Chapter 290

I could feel my heart pounding as I stepped into the office. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made my skin prickle. Victor was already there, his piercing gaze locked onto me the moment I entered. He had that unreadable expression again—the one that sent shivers down my spine.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to walk forward. "We need to talk," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

He leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, studying me as if he were trying to read between the lines of everything I wasn't saying. "Then talk."

I took a deep breath. "Why is she here?" I asked, my words sharper than intended.

His jaw tightened. "You know why."

"Do I? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like she's doing everything she can to get between us." I hated how raw my voice sounded, but I couldn't help it. The thought of that woman, always lingering too close to him, made my stomach twist.

Victor sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're overthinking this. She's just here for business."

I scoffed. "Right. Just business. Like the way she touches your arm when she talks? Or the way she looks at you like you're the only man in the world? Is that business too?"

He pushed off the desk, closing the space between us. "Clara, you need to trust me."

I looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. "And what if I can't?"

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I saw something flicker there—something dangerous, possessive. "Then I'll just have to make you."

Before I could respond, he cupped my face, his grip firm yet gentle. My breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a way that sent a fire through my veins.

"You're mine, Clara," he murmured against my lips. "And no one—not her, not anyone—is going to change that."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to let go of the doubt clawing at my chest. But deep down, I knew this wasn't over. Not yet.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I tried to focus on my work, but my thoughts kept circling back to Victor, to the way his voice had dropped into something almost menacing when he told me I was his.

By the time evening rolled around, I was exhausted—mentally, emotionally. Yet, when I stepped out of the office, she was there, leaning against her car, a smug smile playing on her lips.

"Clara," she greeted me, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

I stopped in my tracks, every muscle in my body tensing. "What do you want?"

She tilted her head, examining me as if I were some interesting puzzle. "I just wanted to clear the air. You seem… uneasy."

I crossed my arms. "You think?"

She laughed, a sound that made my skin crawl. "You don’t have to worry about me. Victor and I—well, we go way back. I know how he works. How he thinks. And I know how this ends."

I narrowed my eyes. "And how does it end?"

She stepped closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "With you getting hurt."

My stomach tightened, but I refused to let her see it. "You don’t know anything about us."

"Don’t I?" She sighed, feigning disappointment. "You’re just another piece in his game. And when he’s done, he’ll move on. He always does."

I clenched my fists at my sides. "We’ll see about that."

She smirked, as if she had already won. "Yes, we will."

As she walked away, I forced myself to take deep breaths, to keep my emotions in check. But the truth was, her words had hit a nerve.

That night, Victor found me pacing in our penthouse, my thoughts tangled in frustration and doubt.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

I turned to face him, my arms wrapping around myself. "She talked to me. She told me you'd leave me. That I'm just another piece in your game."

His expression darkened, and in two strides, he was in front of me, gripping my chin to force me to look at him. "And do you believe her?"

I swallowed hard. "I don’t know."

His jaw tensed. "You should. Because the only thing she's right about is that I play to win. And Clara? I don’t lose."

His lips crashed against mine, possessive, demanding, as if trying to silence every doubt lingering in my mind. And for a moment, I let myself believe him.

But doubts don’t disappear with kisses.

I laid awake that night, Victor’s arms heavy around me, his breath warm against my neck. Yet, sleep wouldn’t come. Her words played in my mind on an endless loop.

He always moves on.

I turned carefully in his embrace, watching the man beside me. Even in sleep, he looked powerful, in control. But could I ever truly have that control over him?

Morning came with a different tension. Victor was already awake, standing by the window, shirtless, his gaze lost in the city lights still flickering under the sunrise.

When he turned, his eyes locked on mine, and something inside me shifted.

"You're thinking too much again," he murmured, walking towards the bed.

I forced a small smile. "And you're too confident."

He smirked, leaning down, his lips ghosting over my forehead. "That’s what makes me win, Clara. And I don’t intend to lose you."