CONFLICT OF INTERESTS

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CHAPTER 7: ACCUMULATED INTEREST

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Three months after the contract was signed, the forty-second floor had transformed into a silent, perfectly choreographed battlefield.
During the day, protocol was impeccable. In front of the creative teams, accountants, and the watchful eyes of the staff, Smart and Boom were two ruthless executives who debated every cent allocated to the new project with cold precision. No one in the building dared to interrupt when the two of them locked themselves in the boardroom to discuss budgets.
But at night, the rules changed.
All it took was for the last secretary to clock out and the general lights to go off for the carefully calculated distance between them to dissolve. Sometimes it was in Smart’s penthouse, reviewing filming schedules over rumpled sheets; other times, in Boom’s office, with the doors locked from the inside and their jackets tossed over designer chairs as they shared a glass of whisky and the weight of accumulated exhaustion.
They had found a strange, addictive rhythm in which their physical intimacy was becoming increasingly difficult to separate from the genuine need to be close to each other.
Their perfect balance began to waver toward the end of the third month.
The scale of the project had grown much faster than anticipated. The presales on Asian platforms required technical infrastructure and international distribution rights that had significantly increased the original budget approved by the board.
“If we don’t secure an independent injection of capital before the end of the month, the board is going to freeze phase two,” Smart said one rainy night, dropping a financial report covered in red figures onto the desk.
Sitting on the edge of the table with his shirt unbuttoned at the chest, Boom took the document and studied it with a frown.
“Traditional banks will take sixty days to approve a loan of that size,” Boom replied, lifting his gaze toward him. “We need a private investment fund with immediate liquidity.”
“There’s only one group in the region with the capacity to provide that amount without demanding the copyright to the final product,” Smart said, crossing his arms with a stern expression.
Boom narrowed his eyes, immediately understanding who he meant.
“The Phukhao family conglomerate.”
“Exactly,” Smart nodded. “Its heir, Phukhao, took over the investment division last month and is looking for high-impact projects to expand. He called an executive meeting this weekend at his coastal resort to evaluate the proposal.”
Boom placed the report back on the desk and smiled faintly, reclaiming that defiant spark that always seemed to ignite something in Smart.
“Two days on the coast, twenty million on the table, and a flawless presentation. Sounds like we need to pack our bags, partner.”
Smart approached slowly, placing a firm hand on the back of Boom’s neck and pulling him closer until their foreheads touched in the dim office.
“I reserved two separate suites for protocol,” Smart murmured against his lips, with that dark possessiveness he no longer bothered to hide. “But don’t expect to sleep alone either night.”
Boom let out a low laugh, wrapping his arms around Smart’s neck before kissing him.
“I had no intention of doing so.”
Neither of them imagined that the business trip was about to put to the test not only the company’s financial control, but also every boundary they believed they had under control.