Chapter 11
Emily Windsor's POV
"Marco," Luke's voice dropped half a degree, carrying an edge of warning, "Miss Windsor is my guest."
"Of course, of course." Marco raised both hands in mock innocence. "I just wanted to chat with Miss Windsor about the case. After all, she is the Victor family's legal counsel now, isn't she?"
He turned his gaze on me, his smile deepening with unspoken meaning. "Miss Windsor, the witness you've been searching for? They're not as far away as you think."
My heart lurched. I glanced at Luke.
Luke didn't look at me—his eyes remained locked on Marco, ice-blue irises brewing a storm.
"Marco oversees the family's finances," Luke finally said, his voice flat. "Every dollar that moves through this operation crosses his desk."
He was the key witness I've been looking for.
"Miss Windsor, if there's anything you'd like to know," Marco said with the smile of a fox circling prey, "feel free to come find me. I'd be delighted to answer any questions."
He winked at me, then melted back into the crowd.
The terrace fell silent, leaving just Luke and me.
"He's your breakthrough?" My voice came out dry.
"He's a double-edged sword." Luke watched Marco disappear, his expression glacial. "He knows every secret—but he could just as easily turn that blade on you."
"Then why introduce him to me?"
Luke turned to face me fully.
His gaze was too intense, as if the entire world had narrowed to just the two of us.
He lifted his hand, fingertips grazing my cheek—the cold touch made me flinch.
"Because," he leaned down, his warm breath ghosting over my ear, voice low and rough, laced with lethal temptation, "I want to see who you'll choose to cut when the sharpest knife falls into your hands."
My heartbeat stuttered, my body going rigid.
"And I," his smile deepened, ice-blue eyes igniting with dark flames—pure, undisguised possession—"will make sure that knife never touches you."
He straightened, reclaiming my arm with an intimacy that suggested we were lovers mid-affair.
"Come along, Miss Windsor," he murmured. "The show has only just begun."
He half-dragged me back to the center of the ballroom. On the dance floor, a waltz had just started. Luke extended his hand in invitation—I couldn't refuse.
When his hand settled on my waist, pulling me into the rhythm, I felt like a butterfly caught in a spider's web—every struggle only drew the silk tighter around me.
In the dance, my body moved with Luke's lead—spinning, drawing close, the wine-red velvet of my gown blooming and contracting against his black suit like a dangerous flower unfurling in the dark.
Every movement was precise, elegant. To everyone watching, we were the most striking pair in the room.
But only I knew how scalding his hand felt at my waist, the unyielding pressure that held me captive in his orbit.
"Jacob's here." Luke's voice rumbled low near my ear, his breath carrying the cold scent of cigar smoke, raising goosebumps along my skin.
I followed his gaze instinctively. There, in the crowd, I spotted Jacob.
He stood beside a heavyset middle-aged man, the two engaged in animated conversation.
As if sensing my stare, Jacob's hand—holding a champagne flute—froze mid-gesture. He looked up, meeting my eyes. When he saw Luke beside me, Luke's hand possessive at my waist, the warm, practiced smile on Jacob's face solidified into something dark and complicated.
A twisted satisfaction unfurled in my chest, spreading like vines choking my heart.
"Emily," Luke had caught my reaction, ice-blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Do you want him to pay?"
His voice was hypnotic, striking directly at the desire buried deepest in my heart.
I didn't answer, letting him guide me through another turn, but my gaze remained locked on Jacob.
The man I'd once believed I'd spend my life with. The man who'd trampled my devotion into dust.
"I don't just want him to pay," I said, lifting my chin to meet Luke's fathomless stare, my voice ice-cold. "I want everything he took from me back. I want him ruined."
"Good." Luke's lips curved with satisfaction.
When the waltz ended, he didn't release me. Instead, he steered me toward a secluded corner of the terrace.
The night breeze lifted the loose strands by my face, clearing some of the fog from my mind.
"I can help you," Luke said, leaning against the railing with deceptive ease, his tone brooking no argument. "I can strip Jacob of everything he has—including that law firm he's so proud of."
Shock jolted through me. In New York, Jacob's firm was an industry titan—bringing it down would be no small feat. Yet Luke spoke of it as casually as crushing an insect beneath his heel.
"What's your price?" I wasn't naive. I knew the devil's gifts always came with a receipt.
"Become my private legal counsel." Luke laid out his terms, ice-blue eyes sharp as a raptor's in the darkness. "I need someone to handle all of the Victor family's legitimate business operations—separate them completely from the shadows. And you, Emily, are the perfect candidate."
The implications were staggering.
He wasn't just cleaning house—he was planning a complete restructuring of the entire family empire.
This was a project of unimaginable scale, fraught with unknown dangers. It also meant I'd have access to the Victor family's most guarded secrets.
"This legal counsel position," I said, weighing risks and rewards with clinical precision, "does it also mean I'd belong to you?"
Luke's low laugh rumbled through the night air. He stepped closer, long fingers gripping my chin, forcing my head up. His gaze raked over my face with undisguised hunger, inch by possessive inch.
"Miss Windsor," his voice turned rough, almost hypnotic, "don't you think we're already past that point?"
My pulse went haywire. I forced myself to look away, keeping my voice steady. "I need time to think."
"You have three days." Luke released me, his tone reverting to its usual command. "Three days from now, I expect to see you in my office—with your answer."