Chapter Two – A Devil's Bargain
Leila's fingers curled into fists beneath the table.
She had been in difficult situations before. She had faced men who thought they were untouchable, exposed their lies, and walked away with nothing but the truth as her shield. But this?
This was something else entirely.
Cassius Beaumont wasn't just another corrupt businessman or a politician playing dirty. He was power incarnate—the kind that could erase people from existence with a phone call. And right now, all of that power was focused on her.
The black folder between them sat like a loaded gun.
She stared at it, at the stark white paper bearing her name in bold at the top of the contract. Her pulse drummed in her ears as she forced herself to read through the lines. Every sentence tightened like a noose around her throat.
She would work for him.
She would investigate, but only the stories he wanted uncovered.
She would be his weapon.
Her stomach twisted.
She lifted her gaze, finding Cassius watching her with an unreadable expression. His blue eyes—cold, assessing—held none of the charm he sometimes wore in public. This was the real him. And she was trapped in the room with him.
Her voice came out quieter than she intended. "You're asking me to become your puppet."
Cassius exhaled softly as if she had just said something amusing. He leaned back in his chair, the dim lighting casting sharp shadows across his face. "I don't need puppets, Miss Carter. I need survivors."
Survivors.
The word hit harder than she wanted to admit.
Because Leila had spent her whole life surviving.
Growing up in a house that never felt like home.
Fighting to be taken seriously in a male-dominated industry.
Losing her job for exposing the wrong person.
She had clawed her way to where she was, only to have it all ripped away.
And now, here she was—faced with a man who could destroy her in a heartbeat.
She wet her lips, forcing her voice to stay steady. "I need time."
Cassius arched a brow. "Time?"
"To think."
A heavy silence stretched between them.
The room suddenly felt too big, too cold. She kept her posture straight, her expression neutral, but Cassius just studied her, his fingers tapping once against the desk.
Then, finally, he stood.
Not hurried. Not impatient. Smooth, effortless. Like a king rising from his throne.
Leila tensed as he moved—not around the desk, but straight toward her. His presence filled the space, swallowing the air between them.
He stopped close—too close.
Leila forced herself not to lean away, but her pulse betrayed her, hammering in her throat.
"I'm not a man who waits," he said quietly. There was no aggression in his tone, no need for it. Just an unshakable certainty. "The world moves fast. You either keep up… or you get left behind."
Her breath came a little quicker.
"This is my career. My life," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're asking me to gamble it all."
Cassius tilted his head slightly as if considering her words. Then, with the kind of certainty that made her blood run cold, he said:
"Then don't gamble. Win."
The words hit her harder than they should have.
Because deep down, she knew.
Cassius Beaumont didn't lose.
He didn't ask—he took.
He didn't bargain—he dictated.
And the people who stood against him? They ceased to exist.
Her hands trembled as she reached for the folder.
She shut it.
"Fine," she said, forcing the word past her lips.
Cassius's lips curled—not a smile, not quite. Like he had known she would give in all along.
"Smart choice."
Leila swallowed the bitter taste in her throat. "But I have conditions."
Cassius stilled, his expression flickering with interest. "Do you?"
She held her ground. "I won't destroy innocent people."
For a second, he didn't react. Then, ever so slowly, he leaned in. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped into something quieter. More dangerous.
"Miss Carter," he murmured, "in my world, no one is innocent."
Her breath hitched.
This was it.
The moment she stepped into his world.
And there was no turning back.
Leila stood in front of Cassius's office door, her fingers curled into her palms.
It had only been twelve hours since she signed the contract.
Twelve hours since she made a deal with a man who didn't believe in mercy.
Now, she was being called in for her first assignment.
Her heart pounded, but she squared her shoulders and pushed the door open.
Cassius was behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, fingers steepled together. He didn't look up immediately. He let her wait—let the silence stretch just long enough to remind her that she was in his world now.
Finally, he spoke. "Close the door."
Leila did.
Cassius reached for a slim black envelope and slid it across the desk.
"Inside this is everything you need."
Leila hesitated before picking it up. The paper was thick and expensive. Even his envelopes screamed power.
She pulled out the contents and scanned the first page.
Her breath hitched.
Theodore Kane.
One of the most ruthless investors in the city.
A man accused of laundering millions—but never caught.
Leila had tried to expose him before. Her old editor shut it down in an instant.
Now, Cassius was handing her the chance to take him down.
She looked up slowly. "You want me to investigate Kane?"
Cassius's lips curved slightly. "I want you to do what you do best."
Leila's fingers tightened around the paper.
There had to be a catch. Cassius Beaumont didn't play the hero. He didn't just take down bad men because it was the right thing to do.
"What's your angle?" she asked.
Cassius leaned back, watching her with amusement. "Does it matter?"
It should. It really should.
But the truth?