TANGLED WITH MR BLACKWOOD

The week began with motion. Controlled, electric motion.

Gala week was finally here, and Lexi could feel it in the marrow of her bones.

At 8:45 a.m., she walked into the office lobby with her laptop bag slung across one shoulder and a branded clipboard tucked in her arm. Her blazer was cinched at the waist, hair tied into a loose high knot, and gold studs blinked under the lighting as she made her way toward the cluster of waiting team members.

There was no fidgeting. No hesitation.

She greeted them with calm confidence, her voice low and assured. "Let's head to the venue."

Maya gave her a subtle salute. Jared, dressed in his signature turtleneck and pressed slacks, already had the logistics binder open. Nexi held a sleek tablet loaded with updates, and Tosin sipped coffee while replying to final vendor confirmations on his earpiece.

They moved like a unit. Like hers.

---

The gala venue was nothing short of grand.

Chandeliers already hung above the glass-paneled ballroom, waiting for final lighting checks. A floral crew swirled around suspended decor, the stage crew adjusted mic levels, and catering reps waited for walkthroughs.

Lexi stood in the center of it all—directing with a soft-spoken authority that commanded attention.

She walked the perimeter with Jared as he flagged staging distances. Nexi confirmed the seating board in real time with the event layout team. Tosin made lighting corrections on the spot, shifting angles by inches. And Maya? Maya was off to the side, pretending to film "content" while secretly catching Lexi in full goddess-glow mode for her private Insta story highlight titled Queen Lexi Era .

"Those drop florals need to be four inches lower," Lexi said calmly. "The arch is reading too aggressive from this camera angle."

"Yes, ma'am," one of the decorators said instantly.

By noon, they had walked the floor three times, signed off on delivery timings, checked the VIP holding area, and color-matched drapery under six lighting settings.

Lexi tucked her notes under her arm and turned to her team. "That's it. Beautiful work. Let's head back."

Maya mouthed a dramatic "CEO behavior."

Lexi didn't react. But her lips lifted.

Just as they stepped back onto Floor 18, a soft ping landed in her Blackwood dashboard.

GALA STATUS MEETING – FLOOR 38 – 2:00 PM.

Her heart did a little pivot.

Maya leaned over with wide eyes. "Girl. Are you seeing this?"

Lexi stared at the screen. "I guess they want a direct update."

Jared looked up from his desk. "Let's get the render files prepped."

"I've got the numbers," Nexi said, pulling up her spreadsheet.

"I'm printing backups just in case," Tosin added, already halfway to the intern desk.

---

The elevator ride to the 38th floor was quieter than usual.

Lexi stood in the middle, surrounded by her crew—her armor.

Each one of them carried samples, tablets, sketches, or reports. Maya was holding a sealed envelope from Marketing. Jared carried three folders. Tosin double-checked a USB.

And Lexi?

Lexi carried nothing but poise.

The boardroom was cool and sharp, all marble and matte black surfaces. A long table stretched beneath sky-high glass, and at the far end sat the company's elite—Blackwood executives, division heads…

And Ethan Blackwood.

He was seated, sleeves rolled, suit jacket abandoned somewhere behind him.

His gaze didn't move as they entered.

The COO called on Lexi to begin.

She stepped forward—confident, composed. Her team stayed slightly behind, flanking her like shadows of purpose.

She outlined every detail of the final execution plan: guest caps, layout shifts, sound trials, alternate power sources, and protocol adjustments. Each section flowed into the next like a choreographed score.

There was no nervous energy. No overselling.

Just precision.

When she finished, a small hush passed through the room.

Then Ethan spoke.

"Efficient."

Lexi nodded once. "Thank you, Mr. Blackwood."

He didn't elaborate.

But when she turned to leave, she felt something press against her spine. Not fingers. Not heat.

His gaze.

As Lexi stepped back into Floor 18, calm and composed, a man from Finance—mid-30s, bald fade, Bluetooth earpiece always blinking—looked up from his screen.

His eyes trailed her blazer. Then the folder in her arm. Then her legs.

Then he walked directly into the edge of the water dispenser.

The crash echoed.

