“Shall we discuss how you manipulated your way into my life eight years ago?” The words slide off my tongue like honey laced with poison. I don’t offer her a drink. Let her thirst. Let herremember who holds the power now. “Or should we focus on who’s hunting you now?”
Every micro-expression flits across her face in the window’s reflection—the tightening around her eyes, the slight clench of her jaw. She’s always been readable to me, even when she thought she had me fooled.
“I don’t want to talk about the past.” Her voice carries that familiar steel edge. “But don’t portray yourself as the victim. What I exposed was the ugliness of your clients.” She shifts her weight, eyes blazing. “I manipulated you as much as you manipulated me. I’m sorry it affected your… business, but I guess it’s a risk you are willing to take when protecting elite scum.”
The words hit their mark—a precise strike at old wounds. My fingers tighten around the crystal tumbler as I turn, closing the distance between us in two fluid steps. The scotch burns in my chest, fueling the darkness I’ve cultivated since she left.
“And what am I, Eve?” I lower my voice to a dangerous whisper, invading her space. She doesn’t step back—she never did know when to retreat. Her pulse quickens at her throat, but her chin stays high, defiant. “A monster? A necessary evil? A story for you? Or simply the man who now holds your life in his hands?”
The air between us crackles with unspoken threats, but there’s something else there, too—something that makes my blood burn hotter than the scotch. Desire. Raw and unwanted, it coils through my veins like smoke, and I hate how it weakens my carefully constructed walls.
And that… that new element… I am not happy with it at all.
I lean against my desk, studying Eve’s disheveled form. “Since you’ve come to me for help, let’s start with what exactly you’re working on.”
She straightens despite her obvious pain. “I’m finishing a documentary. The final cut is almost ready.”
“And these threats you’re receiving—they’re connected to your project, I presume?” My fingers trace the edge of my desk.
“Yes.” Her response is clipped, guarded.
“Who did you target this time, Eve?”
Her chin lifts in that familiar defiant gesture. “I can’t tell you that.”
Irritation prickles under my skin. Even now, she dares to withhold information. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Both.”
I push away from the desk, closing the distance between us. “Let me be clear. I won’t have you shaking my business again. Whatever arrangement we make stays between us, and I won’t be crossed again.”
She holds my gaze, but I catch a slight tremor in her hands. Good. Let her remember who holds the power here.
My mind races with possibilities. Whatever—or whoever—she is protecting so fiercely likely involves my own clients. The wealthy, the powerful, the corrupted. If I can get my hands on her investigation, learn who is being implicated… I could destroy it after collecting substantial compensation from those involved. A fitting revenge served cold.
“Protection comes with a price,” I say, moving to my drink cart. I pour two measures of whiskey, though I know she won’t touch hers. She never accepted drinks from me—one of her smarter instincts. “You’ll stay here, where I can ensure your safety.”
Her laugh cuts through the air like broken glass. “Your version of safety or mine?”
I take another step, making sure she feels the full weight of my stare. “You surrendered the right to negotiate any terms with me eight years ago. You stay here, under my supervision,until this threat is neutralized or until your documentary gets out. No contact with the outside world except through me. No exceptions.”
Her fingers curl into fists, but fear flickers in her eyes. She knows she has no choice.
“And if I refuse?”
I smile, all teeth and no warmth. “Then you can take your chances with whoever went after you. Your choice, Eve. It always has been.”
The city lights cast long shadows across my penthouse as Eve’s chin dips in resignation. Victory tastes sweet.
“I need to finish editing my footage,” she says, voice steady despite her obvious discomfort.
“I’ll have whatever equipment you require delivered here.” I keep my tone businesslike, though satisfaction courses through my veins. “State-of-the-art setup, complete privacy.”
“I need to file a police report about my apartment.” Her gaze meets mine, challenging. “And follow up on the investigation.”
My jaw clenches. “Absolutely not.”
“It wasn’t a request, Remy.”
