Hunter Quinn's POV
The office was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside. I leaned back in my leather chair, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. The man sitting across from me looked calm, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. He always played his part well, but I wasn't so easily fooled.
"You're walking a fine line," I said, my voice steady but sharp. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
He didn't flinch, but his jaw tightened. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
I smirked, setting my glass down on the desk. "Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're in way over your head."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You don't have to worry about me. I've got this under control."
"Control?" I laughed, the sound echoing in the spacious room. "You think you're in control of this? That's amusing. But let me remind you, people like her don't play fair. They never do."
His eyes darkened, but he stayed silent. I could tell he hated this conversation, but he wasn't going to walk away. Not yet.
"You're playing with fire," I continued, my tone colder now. "And when it burns you, don't say I didn't warn you."
"I'm not the one who's going to get burned," he said firmly.
I studied him for a moment, trying to gauge how much of that was confidence and how much was bravado. He was determined, I'd give him that. But determination alone wasn't enough to win this game.
"You think you can outsmart her?" I asked, leaning forward. "That you can turn this around and come out on top? Let me tell you something—you're not the first man to think that. And you won't be the last to fail."
His expression didn't change, but I could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes. It was small, but it was there.
"I'm not them," he said quietly.
"No, you're not," I agreed, leaning back again. "You're worse. Because you actually think this will end well for you."
He stood, straightening his jacket. "I don't need your approval. I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?" I asked, my voice low but cutting. "Because from where I'm standing, you're nothing more than a pawn in her game. And pawns don't win, my friend. They're sacrificed."
He didn't respond, but his grip on the back of the chair tightened. I could see the struggle in his eyes—the battle between his pride and the voice in his head telling him I was right.
"You came to me for a reason," I said, my tone softening slightly. "You wanted advice. And here it is: walk away. Before it's too late."
"I can't," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Can't or won't?" I challenged.
He didn't answer, and that was all the confirmation I needed.
"You've made your choice," I said, standing as well. "But don't come running to me when it all falls apart. You're on your own now."
He nodded once, then turned and walked out of the office without another word.
As the door closed behind him, I picked up my glass and stared out the window. He thought he was the one pulling the strings, but he was just as trapped as the rest of us.
This wasn't a game he could win. And deep down, I suspected he already knew that.
The office door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the dimly lit room. I swirled the amber liquid in my glass, watching the ripples distort the reflection of my face.
Alexander had just left, his usual confidence practically dripping off him. He always carried himself like a man who couldn't lose, like every move he made was calculated and flawless. But I knew better.
"Stubborn as ever," Vincent said, stepping into the room with his tablet in hand. His sharp eyes darted toward the door Alexander had just exited.
I let out a dry chuckle. "That's one way to put it. He's convinced he knows exactly what he's doing."
Vincent raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And does he?"
"Not entirely," I replied, setting the glass down with a soft thud. "He thinks he's in control, but he's playing a dangerous game. One misstep, and everything he's built could crumble."
Vincent hesitated. "Do you think he'll listen, sir?"
I leaned back in my chair, the faintest smirk tugging at my lips. "No. And that's exactly what I'm counting on."
Vincent nodded, understanding the weight of my words, and quietly left the room.
Alexander's confidence would be his downfall.
Evelyn's pov
Liam's car sputtered as we drove through the quiet streets. The vehicle was old and rickety, groaning with every turn. I was half-convinced it would break down any second.
"Are you sure this thing won't fall apart before we get there?" I asked, my tone sharper than intended.
He glanced at me, a faint smirk on his lips. "She's old, but she's reliable. Kind of like me."
I rolled my eyes and turned to look out the window. The scenery blurred past, and my thoughts wandered to the gala, to Hunter, and to how close I was to securing my next move.
Then my phone buzzed. I frowned, pulling it out of my purse. The number was unknown.
"Hello?" I answered cautiously.
"Ms. Chase," a deep voice said on the other end. "A sum of $250,000 has been deposited into your account."
My heart stopped. "What? Who is this?"
The line went dead.
I stared at the screen, my mind racing. That kind of money didn't just appear. Was it a trap? A warning? Or worse, was someone trying to buy me off?
"What's wrong?" Liam's voice cut through my thoughts.
I quickly locked my phone and shoved it back into my bag. "Nothing. Just a spam call."
He gave me a look, his brows furrowing. "You don't look like it was nothing."
"It's nothing," I snapped, more defensively than I intended.
Liam didn't say anything for a moment, but I could feel his eyes on me. The tension in the car grew thicker with each passing second.
"Evelyn," he finally said, his tone more serious. "If something's going on, you need to tell me. We're supposed to be partners, remember?"
I laughed bitterly. "Partners? Don't flatter yourself, Liam. You're just playing a role, just like me."
His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. Instead, he turned his attention back to the road.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. The money was a mystery I couldn't ignore, but I couldn't let Liam get too close to the truth. He didn't know about my double life, and I intended to keep it that way.
But as I sat there, feeling the weight of his gaze and the uncertainty of the call, I couldn't shake the feeling that the game I was playing was getting more dangerous.
For the first time, I wasn't sure if I was the one in control.