As the night wore on, Eva worked the room, charming her way through conversations with Victor's associates. She was careful to keep her distance from Liam and Sophia, but she made sure Victor saw her—laughing with a senator, touching a CEO's arm, her every move designed to draw his attention. By the time the gala was winding down, she could feel his gaze on her, heavy and unrelenting.
She was preparing to leave when a hand grazed her arm. She turned to find Victor, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with intent.
"Leaving so soon?" he asked, his voice low enough to feel intimate.
Eva's lips curved into a teasing smile. "All good things end, don't they?"
"Not always," he said, stepping closer. His scent—whiskey and cedar—wrapped around her, dizzying. "Some things are just beginning."
Her breath hitched, but she held his gaze, letting the moment stretch. "Is that a promise, Mr. Blackwood?"
"It's whatever you want it to be," he said, his voice a velvet caress. "But I'll warn you, Eva—I don't play games I can't win."
She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "Good. Neither do I."
She pulled back, her heart racing, and walked away without looking back. The weight of his stare followed her, a promise and a threat all at once. As she stepped into the cool night air, Eva felt a rush of exhilaration. She'd crossed the first line, set the first trap. Victor was intrigued, maybe even hooked. But the game was just beginning, and Eva was ready to play dirty.
Inside her, though, a small voice whispered a warning. Victor wasn't Liam. He was sharper, more dangerous, a man who could destroy her as easily as she planned to destroy him. And that spark she'd felt—the one that wasn't part of her plan—terrified her. She pushed it down, burying it beneath her rage. There was no room for weakness, not now.
As she hailed a cab, Eva's mind drifted to Liam and Sophia, their laughter still echoing in her ears. They thought they'd won, thought they'd left her in the dust. But they were wrong. Eva was coming for them, and when she was done, they'd beg for the mercy she'd never give.
______
The city skyline glittered like a jagged crown through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Eva's apartment, but her eyes were fixed on the mirror before her. She stood in a silk robe, her hair loose and wild, her lips still tingling from the memory of Victor's voice, his breath so close to her ear at the gala two nights ago. That moment had ignited something in her—a spark she couldn't afford, but one she couldn't extinguish either. Tonight, she'd fan it into a flame, one that would burn bright enough to blind Liam and Sophia to their own destruction.
Her plan was simple but perilous: get closer to Victor, close enough to make him crave her, to make him reckless. She'd spent the last 48 hours researching him obsessively—his habits, his weaknesses, his empire. Victor Blackwood was a man who thrived on control, but every man had a breaking point. Eva intended to find his.
She'd secured an invitation to a private dinner at the Blackwood estate, a low-key event for Victor's inner circle. Liam had mentioned these dinners in passing, describing them as "stuffy" and "boring." Perfect. Fewer eyes, more opportunities to work her magic. The invitation had cost her another favor from a shady contact, but it was worth it. Tonight, she'd step into Victor's world and make herself unforgettable.
Eva slipped into a deep emerald dress, its fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin. The neckline plunged just enough to tease, the slit up the thigh promising more than it revealed. She paired it with stiletto heels and a delicate gold choker, her every choice calculated to draw Victor's attention. Her reflection stared back, fierce and untouchable, but beneath the surface, her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and dread. This wasn't just a game anymore—it was a war, and she was both soldier and casualty.
The drive to the Blackwood estate was a blur, the city fading into sprawling suburbs and then into the gated opulence of Victor's domain. The mansion loomed like a fortress, all sharp angles and dark stone, its windows glowing with warm light. Eva's stomach twisted as she stepped out of the cab, her heels sinking slightly into the gravel drive. She was an intruder here, a wolf in sheep's clothing, and the thrill of it made her blood sing.
A butler ushered her inside, and the interior was as intimidating as the exterior: marble floors, towering ceilings, and art that screamed wealth. The dining room was intimate, with a long mahogany table set for ten. Eva's breath caught as she spotted Victor at the head of the table, his presence commanding even in casual conversation. He wore a charcoal suit, no tie, the top button of his shirt undone to reveal a sliver of tanned skin. His eyes found hers the moment she entered, and the air seemed to thicken, charged with the memory of their gala encounter.
"Eva," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver through her. He rose, gesturing to the seat beside him. "I'm glad you could join us."
The other guests—business associates, a politician, a socialite—barely registered as Eva took her seat, her movements deliberate. She could feel Victor's gaze on her, heavy and unyielding, and she met it with a slow, provocative smile. "Wouldn't miss it," she said, her tone laced with just enough challenge to pique his interest.
Dinner was a dance of words and glances, every moment a step closer to her goal. Eva played her part flawlessly, charming the table with witty banter while letting her attention linger on Victor. She leaned in when he spoke, her fingers brushing his arm once, twice, each touch a spark in the dark. He responded in kind, his voice dropping to a private cadence when he addressed her, his eyes tracing the curve of her lips.
"You're full of surprises," he murmured at one point, his breath warm against her ear as he refilled her wine glass. "I'm starting to think you're dangerous."
Eva's lips curved, her voice a husky whisper. "Only to those who deserve it."
His laugh was low, dangerous, and it sent a jolt through her. She pushed the feeling down, focusing on her plan. But the way his thigh brushed hers under the table, the way his fingers grazed her wrist as he passed her a dish—it was intoxicating, and it scared her. This wasn't supposed to feel real.
The dinner dragged on, but Eva's attention snapped to the doorway when Liam and Sophia arrived, late and unapologetic. Liam's eyes widened when he saw her, his jaw tightening, but Sophia's smile was all venom, her arm possessively looped through Liam's. Eva's heart lurched, the sight of them a fresh wound, but she forced herself to stay composed. She tilted her head toward Victor, laughing softly at something he said, making sure Liam saw.
"Everything okay?" Victor asked, his voice low, his gaze flicking toward Liam and Sophia.
"Perfect," Eva said, her smile sharp. "Just… old friends."
Victor's eyes narrowed, but he didn't press. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice a velvet growl. "Good. I'd hate for anything to distract you tonight."
The promise In his words sent a shiver down her spine, and Eva knew she was in deeper than she'd planned. But there was no turning back now.
After Dinner
The guests moved to a lounge for drinks, but Eva excused herself, slipping into a quiet hallway lined with portraits of stern-faced Blackwoods. She needed a moment to breathe, to steady herself. The encounter with Liam and Sophia had rattled her more than she'd expected, their smugness a reminder of why she was here. She closed her eyes, the memory of their betrayal flooding back.
Flashback
It was the day after the video, and Eva had gone to Sophia's apartment, desperate for answers. She'd pounded on the door until Sophia opened it, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance.
"Why?" Eva had demanded, her voice breaking. "You were my best friend. How could you do this?"
Sophia's lips had curled into a cruel smile. "Because I could," she'd said, her voice cold. "Because Liam wanted me, and you were too pathetic to keep him. You really thought you were enough for him? Wake up, Eva. You're nothing."
The words had cut deeper than the video, slicing through years of friendship. Eva had stood there, trembling, as Sophia slammed the door in her face. The rejection had been a death blow, leaving Eva to stumble home in a haze of pain and rage.
The memory fueled her now, sharpening her resolve. She opened her eyes, her reflection in a nearby mirror fierce and unyielding. She wasn't nothing. She was a force, and she'd prove it.