Chapter 14: Two Faces, Playing with Fire

Elizabeth's expression softened slightly, thinking he'd finally grasped the severity of the situation.

Then Caesar pulled a crumpled expense report from his pocket and slapped it onto the coffee table.

"I just started. To build rapport with the team and strengthen department cohesion, I need to申请 some funds for a team-building event. Ms. Williams, if you could just sign off on this."

Elizabeth froze.

Her gaze traveled slowly from Caesar's earnest face down to the wrinkled form on the table.

Then—

A sharp, piercing scream tore through the entire top floor.

"Caesar!"

Elizabeth was shaking with rage. How had she ever thought this shameless lunatic could solve her problems?

Her voice could've frozen hell over. "I don't care what it takes. Bring Brian back. Now."

Caesar shook his head and set down his coffee cup, genuine disappointment coloring his tone.

"And here I thought you missed my kiss and that's why you called me up here."

"This little thing? Hardly worth the dramatic summons."

Elizabeth's temple throbbed violently.

Caesar's fingers drummed lightly on the desk, stopping her explosion before it could detonate.

"Take a look at this first."

He tossed a manila envelope onto the desk.

Elizabeth shot him a suspicious glare, then reached for the stack of documents inside.

Second page. Third. Fourth...

Elizabeth's expression shifted rapidly—from casual disinterest to shock, and finally to towering fury.

She never imagined Brian would have the audacity to go this far.

Tax evasion. Tax fraud. Amounts large enough to bring catastrophic consequences down on the entire company.

Elizabeth's head snapped up, her eyes boring into Caesar. "Is this information... reliable?"

Caesar stirred his coffee with elegant precision, not even glancing her way.

"Sweetheart, don't challenge my expertise with your amateur hour."

Elizabeth's lashes trembled sharply.

How the hell had he gotten his hands on something this buried?

For the first time, a thought crept into her mind: Could I have been wrong about him?

She was still working up the nerve to swallow her pride and say something when Caesar spoke first.

"You owe me one."

Elizabeth blinked.

She'd expected him to leverage this moment into some outrageous demand. But he didn't. The disconnect left her momentarily off-balance.

To cover her confusion, Elizabeth slammed her hand on the desk and forced the conversation back to business.

"Don't think this gets you off the hook! Do you have any idea how many projects Brian was managing? Do you know what those contracts are worth?!"

Caesar laced his hands behind his head and leaned back into the sofa, the picture of lazy confidence.

His tone was breezy. "Whatever his projects are worth, I'll make you double. Problem solved."

A predatory gleam flashed through Elizabeth's cold eyes.

"You said it." She pounced on the opening. "That's a promise. If you can't deliver, you resign and explain it to my father yourself."

Caesar's lazy smile faltered for half a second.

"Little fox," he murmured, sitting up slowly. "You're playing me."

Elizabeth crossed her arms, lifting her chin with regal defiance. "A man worth a hundred-million-dollar contract wouldn't go back on his word, would he, Mr. Montague?"

Caesar's eyes narrowed.

The air in the office went still—heavy, suffocating.

A chill shot down Elizabeth's spine.

Every instinct screamed danger.

Her heart lurched. She turned, trying to create distance.

But Caesar was faster.

A blur of motion—and suddenly he was there, blocking her path. His towering frame caged her against the wall. No escape.

She was forced to tilt her head back and meet those bottomless, predatory eyes.

"What... what do you think you're doing?" For the first time, Elizabeth's voice carried a tremor she didn't recognize in herself.

Caesar said nothing.

He simply studied her—slowly, deliberately, like a wolf sizing up prey.

"Listen carefully, woman." His voice was quiet. Lethal. "Don't ever think you can put a leash on me. No one controls me. Not even you."

Knock knock knock.

The sudden rapping at the door shattered the tension.

Elizabeth shoved Caesar back hard.

"What is it?"

"Ms. Williams, the motorcade is ready. We can leave whenever you are."

"Understood." Elizabeth answered curtly, then turned to Caesar. "You're coming with me."

Caesar's mouth curved into a teasing smirk. "Where to? Already lining up a date?"

She bit back the urge to hurl the folder straight into his face and forced the words through clenched teeth. "Unless the world ends, don't even dream about it."

"My father's hosting a dinner. For you. A welcome."

The moment Caesar heard it was Raymond hosting, his enthusiasm deflated like a punctured balloon.

"Not going." He didn't even hesitate. "What's the point of eating with some old guy? I'd much rather have our alone time."

Elizabeth's jaw locked tight.

People who wanted a dinner invitation from her father could form a line from Manhattan to London.

And this bastard had the nerve to look disgusted.

She glared at him with those stunning eyes. "Caesar. This is an order. You are going."

Caesar perked up at that, leaning in close with a wicked gleam in his eye, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Oh? Ordering me around with that tone? Guess you really did enjoy that kiss. Want another one?"

"CAESAR!" Elizabeth's shriek nearly rattled the windows.

How did this man manage to twist every single sentence into that?

Caesar raised both hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Alright, alright. I'll go. Since you're being so... persuasive, I suppose I can humor you."

Elizabeth ground her teeth and fought to regain her composure.

The two of them left the office one after the other, Emily trailing behind. The elevator descended directly to the underground garage.

For security reasons, Elizabeth's vehicle rotated unpredictably.

Today's ride was a heavily modified Cullinan—sleek black bodywork gleaming coldly under the overhead lights.

Bulletproof plating. Run-flat tires. Eight hundred horsepower. Every detail engineered to the highest security standard.

Five suited security personnel stood ready. Leading them was a broad-shouldered young man—Theo Gonzalez, head of her protection detail.

The moment he spotted Elizabeth, Theo stepped forward. "Ms. Williams, we're ready to move."

Elizabeth nodded and moved toward the vehicle—until Caesar's hand shot out and blocked her path.

She looked up at him, confused.

His expression had completely changed from moments ago in the office.

Caesar's gaze swept over Theo and the other four guards with the cold precision of a hunting hawk.

"Today's schedule is canceled." His voice wasn't loud, but it carried absolute authority.

He locked eyes with Theo and spoke slowly, deliberately. "All five of you. You're fired."

The garage air turned to ice.

Elizabeth's face went cold. "Caesar, what the hell are you doing?!"

Caesar's expression didn't flicker. He met her gaze head-on, his tone dead serious. "I have final authority over your security. Don't forget that."

He paused, then shifted his attention back to the guards, whose faces had gone rigid.

"This vehicle and all of you—unsafe. The trip is canceled."

Elizabeth had no rebuttal. Those had been her father's exact words.

But Theo's brow furrowed into a hard line. Caesar's declaration was a brutal insult to their professional careers.

"Sir, I don't understand what you're—"

"You don't need to understand," Caesar cut him off coldly. "Your positioning. Your perimeter awareness. Your environmental scanning. All of it—full of holes. If I were an assassin, Ms. Williams would've been dead three times over between the elevator and right now."

"Amateur trash doesn't get to protect her."