Chapter 2 : Silvius Enterprises

*Lila's POV*

Eyeliner? Sharp as a knife.

Hair? Pulled up into a bun without fly-aways.

Outfit? On point. The goal was to look professional but not over the top. I didn't need to stand out, I needed to fit in.

As it was, Mia and I had done everything we possibly could to get me prepared for the Silvius press conference. My career was riding on this so I needed to bring my A-game.

I researched the company and its owner for every scrap of information I could get my hands on, doing a deep dive into Silvius Enterprises.

Rafe Silvius was even more renowned than his company, often recognized for being a rich and handsome bachelor.

But my focus wasn't on some clickbait or relationship drama—though no doubt someone was going to write about that.

The company was consistently turning out some of the best advancements in medical procedures and technology since the company first started in 1962.

And they had only evolved from there.

Twenty years ago, they were worth hundreds of millions. Five years ago, Rafe Silvius took it over and made it worth billions.

He had a great foundation to start with and build off of, but his integrity kept the whole thing running at the best it had ever been while the charities and big donations he made to others left his public opinion high.

It probably helped that he lacked scandals and was quick to kick out any corruption that he found in his company.

Once, he made national news when he fired some of his executives for trying to cut costs and save money by slashing paychecks.

He was completely clean with a spotless record that any journalist or reporter would chalk up to being a story or some sort of juicy secret. But I wasn't going to this conference to write some sensationalist article, even if it would be fun. I couldn't afford to screw this up, so that meant not starting shit with the most powerful man in the world.

If by some miracle I did have enough luck left in me to get called upon during the conference, then there would be no personal questions, no digging, and absolutely no hinting to anything scandalous going on.

No, I'd write a good article. I'd gush about their new tech and innovations, the company's future hopes and projects, and take all the notes I possibly could in my tiny little journal so I didn't miss a single thing.

Standing in front of the Silvius building just made it all the more real. It was a BIG building, at least 100 floors high, and the guard detail outside was extensive. The road was closed off on the street for the conference: cars were being stopped, faces checked, passes scanned.

When I handed over mine, for a minute, I thought they'd think something was wrong with it and I'd be tossed out. My nervous disposition was making me more suspicious, but the scanner turned green and I was waved on. I let out a sigh of relief as I passed the guards.

The inside was even nicer than the outside with tall ceilings and beautiful pieces of artwork decorating the area.

I pressed the 'up' button on the elevator and waited for it to ding. When it arrived, I stepped inside and hit the number 54 on the keypad. The elevator was so clean that I felt nervous even breathing on the polished chrome walls.

I made it. Then, when the doors opened, I saw him.

That little rat fucker. It was my ex. Maxwell fucking Thompson.

Why was he here? How the fuck was he here?

I hadn't seen him since he left our apartment with MY writing, leaving me with the debt from the bills he lied about paying. Honestly, I would've preferred if he cheated.

The writings he took weren't articles I wrote for work. No, they were personal, and they were never supposed to be published. They were articles I wrote in my free time for fun and to keep myself sharp. They were only speculation pieces, saying crap about things that held no basis and talking shit without proof. No substance and no meaning.

It was nothing I would've ever published and Max knew that. But rather than supporting me, he took my work and became a rather popular sensationalist writer with MY articles at another news company.

I'd rather die than claim that work as something I'd ever willingly publish and he knew that, which was why he was so quick to use it and unrepentant.

Having to tell Mr. Gilbert that we had a leak with our work because of my mistake in choosing a romantic partner sent everyone's projects back by a week. And that promotion I was guaranteed months prior? It was stalled in lieu of my mistakes.

Bitter and salty did not even begin to describe what I felt at the sight of him.

He was not going to mess this up for me, though.

I skirted around the edges of the reporters and journalists already present, setting myself somewhere near the middle while Max was, in classic fashion, directly upfront. However, I felt I had a good enough view. I wasn’t far from the speakers, and the distance would keep away the intrusive thoughts of gutting that story stealing son of a bitch.

There were at least 100 reporters minimum at this conference and despite the size of the room, we were all leaning close to the stage in wait, pens at the ready.

Finally, the man of the hour arrived and my breath caught. The TV hardly did him justice, and to top it off, Rafe Silvius had a presence about him. An aura you could say.

It was the kind that made you go a bit quiet and straighten your spine, just to try and hear him better. The kind where you were just a bit intimidated, but also captivated by the power or confidence. Maybe both.

With blue eyes, black hair, and a tasteful three piece suit that could probably cover my life debt, Rafe Silvius stood before us in all his glory and only cemented my previous decision.

Do NOT start shit with the most powerful man in the room, not even by accident. Don't do it, Lila. You're smarter than that.

He stepped up to the dais with a microphone hooked to his dress shirt. His voice was loud and clear.

"Thank you all for coming. We're happy to have you here today to share Silvius Enterprise's newest launch. As you know, our company has a rich history in the medical field, ever since my grandfather first started the company. We’ve continually tried to reveal bigger and better creations into the market for this very reason, and to continue on with the company’s legacy. Today, the product we are about to reveal is our best yet."

