Chapter 48
Emily Windsor's POV
Luke clicked open several contract files. "These partnership agreements were drafted by the Victor family's top-tier legal team. They're virtually airtight. Either party attempting unilateral termination would sustain crippling losses. That's precisely why those old fossils in the conservative faction feel so emboldened."
I leaned closer, my gaze settling on the densely packed clauses.
My lawyer's instincts kicked in instantly. The warmth in my eyes receded, replaced by a sharp, professional scrutiny.
I read at breakneck speed, skimming through a hundred-page German contract in mere minutes.
"Wait. Something's off." I pointed at a section on the screen. "This German mining company—the contract lists Hamburg as its registered address, but its actual controlling entity is a trust fund registered in Luxembourg. Under last year's EU anti-tax avoidance directive, this kind of 'dual offshore' ownership structure has been flagged as high-risk. All we need to do is submit an anonymous tip to the EU Antitrust Commission, and they'll freeze their assets pending investigation. During the probe, the contract is automatically suspended. We wouldn't owe a single cent in breach penalties."
A flicker of surprise crossed Luke's eyes.
I clicked on another contract with a Panamanian shipping company. "And this one—they're exploiting legal loopholes in Panama, registering their vessels under shell companies to dodge hefty insurance premiums and taxes. But they overlooked one detail: this shipping route passes through Singapore. As long as our ships dock there for resupply, we can invoke the 'beneficial ownership' clause and petition the Singapore Maritime Court to detain their vessel, citing failure to provide compliant insurance documentation and posing a safety hazard. When that happens, they'll be the ones scrambling to negotiate a settlement."
My words came faster as my mind raced. What the Victor family's legal team had deemed ironclad contracts were riddled with vulnerabilities in my eyes.
"These so-called financial firms are essentially money-laundering conduits. We could—"
I rattled off loopholes in seven or eight company contracts in one breath, swiftly constructing an interlocking legal offensive. Not only could the Victor family extricate itself from these quagmires unscathed, but we could also turn the tables and bleed those "rabid dogs" dry financially.
When I finished, silence hung in the air.
I looked up to find Luke staring at me, his eyes brimming with astonishment and admiration.
He gazed at me as if seeing me for the first time. That look held appreciation, heat, and ultimately, an unmistakable pride that seemed about to overflow.
He let out a low laugh, pulling me into his arms in one swift motion. He held me tight, his chin brushing against my hair, his voice thick with barely contained delight.
"Emily," he murmured, "you're brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."
Just as I basked in the exhilaration of fighting alongside him, a rhythmic knock interrupted our conversation.
The appreciation and smile in Luke's eyes vanished instantly, his composure snapping back into place.
"Come in," he said coolly.
A lean, sharp-featured young man pushed the door open—Luke's chief of staff, Andy.
His gaze remained straight ahead, as though completely oblivious to the lingering intimacy in the room or the fact that I was still wearing Luke's robe. He merely bowed slightly and reported with clipped efficiency, "Mr. Reed, trouble at the docks. A shipment we were handling jointly with Nordic Shipping Company has been forcibly detained by their people. The regional manager is making a scene, demanding to see you. He's claiming we breached contract first."
Nordic Shipping Company—one of the very firms whose contracts I'd just dissected for fatal flaws.
Clearly, they'd caught wind of something and were here to test the waters.
"Understood." Luke's tone betrayed no emotion.
Andy nodded and was about to leave when Luke stopped him. "Prepare the car. We're going to the docks."
As he spoke, he rose and began changing. In moments, he'd slipped into an impeccably tailored black shirt, cufflinks glinting coldly under the light.
In the blink of an eye, the man who'd shown me tenderness transformed back into the ruthless, commanding CEO of the Victor Group.
I watched him, then stood as well.
"I'm coming with you."
Luke's fingers paused mid-button. He turned to look at me, a trace of disapproval in his eyes. "It's chaotic down there. Stay here."
"You said I could be your weapon." I met his gaze, my resolve unshaken. "Weapons don't belong in the safety of the rear guard. I want to see your battlefield with my own eyes."
This wasn't just rhetoric—it was the first step I was taking after making up my mind.
I couldn't strategize solely from the safety of an office. I needed to understand everything he faced, including the conflicts and dangers lurking in the gray zones.
Luke studied me for several seconds, emotions churning in those unfathomable eyes. Finally, he didn't refuse. He merely said in a low voice, "Stay close to me."
"Okay."
---
The docks at night were drenched in the briny, damp chill of sea wind. Massive cranes loomed like silent steel beasts, casting menacing shadows in the darkness. The air reeked of rust and diesel fuel.
By the time we arrived, Luke's people had already cleared the central conflict zone.
From a distance, I could see several men in Nordic Shipping Company uniforms pinned to the ground. Among them, a blond, blue-eyed man was being held down, unable to move.
A black-clad bodyguard crouched in front of him, a dark, heavy gun in hand. The cold muzzle pressed mercilessly against the man's temple.
"Last chance. Who sent you? What did the Lowe Family promise you?" The bodyguard's voice was low but laced with unmistakable menace.
The manager was clearly terrified out of his wits, trembling violently, babbling incoherently in a jumbled mix of English and German as he begged for mercy.
My steps faltered instinctively, my heart clenching painfully.
Though I'd mentally prepared myself, knowing Luke's world couldn't always be gentle, seeing such raw violence and threats play out before my eyes still triggered a visceral wave of discomfort and resistance.
In my world, weapons were laws, evidence, rigorous courtroom arguments.
Here, weapons were guns—cold steel capable of snuffing out lives in an instant. The stark cognitive dissonance made my blood run cold.
I thought I'd masked it well, but the man beside me sensed my stiffness immediately.
Luke didn't look at me, his gaze still fixed ahead, but the hand holding mine tightened ever so slightly, the warmth of his palm radiating reassurance.
Then I saw him give Andy an almost imperceptible glance.
It was fleeting, so quick I nearly thought I'd imagined it.
But in the next instant, Andy clearly understood. He strode forward briskly, tapping the armed bodyguard on the shoulder and murmuring something.
The bodyguard immediately holstered his weapon, stood, and joined the others in roughly hauling the half-conscious manager off the ground. They shoved him into a black van without ceremony.
The entire sequence was swift and seamless, no hesitation.
The tense interrogation scene from moments before dissolved into nothing at Luke's single glance.
The sea wind still howled, but my taut nerves inexplicably loosened.
I turned my head to look at the man beside me. His handsome profile was sharply defined in the dim dock lighting, his expression as impassive as ever, as if nothing had happened.
But I knew. He'd done it.
He'd sensed my unease, and so he'd changed the rules—for me.
Not with words, but with action, telling me that as long as he was here, my world didn't have to be tainted by his darkness.
Something deep inside me was struck hard by this silent tenderness, rippling with delicate warmth and an ache that spread through my chest.
Luke always found ways to make my heart skip for him, again and again.