The air buzzed with luxury at the Sterling Heights Gala, where champagne flowed like water and secrets lurked behind jeweled masks. Genevieve felt the weight of her heels as she navigated the glittering maze of politicians, tycoons, and socialites, her purpose hidden beneath a practiced smile.

This wasn't her world, but it was her hunt. Somewhere in this sea of affluence lay a story—a scandal involving offshore accounts and fraudulent charities. She needed proof, but her focus faltered the moment she spotted him.

Brandstone.

He stood near the bar, tall and striking, his tailored black suit hugging broad shoulders. His presence demanded attention, even in a room filled with people desperate to be noticed. Genevieve couldn't look away.

As if sensing her gaze, he turned, locking eyes with her. His lips quirked into a sly, knowing smile, and in that instant, the crowded room blurred into insignificance.

"Are you going to stare all night, or will you say hello?" his voice was deep, smooth as velvet, as he approached her with the confidence of a man who never heard the word no.

Genevieve tilted her head, her lips curving. "I was trying to decide if you're worth the trouble."

His chuckle was low and intimate. "Trouble always finds me. I just make it look good."

Their banter danced between teasing and daring, each testing the other's resolve. Genevieve felt the pull of his charisma, but years of chasing elusive truths taught her to be wary.

"What brings you here, Mr.—?"

"Brandstone," he supplied, his voice laced with a challenge. "And you?"

"Genevieve. Just... observing."

The way his gaze lingered on her lips sent a spark down her spine. He leaned closer, the heat of his breath brushing her ear as he spoke. "Careful, Genevieve. Observing can lead to dangerous places."

Before she could respond, a server interrupted with a tray of champagne flutes. Brandstone grabbed two, handing one to her. Their fingers grazed, and she felt the electricity of his touch.

"To danger," he toasted, his dark eyes daring her to take the leap.

Genevieve clinked her glass against his, the bubbling liquid sliding down her throat as the tension between them thickened. She should have walked away. Instead, she let him lead her onto the balcony, where the city sprawled beneath a starless sky.

"I've seen you before," he said, his voice softer now. "Not here. Somewhere else."

"Unlikely," Genevieve lied, knowing full well her investigative work often made her a shadow in rooms like this. "You must have me confused with someone else."

"I don't confuse easily."

The way he studied her, as if peeling back her layers, made her pulse race. She wasn't used to being on the receiving end of scrutiny.

"And what do you see?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fire licking at her nerves.

He stepped closer, his scent—a mix of cedarwood and danger—wrapping around her. "A woman who doesn't belong in a room like this but commands it anyway. Bold. Unafraid. Irresistible."

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she allowed herself to indulge in the moment. His hand brushed her waist, the contact subtle but deliberate.

"I think you like danger," he murmured, his lips so close she could feel their heat.

Genevieve's heart hammered in her chest. She wanted to pull away, to keep the upper hand, but when his mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss, every thought dissolved into molten desire.

His lips moved against hers, firm and demanding, as his hands settled on her hips. She let herself fall into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket.

The world outside faded, leaving only the two of them tangled in a kiss that tasted of forbidden promises.

When they finally broke apart, Genevieve's breath came in shallow gasps. Brandstone's eyes burned with something dark and primal, but he stepped back, giving her space.

"Goodnight, Genevieve," he said, his voice rough. "This won't be the last time we meet."

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving her on the balcony with trembling lips and a racing heart.

Genevieve touched her swollen mouth, her thoughts swirling. She had come here for answers, not distractions. But Brandstone was both.

And she had a feeling he would be her undoing.