Ambergris Locakboxes Traveled Salt Routes by Hugh Calder 128

Chapter One Hundred And Twenty–Eight: This Is A Dangerous Game.

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Dreston closed the door to his office quietly behind him. The applause still echoed faintly in the hallway, but inside his private space, the air was calm again. It was cool, controlled, and strategic.

He slipped off his Navy blue suit jacket, and draped it carefully over the back of his leather chair. His tie followed next, loosened and removed entirely. He placed it on the desk without looking at it. He was left in his crisp white shirt.

He rolled up his sleeves slowly, exposing his forearms. The simple act changed his appearance from polished CEO to something more focused, something more hands–on. His wristwatch caught the light as he flexed his fingers once before sliding both hands into his pockets.

His phone was already on speaker, resting on his desk. A call was ongoing.

He began pacing.

“Yes,” he said calmly, his voice even. “I understand the scale of what you’re proposing.”

On the other end of the line was the executive director of a continental e–sport federation–an organisation that had been trying to secure a global–friendly showcase match for years.

“We are planning a cross–regional exhibition match,” the director continued. “Invitation–only teams. Limited slots. Global broadcast. We would be honoured if NULLWRAITH would participate.”

Dreston’s expression did not change.

He stopped pacing briefly and glanced out through the floor–to–ceiling glass windows of his office, overlooking the city.

“She is not a contracted pro player,” he replied smoothly. “Any appearance would be strictly independent.”

“Of course,” the man assured quickly. “We are not seeking exclusivity. Only an appearance. A showcase. A symbolic match. We understand her position, Mr. Tremont‘.”

Dreston resumed pacing.

“And the structure?” he asked.

“Friendly bracket format. Mixed invitation teams. No ranking penalties. No sponsorship entanglements. She plays, she leaves. Clean.”

That was what Dreston liked.

Clean.

No contracts tying her down. No brand ownership battles. And no exclusivity traps. She appears. She plays. She leaves. Her name remains hers.

“And the timeline?” he asked.

“We would like to schedule a meeting within the week to discuss conditions. Media limitations. Format preferences. Technical arrangements,”

Dreston nodded slowly, even though they could not see him.

“I’ll make no commitments today,” he said firmly. “We will attend a meeting. That is all.”

There was a pause on the other side.

“That is more than enough for us, Mr. Tremont.”

Dreston’s jaw tightened just slightly at the use of his surname in that tone. Everyone was careful now. Everyone wanted something.

Chapter One Hundred And Twenty–Eight This Is A Dangerous Game

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The office went quiet again. Dreston stood still for a moment, then exhaled slowly.

This was good business. At least, not aggressive, and not binding. There is no risk. It allowed Cassienne to remain free. And that

is all that mattered.

He ran a hand through his black curls absentmindedly, pushing them back from his forehead, though they fell forward again almost immediately. He didn’t notice.

And that was when the office door opened.

He didn’t hear the knock. And he wasn’t expecting her. Cassienne stepped inside.

She had removed her blazer and was now in a fitted ivory blouse tucked into high–waisted charcoal trousers. Her hair was still styled from the morning but slightly softer now, a few loose strands framing her face.

She stopped mid–step.

Her eyes moved from him, to the phone on his desk. To his rolled sleeves. And to the expression on his face.

“I will have my office confirm a date,” Dreston was saying calmly into the phone. “No promises beyond that.”

Then he ended the call. And silence followed. He turned, his eyes met with hers.

Cassienne’s gaze sharpened immediately.

“Dreston?” she said slowly. The office went quiet again.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

She walked further inside.

“I just heard you agreeing to meetings.”

“I agreed to conversations,” he corrected gently.

She folded her arms unconsciously.

“About me.”

“Yes.”

He didn’t deny it.

He moved around his desk, leaning lightly against it.

“They’re making a request. Friendly matches. No exclusivity. No contract traps.

She studied him carefully.

“I am not ready for any of this, Dreston. I just want to breathe.

He nodded once.

”

“I wasn’t committing you to anything, Cassienne,” he replied calmly. “I was protecting your options.”

Her brows drew together.

“Protecting?”

“Yes.”

He stepped closer, though still keeping respectful distance.

Chapter One Hundred And Twenty–Eight This Is A Dangerous Game

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“If you refuse every meeting, they’ll escalate. They’ll chase you harder. But if you hear them out–on your terms–you remain in control.”

She didn’t answer immediately.

Her fingers tightened slightly at her elbows.

“So, you like this idea,” she observed.

“I like that it doesn’t bind you,” he answered honestly. “Appear. Play. Leave. You choose the conditions. You remain free.”

Her eyes softened slightly.But confusion remained.

Dreston couldn’t hold himself. He crossed the distance between them in a second, his hands grabbed her waist and he printed his lips with hers.

He kissed her fiercely, not gently, he took and she gave. (1)

This is a dangerous game. Cassienne thought. Yet, she gave in.

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