Chapter 31
Emily Windsor's POV
Was it going to be another bloody gang war? Or maybe an inescapable trap, like the one he'd set for Mr. Carter?
I'd just agreed to come with Luke—was I about to witness another violent spectacle dancing on the edge of the law?
"What's wrong?" He turned his head slightly. In the dim light of the car, shadows carved deep hollows across his face, and for once, those teasing eyes held a trace of genuine amusement. "Miss Windsor, afraid I'm about to break the law?"
The mockery in his tone made my face heat up.
He was right. I was afraid—afraid he'd resort to methods I could never condone, afraid that the fragile thread of connection we'd just established would be torn apart again by blood and fire.
I pressed my lips together and said nothing.
He seemed satisfied with my reaction. Without teasing me further, he simply instructed the driver, "Take us to the IRS."
I froze.
Wait—where? The IRS?
I thought I'd misheard, but the Maybach smoothly changed direction, heading toward Lower Manhattan and that heavily guarded federal building.
My mind went blank. I couldn't connect that place with "tearing down the Lowe Family's stronghold."
Not until the car pulled up in front of the building and Luke handed me a thick manila envelope did reality finally sink in.
He gestured for me to go inside.
Clutching the envelope, my mind full of questions, I walked into the brightly lit lobby of the tax bureau.
Following Luke's instructions, I found a senior supervisor in the Reporting and Investigation Division. He seemed to have been expecting me—he'd been waiting.
In his office, with him watching, I opened the envelope.
When the contents spilled out, my breath caught.
It was stack after stack of meticulously organized documents.
Copies of ledgers from every gray-market operation under the Lowe Family umbrella. Fabricated offshore company transactions. Fake charitable donation records. And dozens of pages of detailed analysis prepared by professional accountants, documenting years of tax evasion.
Every document, every figure, was laid out with ruthless precision—tearing open a gaping, fatal wound in the Lowe Family's seemingly impregnable business empire.
The supervisor's face lit up with barely contained elation.
He knew: this evidence was enough to bury the Lowe Family in years of relentless IRS audits and litigation. Even if it didn't destroy them, it would cripple them.
I walked out of the IRS building into the evening breeze, my mind still reeling.
Sliding back into the car, I stared at the man beside me, calm and composed as ever. My emotions were a tangled mess.
"I thought..." I started, then faltered.
I'd thought he would handle this the gangster way. I never imagined he'd use the most civilized—and most lethal—method of all.
Cutting off the enemy at the root.
For a family like the Lowes, built on illegal dealings but desperate to legitimize their operations, there was nothing more terrifying than being subjected to a full-scale audit by the federal tax machine.
"You thought I'd gather my men and burn down the Lowe estate?" Luke's lips curved slightly, his smile carrying a knowing edge. "Emily, different enemies require different weapons. To take down a bunch of businessmen who've made their fortune exploiting legal loopholes, the law itself is the sharpest blade."
He looked at me, and in his eyes I saw something I'd never seen before—the sharp, clear focus of a reformer. "I told you before. I'm building a new order. In that order, violence is the last resort, not the only one."
In that moment, a crack finally appeared in the wall of hatred and distrust I'd built around my heart.
I might never be able to accept the blood on his hands. But I had to admit—he was using his own methods to steer this tangled, corrupt underworld kingdom toward an entirely different path.
And that path... wasn't entirely opposed to the principles I believed in.
"Luke," I said, looking at him—and for the first time, I meant it from the bottom of my heart. "Thank you."
He said nothing. He simply reached out, his fingertips brushing lightly against my cheek. In those ice-blue eyes, I saw emotions too deep and complex for me to decipher.
The car glided smoothly back toward the Victor Estate.
When those familiar wrought-iron gates slowly opened, my state of mind was completely different from when we'd left.
This place was no longer a prison. It felt more like the calm at the center of a storm—a stronghold where he and I stood together, fighting against the old world.
We walked side by side into the brilliantly lit main house. The air still seemed to carry traces of the cemetery's cold cypress scent, along with a subtle new understanding between us.
But that tranquility shattered the instant we stepped into the living room.
"Luke!"
A woman in a red backless gown flew down the spiral staircase like a butterfly in full bloom.
She had long, voluminous golden waves of hair, striking features, and a body so curvaceous it was impossible to look away.
I stopped short in the entryway, frozen.
The woman was already in front of Luke. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around him in a tight embrace, then planted two loud, affectionate kisses on his cheeks—European-style.
"You're finally back! I was starting to think some little temptress had stolen you away and you'd forgotten all about home." Her voice was silky and flirtatious, tinged with playful reproach. Her arms looped around Luke's neck, her body practically draped over his.
Luke seemed mildly surprised, but he didn't push her away. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. "What are you doing here?"
"I missed you, obviously." She laughed, a light, tinkling sound. Then her gaze shifted—and landed on me.
She looked me up and down, her eyes full of undisguised scrutiny and hostility. Finally, her gaze lingered on my conservative black dress, and a contemptuous smile tugged at her lips.
"And who's this?" she asked, her tone still sweet but now laced with the arrogance of someone marking her territory.
I stood there, feeling like an intruder in someone else's domain—awkward, out of place, unwanted.
The warmth and understanding that had bloomed between us in the car vanished instantly, doused in ice water.
So there was already a woman this close to him.
Then what was I?