New beginning: Billionaire love story

The Thanksgiving dinner with the Robertsons was nothing short of a theatrical performance, and Claire knew her part well. She had entered their grand dining room, armed with her wits and a steely resolve, ready for whatever subtle jabs and sly comments the evening had in store.

The smell of roasted turkey and freshly baked bread filled the air, but to Claire, the room reeked of ulterior motives.

The star of the moment, of course, was her pudding-a culinary disaster she had deliberately over-salted. She had no intention of impressing the Robertsons with her cooking; this was just her little act of rebellion for having to endure their prying questions and veiled manipulations.

When Robert Robertson took his first bite, his face twisted slightly. He masked it quickly, placing the pudding aside. Gretta, ever the perfectionist, merely sniffed it suspiciously and moved on to stirring her tea, but her ears were clearly tuned in to the conversation.

"So, Claire," Robert began, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin and fixing her with a look that was far too casual to be genuine. "What are you up to these days? Anything exciting?"

Claire leaned back in her chair, tearing a piece of bread deliberately slowly. She chewed with exaggerated languor, her raised brows the only acknowledgment she gave to Robert's question.

Robert cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the silence but determined to wait her out. Gretta's spoon clinked rhythmically against the edge of her teacup as she stirred, her eyes seemingly fixed on the liquid but her posture screaming curiosity.

Claire finally swallowed her bread and smiled-a slow, deliberate expression meant to irritate. "Not feeling myself lately," she said lazily, her voice carrying just a hint of sarcasm. "I'm tired, Robert. Exhausted, actually. It's been... a lot."noveldrama

Robert's lips tightened into a thin line, clearly unimpressed with her evasive answer. "Tired, you say? That's unlike you, Claire," he said, his voice dripping with false concern. "You've always been so resilient. Maybe you've taken on too much? If you need help with Metacortex..." He let the sentence hang, offering her a smile that Claire recognized as more predatory than friendly. "After all, we were once family." Claire's fake smile widened, though her eyes remained cold. Family? She thought bitterly. If you cared about family, Robert, you wouldn't have stolen from me. You wouldn't have stolen my idea of Cortex Software from Venus AMD.

Claire still holds a grudge on that. She is still annoyed and hate the fact that Robert managed to stole it then sold her idea to Venus AMD, resulting in him getting a position as a vice president.

Outwardly, she sipped her tea, maintaining her composure. "I'm handling it very well, thank you," she said with practiced calm. "No need for anyone else to step in."

Robert's smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered, leaning back in his chair. "Well, that's good to hear," he said smoothly. "Metacortex is quite the undertaking. I'm just glad to know it's in such capable hands."

Gretta, sensing the tension but unwilling to let the opportunity slip away, decided to change tactics. She set her teacup down and looked at Claire with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "What about socially, Claire? Are you still mingling with the rich and powerful? Using that LHS card of yours?"

Claire chuckled lightly. "Of course, I still use it. Besides, it is a privilege. However, hanging out with them, I could have say sometimes, if I have the time," she replied nonchalantly.

Gretta's smile grew slightly tighter. "The LHS must be such an exclusive circle," she said, her tone tinged with envy. "It's such a privilege to be part of something like that."

Claire saw where this was going and smirked inwardly. "It is," she said sweetly, letting the words hang just long enough to make Gretta squirm.

Gretta leaned forward slightly, her voice taking on a hopeful, almost bashful tone. "Do you think...

maybe... they'd consider adding one more member? I mean, I know it's exclusive, but surely they're open to, you know, the right people."

Claire's smile didn't falter as she replied, her tone saccharine with just a touch of sarcasm. "Oh, I think the LHS is full, Gretta. They're not accepting new members these days. Such a shame, really."

The look on Gretta's face was priceless. She managed to suppress whatever choice words she wanted to hurl at Claire, but her expression twisted briefly into something that was almost comical. Claire couldn't resist smirking as she sipped her tea.

Robert, sensing his wife's irritation, tried to steer the conversation back to safer waters. "Claire, I must say, it's impressive how you've managed Metacortex these past few months since you come back. But tell me, how's the security? With so many companies getting hacked these days..."

The question hit a nerve, though Claire masked it well. Eligos's recent breach of Metacortex's system was still fresh in her mind, a glaring vulnerability that she hadn't yet resolved. But there was no way she was going to let Robert sniff out that particular weakness.

"Security is top-notch, Robert," she said smoothly. "We've implemented some of the most advanced protocols in the industry. Honestly, Metacortex is more secure than ever."

Robert nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly. He wasn't entirely convinced, but Claire's poker face was impeccable. "Good, good. That's what I like to hear," he said, though his tone was laden with suspicion.

The rest of the dinner passed in a tense yet strangely cordial dance of words and glances. Claire answered questions with calculated precision, revealing nothing of real importance. Robert and Gretta probed and prodded, but Claire deflected their inquiries with the skill of a seasoned diplomat.

As dessert was served-mercifully not involving Claire's disastrous pudding-Gretta made one final attempt to needle Claire. "It's a shame you're handling everything alone Claire," she said, her voice dripping with faux sympathy."Surely it would be easier with a partner. Someone like... oh, I don'tknow, Alexander? I hear he's been quite involved lately."

Claire's jaw tightened imperceptibly, but she forced a smile. "Alexander and I have a... professional arrangement," she said evenly. "Nothing more."

Gretta's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Of course. Just professional."

Claire finished her dessert quickly, setting her fork down with a decisive clink. "Well, this has been lovely," she said, standing abruptly. "But I really must be going. Work doesn't stop, even on Thanksgiving." Robert and Gretta both rose, their polite masks firmly in place. "Always a pleasure, Claire," Robert said, extending a hand.

Claire shook it briefly, her grip firm. "Likewise," she replied, though her tone suggested the opposite. She exchanged a few more forced pleasantries before finally making her escape.

As she drove away, Claire let out a long breath, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. The evening had been exactly as she'd expected: exhausting, frustrating, and full of thinly veiled attempts to manipulate her But she had survived it, and she hadn't given Robert or Gretta an inch.

"Family, my ass," she muttered under her breath as she sped down the darkened road. "They're just

waiting for me to slip."

But Claire Peterson didn't slip. Not for them, not for anyone.