He jumped. The dispenser wobbled. His coffee spilled a little. And he tried to pretend it didn't happen, straightening his tie like he hadn't just tried to ascend into embarrassment heaven.

Maya leaned across her desk with sniper precision.

"I know you saw that," she whispered.

Lexi, already logging in, didn't flinch. "Saw what?"

"That man just got baptized in cold water because you walked in like a Chanel executive. He stared too hard and paid the hydration tax."

Lexi tried not to laugh. "You're exaggerating."

"I am not. That was full-blown eyes-contact-stumbling-rebooting-his-life behavior. I swear he whispered 'Amen' when you passed."

Lexi shook her head. "Maya…"

"He's probably Googling your LinkedIn right now. Lexi Thompson. Floor 18. Divinely Employed."

Lunch came fast.

The team broke into pairs, grabbing salad bowls and rehydrating. Maya grabbed a banana, then pulled her chair over to Lexi's desk, wagging her brows.

"You know what time it is."

Lexi raised a brow. "Maya…"

Too late. She tapped.

Shasha's face exploded onto the screen mid-chew, hoodie lopsided, bonnet angled like a crown of foolishness.

She screamed. Loudly.

"WHO LET YOU LOOK THAT GOOD IN A BLACKWOOD BOARDROOM?! WHO AUTHORIZED THIS?"

Lexi flinched. "Shasha, I'm in the office—"

"I DON'T CARE," she yelled. "The group chat is dry and I needed this serotonin! Did you wear heels? Eyeliner? Did you breathe near Ethan Blackwood???"

Maya, grinning: "She didn't just breathe. She inhaled poise and exhaled executive pressure."

Shasha dropped her smoothie. "Maya, you're lying—don't lie to me. Did she sit or stand?"

"She owned the room," Maya replied, straight-faced. "Charts. Slides. Barely blinked. We were background noise."

Lexi covered her face. "You two are on another level of ridiculous—"

"You're not denying it!" Shasha shouted. "Oh my God. I swear if you marry into this company, I'm changing my surname to Blackwood-Lite. Put me on the bridal train, I'll wear emerald."

"You don't even know what happened," Lexi tried.

Shasha squinted. "I know vibes, and I can smell a Lexi Win from ten cities away. You used to cry over budget sheets. Now look at you—power walking in power suits!"

Maya added dramatically, "The floor shimmered when she came back."

Shasha sniffled, mock-emotional. "Our girl made it out of client-from-hell trenches. And she didn't even have to throw a chair."

Lexi started laughing so hard she couldn't breathe.

"You've come far," Shasha said, a bit softer now. "And I hope you never doubt it."

Lexi nodded, holding back tears and giggles. "I won't."

Maya popped a peanut into her mouth. "Good. Now go finish conquering your empire. We'll keep the delusions warm."

The rest of the afternoon flew by in a blur of RSVP tallies, seating grid tweaks, and transport confirmations.

Lexi was reviewing her timeline grid when a strange stillness pulled her eyes upward.

And there he was.

Ethan Blackwood.

Two floors above, standing at the glass atrium that overlooked part of Floor 18.

His arms rested on the railing. His eyes on her.

No words. No gestures.

Just… watching.

Her breath caught.

Their eyes met.

And everything else went silent.

Camille arrived five minutes later, heels slicing into silence as she entered.

She passed behind Lexi's desk, slow and quiet, stopping just long enough to glance at the black folder embossed with silver letters: L.T.

Her eyes lingered.

Lexi didn't look up.

Camille moved again, then paused.

Her voice was too soft. "You'll want to recheck the floral rotations for the main entry. Wouldn't want the scent to overpower the scent of the guests."

A dig. Elegant. Laced with venom.

Lexi lifted her head. "It's already been adjusted. Jasmine pulled back. White tuberose only at the centerpiece."

Their gazes met. Held.

Camille smiled slightly. "Of course it has."

And walked on.

Lexi exhaled once the door closed.

She returned to her screen.

Her hands didn't shake.

She wasn't just working a gala anymore.

She was making her mark.

With her team. With her name. And with the kind of energy that could no longer be ignored—even by t

he man watching from behind glass.