It was a bold claim and yet, not a single person doubted him. We were all waiting with baited breath like we were his biggest fans instead of media outlets.

He paused and then a small smile played on his lips. It was one only a confident and assured man could muster. He knew we were hanging off every word.

“Please welcome Silvius Enterprises newest innovation in medical technology, the Cell-Igniter.”

It was not a very large machine. Rather, it was sleek silver with a white plastic casing, and there were vials of blue liquid sticking out of it along with an almost gun-like injector without a needle.

“Now, this device might look small, but I assure you that what it can do is nothing short of incredible. The medicine inside of the Cell-Igniter is what gives this machine its name. It promotes cellular regeneration without the risk of cancer causing cells," he continued. "In short, we can now completely regenerate lost and damaged tissue to the 2nd epidermal layer."

Holy crap.

From the lack of awe and murmuring, some people didn't understand what he meant. However, I needed to confirm what I thought I heard, and raised my hand within the group. I never actually expected to get called.

"Yes, you with the silver brooch," Rafe called out.

That was me. Oh sweet mother of God.

"Yes–ehem. To clarify, Mr. Silvius, are you saying that your technology is able to create new skin to replace lost and damaged tissue as if it was never damaged in the first place? That this little machine can do what plastic surgeons struggle to do in…how long exactly?"

There were murmurs of shock and surprise while I stared at him with bated breath.

I needed the details. I needed to know everything. How accessible was this machine? How much would an operation cost? Also, why did this big question feel somewhat like dangerous territory, breaching into 'personal matters' I had already promised not to mess with?

But to my surprise, instead of being insulted, Rafe smiled, and for the first time in this meeting, I was struck with how different it was from his professional one.

Good job Lila, non-personal questions for the win.

"Our studies have shown zero rejection of the new skin and, for a scar that's about three inches in diameter, the damaged area can be removed in under an hour with cellular regeneration taking about one to two weeks to finish rebuilding the new skin," Rafe explained, the smile still apparent.

That–that was good, better than good. Especially if the healing time was just as he said. Two weeks of recovery to a lifetime of its existence.

I opened my mouth, catching myself from asking another question and quite possibly making myself the enemy of every other reporter in this room, but Rafe continued to smile, continuing on, almost reading my mind for what I wanted to ask next.

“Following that, we have just finished lab testing and are moving on to clinical trials. By the start of next year the Cell-Igniter will be available in every hospital within the states and by the year after that, available around the world. The surgery and Cell-Igniter itself should cost very little and we at Silvius Enterprises are working to get it medically covered by most insurance companies.”

Forget about the public opinion, he was practically the public's golden goose, and if there wasn’t a story on that little tidbit of info he just dropped, I would happily be the only one writing it.

For the rest of the conference, I took notes as Rafe talked a bit about the machine's inspiration and dodged questions about how he was so confident he could get the insurance to cover people's medical costs–as if that wasn’t exactly what it was supposed to do to begin with.

I was feeling more than good once the meeting ended, slipping out of the conference room and away from the very fancy lunch that was being provided. It was incredibly tempting and mouth watering but I wanted to start on my article while everything was still fresh and avoid Max since I’d been feeling his gaze on me ever since I asked my question.

Since I was leaving so early, it was only me in the elevator headed straight to level one. That was until a hand caught the door before it could close. I was in awe when I saw that it was the man of the hour, Rafe Silvius himself.

“Mr. Silvius! Apologies, I was unaware you wanted to get on.”

Please tell me I didn’t close the elevator door on the most powerful man in the world. That sounded like starting shit.

“No, don’t worry about that…Ms. Wrenn,” he replied, glancing at my press pass. He smiled pleasantly and I felt my cheeks flush. “I saw you leave and wanted to talk to you.”

Calm down, Lila, he’s just a very handsome man in a very good looking suit with a charming smile. There’s a reason he’s a bachelor and has been one since he took over this company.

The little reminder helped me calm down and I managed to keep my voice level.

“Oh? You wanted to talk to me? I hope my questions didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Haha! Oh no, quite the opposite actually,” he chuckled. "I like how you kept your focus on the conference instead of fishing for drama like most journalists tend to do. It was a pleasant surprise.”

Fantastic. I did not accidentally start a fight with him. Goal achieved.

“That’s why,” Rafe continued. “I think it'd be good for Silvius Enterprises to be able to be a bit more local. You know, seeing as we are based in this city." He winked and my heart was going a mile a minute.

He wasn't....

But he put his hands in his pockets and looked directly at me; his blue eyes piercing me.

"Would you be open to an interview to write about my company?"

He was!!!

"Mr. Silvius, are you sure you’re the one supposed to be asking ME that question?" I managed to get out.

His smile continued to grow, showing off his white teeth. I didn't know if he found me amusing, or if at the moment, he genuinely liked me.

"Is that your answer?" he pressed.

I couldn't hesitate on his offer. I was crazy to even ask that question! I wouldn't get another chance this big, no matter how strange this situation was.

So my answer was simple: "I would love to."