Chapter 9

**The Warning**

The Langston gala was a new type of battleground. Unlike the controlled beauty of Jack’s world, this one was tinged with something sharper, more lethal. Deals were whispered in corners, smiles were daggers wrapped in silk, and every look bore a double meaning. It was here, amid the wolves, that I first talked to Victor Langston.

Jack had been dragged away the instant we arrived, engrossed into a talk with oil tycoons and venture capitalists. I was left to navigate the evening alone, my presence recognized but inconsequential. That was when Victor discovered me.

"Mrs. Sterling," he remarked effortlessly, standing at my side with a glass of champagne in hand. His voice was pleasant, yet there was an edge to it, a subtle challenge hiding behind the sweetness. "Enjoying the party?"

I turned to face him, taking in the sharp features, the piercing green eyes that carried humor and calculating in equal measure. Victor Langston was a name I knew well. He was one of Jack’s strongest rivals, a guy who lived on discovering fractures in his opponents and enlarging them until they broke.

"It’s... different," I said cautiously, taking the drink he gave though I had no intention of swallowing it.

His lips twisted into a knowing smile. "Indeed. But you’ll discover that in our world, difference frequently masks the truth. And truth, Mrs. Sterling, is a rare and frightening thing."

A shiver raced down my spine. I wasn’t naïve enough to miss the implication. "Are you saying something specific, Mr. Langston, or are we speaking in riddles tonight?"

Victor laughed, a deep, rich sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’m saying that trust is a fragile commodity, especially in a marriage like yours."

My fingers curled around the stem of my glass. "And what exactly do you know about my marriage?"

He cocked his head, as if contemplating his next words carefully. "Only that Jack Sterling never does anything without a cause. And that his motivations are seldom what they appear."

The air between us thickened, the hubbub of the gala receding into the background. I wanted to prod him for more, to demand details, but something told me he wouldn’t offer them readily. He wanted me to put everything together myself.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked instead, my voice low.

Victor’s sneer faded somewhat. "Because sometimes, the most harmful falsehoods are the ones spoken by the people closest to us. And I’d hate to see such a gorgeous lady fall prey to one."

A flawless evasion, but I could feel the truth buried behind it. He wasn’t warning me out of compassion. This was strategy. Jack and Victor were adversaries, and I was simply another piece on their board.

"If you know something, say it," I said, getting closer. "What aren’t you telling me?"

For the first time, Victor paused. It was fleeting, almost undetectable, but I caught it. Then, as if reaching a choice, he leaned in, his voice lowering so only I could hear.

"Your husband isn’t the guy you believe he is, Amelia. And if you keep digging for the truth, you may not like what you discover."

My breath hitched, my heart banging into my ribs. "What does that mean?"

But before he could respond, a person appeared behind me.

"Amelia," Jack’s voice was silky, but I knew that tone well enough to understand the warning behind it. I turned to see him studying us, his stare icy, scrutinizing.

Victor straightened, his smirk returning as if it had never gone. "Jack," he welcomed, swirling his drink lazily. "We were just having the most fascinating conversation."

Jack’s arm slipped around my waist, pressing me into him in a manner that was both possessive and protective. "Were you?" he muttered, his eyes never leaving Victor’s.

Victor’s sneer grew. "Oh, you know me. Always interested in... spoken truths."

The tension between them flared, a quiet struggle of wills playing out right before me. Jack’s grasp on me tightened slightly before he tilted his head. "You should be cautious, Victor. Sometimes, curiosity may be hazardous."

"Ah, but so is ignorance," Victor responded, raising his glass in a faux toast before walking out, leaving a tempest in his wake.

I sighed, just now understanding how fiercely my heart was thumping. Jack turned to me, his countenance opaque. "What did he say to you?"

I hesitated. There was a part of me that wanted to tell him everything, to hurl Victor’s comments back at him and demand answers. But another part, the one that had been burnt by Jack’s secrets previously, cautioned me to be wary.

"Nothing," I lied. "Just small talk."

Jack examined me for a long while, and I knew he didn’t believe me. But instead of pushing, he merely nodded. "Stay away from him. He’s dangerous."

I nearly chuckled at the irony. "And you’re not?"

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed my hand, bringing me away from the party, away from Victor, away from the whispers that had sowed seeds of doubt in my mind.

But no matter how far we traveled, I couldn’t escape the sensation that Victor’s warning wasn’t simply a joke.

And that whatever truth Jack was concealing... it was just a matter of time until I found it.

That night, as I lay awake in our chilly, enormous bedroom, I repeated Victor’s comments over and again. My marriage had always been predicated on meticulous bargaining, but for the first time, I felt like I was actually at a disadvantage. If Jack was concealing secrets, what were they? And why did Victor care enough to warn me?

Just as sleep started to grab me, I heard the faint sound of Jack’s study door shutting. Slipping from the bed, I went silently along the dimly lighted corridor. The door was ajar, light seeping through the breach. I glanced inside

Jack sat at his desk, phone in hand, his countenance inscrutable. But it wasn’t his appearance that made my stomach plummet. It was the file open before him, my name printed in large characters across the top.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. What the heck was Jack Sterling concealing from me?