Chapter 413: Wasting Your Time

Trent stopped at the desk and leaned in. His shoulder blocked most of the blotter. He spoke low enough that the words stayed between him and Moretti.

Moretti’s mouth went flat while he listened. His eyes lifted once, sharp, toward the sofa, then came back to Lucas. His right hand found the edge of the blotter and stayed, thumb pressed hard enough to crease the leather. The easy set that had been on his face a minute ago was gone. What was left looked careful. A small line had settled between his brows and stayed there.

He cleared his throat. The sound scraped in the quiet.

"There may be... a complication with the Profilée."

Bennett’s head turned.

Lucas didn’t move. Shoulders against the chair, hands on the arms, he looked straight at Moretti.

"What kind of complication?"

Moretti’s mouth stayed open a second longer than it needed to.

"Internal process," he said. The words came careful. "The unit is under a temporary hold. I need to confirm a few things before we can proceed."

Caspian sank an inch deeper into the sofa and stretched one arm along the backrest. He didn’t smile. He just looked comfortable, like the conversation had already settled somewhere he liked. The cushion under him shifted once as he adjusted his weight. One of his shoes rested flat against the floor, the other tipped slightly onto its edge.

Trent stayed by the desk, arms folded. The satisfaction on his face kept trying to climb higher than he wanted it to. It sat at the corner of his mouth and wouldn’t quite stay down. His jacket pulled slightly at the elbows where his arms crossed.

Bennett watched the three of them. The air in the room had shifted. This wasn’t a normal delay anymore. Cool air from the vents touched the back of her neck and kept moving. She could hear the low tick of the clock on the far wall, steady under the hum.

Lucas saw it. He settled back in the chair and looked from Caspian’s easy face to Moretti’s careful one. The whole thing was sitting right there in the open. Soft. Clean. Built to slide him out without anyone having to raise their voice.

He spoke.

"Who placed the hold?"

Moretti’s mouth opened. Then it closed again. His eyes flicked toward Caspian like they had somewhere better to be. He didn’t look at Lucas while he did it.

Lucas nodded once, slow.

"So the car is available," he said, "until it isn’t."

No one filled the quiet after that. The climate control kept humming against the glass. Somewhere past the office door, on the showroom floor, a latch clicked shut and stayed shut. The light through the glass stayed even across the desk. The papers on it didn’t move. Bennett’s hands stayed still in her lap. A thin line of reflection from the ceiling lights ran along the edge of the glass and held.

Caspian smiled.

"These things happen."

Moretti jumped in before the smile could finish.

"You know this is a rare car. One of three. You can’t always predict how these sales move. Units like this are difficult to place."

The words came out neat and professional and completely empty. They sat in the air like they’d been written down somewhere and practiced.

Bennett stayed still. Disgust settled under her face and stayed there. She could see Moretti folding toward the safer client. She could also see how little she could do about it without turning the meeting into a fight she hadn’t come here to have. A deal this size under her name still counted on his numbers. As long as Lucas kept looking serious, Moretti couldn’t throw him out clean without looking like he didn’t know what he was doing.

Lucas rested both hands on the arms of the chair and left them there. He studied Moretti a second longer. The dealer’s careful face stayed careful. Then he spoke in the same even tone he’d used all morning.

"How about I pay an extra fifty percent of the original amount?"

The words landed clean.

Caspian’s eyes cut back to him the moment they left his mouth. For a second the polished ease on his face thinned at the edges. The quiet ten percent cushion he’d given Moretti was no longer enough. Matching this would bite.

Bennett turned in her chair. She looked at Lucas, then rested her hand lightly on the armrest between them. Her fingers stayed there, light, not quite touching his sleeve. The fabric of the chair under her palm felt cool.

"Don’t you think this price is already outrageous?" she said.

Her voice stayed low. Five hundred million had already sat wrong with her. Watching him stack another fifty percent on top without blinking made her lean in harder, already searching for room to drag the number back down before it got worse.

Caspian studied Lucas’s face. He looked for a crack—some flicker of doubt, some need to be believed, some small tell that the number was bigger than the man saying it. He found none. The younger man’s hands stayed where they were on the chair. His shoulders didn’t shift. He looked back at Moretti like the offer had been ordinary. The light from the glass caught the edge of his jaw and stayed there.

Still, Caspian shook his head once, small and certain.

No. I swear this bastard is definitely bluffing.

He let out a short laugh. It came louder than the rest of the room had been. He aimed it at Moretti without bothering to lower his voice.

"This dude is definitely wasting your time."

The laugh hung there after the words. Trent’s folded arms didn’t move. Moretti’s eyes flicked once between them and stayed on the desk. Bennett’s hand remained on the armrest. The climate control hummed against the glass, steady and thin, while the offer and the dismissal sat in the same quiet space. Outside the glass the showroom floor stayed empty.