade p>
“Because, dear boy,” she said, leaning forward, “it’s time for fresh blood. You’ve modernized the Windsor Empire in many ways, Julian. But you still pick vendors like your grandfather did, safe, predictable, and established. IG is none of those things p>
I narrowed my eyes. “You still haven’t answered my question p>
She chuckled softly. “She’s young. Brilliant. And not afraid to take risks. Just like you p>
“She?” I repeated.
Grandma didn’t answer. Just rose from her chair and adjusted her shawl. “Do your homework, Windsor. You’ll be surprised when you meet her in person p>
“Grandma p>
“It’s already scheduled. Don’t be late p>
And with that, she turned and walked out, as regal as ever, leaving the scent of jasmine and layered intrigue behind her.
Zane whistled low. “She’s sending you on a blind date p>
“She’s sending me into a trap,” I muttered.
“Same thing p>
I grabbed the file from the table and opened it again. The executive overview was flawless. Clean energy integrations, AI logistics, and cybersecurity frameworks that read like military-grade systems. All the specs were perfect. Too perfect.
I flipped to the leadership section. No photo, I blinked. No biography. No educational background. No awards. Just a name.
K. D. Kingston
Zane leaned over, reading. “That’s it p>
“That’s it p>
I pulled out my phone and searched: K. D. Kingston, IG Technologies.
Nothing.
I tried variations—Katia Kingston, Kingston IG CEO, and IG Technologies woman CEO. All I found were PR articles referencing the company’s innovative model and a few investor board releases. No interviews. No media appearances. No social profiles.
Just whispers.
“She’s basically invisible,” I said.
“Ghost CEO,” Zane muttered. “I like her already.” I looked up at him, and he grinned. “You’ve met your match p>
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “There’s no information on her p>
“Well,” he shrugged, “either she’s careful, or she has something to hide p>
My eyes locked on the word “Kingston” again. Something about that name gnawed at the back of my mind, like a splinter I couldn’t see.
But I shoved the thought aside.
“She’s also married,” I said aloud.
“How do you know p>
“There’s a line in the company FAQ. Says the CEO’s policy is to keep her private life private, but she wears a wedding ring as a symbol of her commitment to her family values p>
“Could be branding,” Zane offered. “Makes her seem wholesome to investors p>
“Or it could be real p>
He studied me. “Does that matter p>
“No,” I lied.
He didn’t press, but the smirk never left his face.
“Don’t look at me like that p>
“I’m just impressed,” Zane said. “You’ve spent the last six years brooding over a woman you married and can’t remember. Now here you are, chasing after another woman you’ve never seen p>
“Business,” I said flatly. “This is just business, nothing much p>
“Sure,” he said, rising from his seat. “Tell that to your face p>
I didn’t answer. Just stared down at the crisp Windsor Empire logo at the bottom of the contract summary. Tomorrow, I’d meet her, the mystery woman, or whoever the fuck she was.
The woman behind the shadows.
The woman who had my grandmother intrigued. A company with no digital fingerprints. A CEO who didn’t want to be known.
Why did that feel so fucking familiar?
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