Chapter 73 74
The deeper I went, the weirder it got. No university degree, yet somehow she’d been a guest speaker at high-profile finance summits. Every time she showed up, certain stocks jumped — and certain investors disappeared from the public eye.
I leaned back in my chair, the glow from my laptop making the room feel colder.
A prodigy? Possibly.
A fraud? Not likely — too many confirmed wins.
Bait? Now that was interesting.
Because Krystal’s pattern didn’t just make money… it drew people in. Rich, greedy people. The type who’d think they were hunting her, right up until they realized they were the prey.
I didn’t know yet if she was playing the game or was the game.
But one thing was certain — sooner or later, I’d have to meet Krystal Hunter in person.
And I’d better be ready when I did.
The next day. I did not expect to see her soon.
Krystal Hunter walked into my office like she was already halfway through a negotiation — sharp heels on marble, folder in hand, not a flicker of hesitation.
She didn’t wait to be invited to sit. Just tossed the folder on my desk, the papers sliding toward me like a gauntlet thrown.
“These need cleaning,” she said. “And I need it fast.”
I leaned back in my chair, letting the leather creak. “Cleaning,” I repeated, dragging my gaze from her face to the neatly bound documents. “That’s an interesting choice of words.”
“They’re perfectly legitimate,” she added, though the way her mouth curved on “perfectly” made me doubt she believed it. “But the timing, the volume… let’s just say some people might take it the wrong way.”
I flipped open the file. New acquisitions, multiple markets, all high-risk tech plays tied to shell companies in three countries. If she’d come to me before, I might have assumed she was naïve. Now, I knew better — Krystal Hunter didn’t stumble into anything.
“You realize,” I said, glancing up at her, “that if these aren’t airtight, you’re inviting a regulatory bloodbath.”
She crossed one leg over the other, unfazed. “That’s why I’m here. I heard you were the man who could make inconvenient paperwork disappear.”
I smiled slowly, savoring the way she tossed the bait without knowing if I’d bite. “I could… but it comes at a cost.”
“I can pay.”
“I’m not talking about money.”
Her eyebrow arched, but she didn’t flinch. “Then what?”
I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I stood, circling around my desk until I was close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume — something expensive and dangerously subtle. “Let’s call it… ongoing consultation. Exclusive. You work with me, and only me.”
“That sounds possessive.”
“That sounds effective,” I corrected. “And it keeps people like you from making… unfortunate mistakes.”
We locked eyes — hers steady, mine deliberate. I could see the calculation ticking behind her gaze. She wasn’t just deciding if she could trust me… she was deciding if she could handle me.
When she finally stood, the air between us was taut.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
I let her reach the door before I called after her, “Do that, Krystal. But remember — once you’re in my hands, I don’t let go easily.”
She glanced back, a faint, knowing smile curving her lips.
Good.
Let the game begin.
Krystal Hunter – POV
Unbeknownst to Darren Johnson, the oh-so-slick attorney with the leather-chair lean and that “I’m the smartest man in the room” smile… he had just walked straight into my trap.
And boy, would he be surprised when he realized he was the one dancing to my tune.
I watched him today — the way he circled me in that office like a well-dressed predator sizing up his next meal. Cute. Almost flattering. The problem with men like Darren is they believe the conversation starts when they open their mouths. Mine had started two weeks ago, with Tomas.
Tomas, my quiet little miracle worker, had already made the arrangements. Paperwork filed. Dummy accounts seeded. A few conveniently placed breadcrumbs in the market, just enough to make Darren think I was dangling bait for him to snatch. By the time he “fixed” my problem, he’d be fixing it exactly the way I wanted — setting the stage for a bigger play.
But I wasn’t thinking about that in his office.
No, in his office I was thinking about how much fun it was to let him believe he was the one in control. That look in his eyes — the “exclusive consultation” pitch — it was practically adorable. Like a cat bringing me a dead mouse and expecting praise.
After I left, I didn’t go home. I went to TK Base. My spot. Industrial brick walls, deep leather booths, and the best pistachio ice cream in the city. I slid into my usual seat in the corner, dropped my bag beside me, and pulled out my phone.
The server didn’t even ask. Five minutes later, I had a triple scoop of pistachio drowning in dark chocolate drizzle and a tall glass of sparkling water.
Ice cream is the best planning food. Cold enough to keep your head clear, sweet enough to keep your mood sharp. I spooned up a mouthful, thinking about Darren’s little “I don’t let go easily” line. Cute, but I’ve seen men like him let go real fast — usually right before they realize they’ve been holding onto a live wire.
Tomas texted me mid-bite:
Shipment confirmed. Friday. Paperwork ready. He’ll sign without knowing.
Perfect.
I kicked off my heels under the table, crossed my legs, and kept eating. Darren thought I was walking into his net. What he didn’t know was that his net had holes I’d cut myself, and when the time came, I’d be the one deciding whether he swam free… or sank.
Men like Darren thrive on the chase. They just don’t always notice when they’re the ones being chased back.
And honestly? I can’t wait to watch his face when he figures it out.