Scarlett "Red" Valenti's POV
The boardroom smells like money and tension, all polished mahogany and glass walls overlooking Manhattan's skyline. I sit at the head of the table, my red stilettos crossed, my tablet open to a spreadsheet that could make or break my empire.
The waterfront deal is a beast—three billion dollars, a hundred acres of prime real estate, and a city council breathing down our necks. I'm ready to dominate this meeting, but the empty chair across from me mocks my confidence. Julian Knight is late. Of course he is. Arrogant bastard probably thinks it's a power move.
Lila slides into the seat beside me, her dark curls pulled back, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk. "You look like you're about to murder someone," she whispers, smirking. "Save it for Knight."
"He's not worth the jail time," I mutter, tapping my nails against the table.
My black dress hugs my curves, chosen deliberately to project power and just a hint of danger. I need every edge today. The city's liaison, a mousy woman named Clara, fidgets at the other end of the table, her clipboard trembling. She's out of her depth, and she knows it.
The door swings open, and there he is—Julian Knight, striding in like he owns the damn building. His charcoal suit is impeccable, his dark hair slightly mussed, like he just rolled out of a boardroom brawl and won. Those stormy gray eyes lock onto mine, and for a split second, the air crackles. I hate how my pulse spikes, how my body betrays me with a rush of heat.
He's the enemy, Scarlett. Get it together.
"Valenti," he says, his voice smooth as whiskey, taking the seat across from me.
"You're looking… prepared."
"Knight," I shoot back, my tone sharp enough to cut. "Nice of you to show up. Did your ego get stuck in traffic?"
His lips twitch, that infuriating almost-smile. "Had to make an entrance. You know how it is."
Clara clears her throat, her voice shaky. "Ms. Valenti, Mr. Knight, thank you for coming. The city's decision to mandate a joint venture is final. You'll need to collaborate on the waterfront project—design, financing, execution, all of it. We expect a unified proposal by next month."
I lean forward, my eyes never leaving Julian's. "Let's be clear, Clara. Valenti Properties doesn't need a babysitter. I've got the best architects, the deepest investor pool, and a track record that speaks for itself. KnightTech's just along for the ride."
Julian's jaw tightens, but his voice stays calm, laced with that arrogant drawl. "Funny, Scarlett, because last I checked, KnightTech's AI-driven urban planning tech is the only reason the city's even considering this deal. You're good at flipping properties, but this is next-level. You need me."
I laugh, low and sharp. "Need you? I'd sooner need a root canal. Your tech's a gimmick, Knight. Stick to your algorithms and leave the real work to me."
Lila coughs, hiding a grin, but Clara looks like she's about to faint. Before she can stammer a response, the door opens again, and Ethan Blackwood saunters in, all easy charm and golden-boy energy. His navy blazer is casual, his brown eyes warm as they land on me. "Sorry I'm late," he says, flashing a smile that could disarm a bomb. "Had to rescue a kitten from a tree on the way."
I roll my eyes, but my lips quirk despite myself. "Ethan, you're not fooling anyone. You were probably charming the barista at Starbucks."
"Guilty," he says, dropping into the chair beside Julian, who shoots him a look I can't quite read. Ethan leans back, his gaze flickering between us. "So, are we playing nice yet, or should I get the referee whistle?"
"Play nice?" I say, arching a brow. "I'd rather eat glass than cozy up to your boss here."
Julian's eyes darken, but there's a spark in them, like he's enjoying this. "Careful, Scarlett. Keep throwing punches, and I might start swinging back."
"Oh, please," I say, leaning forward, my voice dripping with challenge. "You couldn't handle me if you tried."
The room goes quiet, the air thick with something I refuse to name. Ethan clears his throat, breaking the spell. "Okay, kids, let's focus. Clara, walk us through the terms."
Clara scrambles through her notes, outlining the city's expectations: shared costs, joint branding, and a unified vision for a mixed-use development—luxury condos, tech hubs, green spaces. It's ambitious, even for me, but I can already see the skyline in my mind, my name etched into it.
The problem is Julian, sitting there like he's already won, his fingers steepled, his gaze never leaving me.
"Scarlett," he says when Clara pauses, his tone deceptively soft, "your last project overshot its budget by ten percent. Impressive, but sloppy. KnightTech runs lean. If we're doing this, we do it my way—efficient, controlled, flawless."
I bristle, my nails digging into my palms. "Sloppy? My last project had a twenty percent higher ROI than your overhyped Singapore deal. Don't lecture me on control, Knight. You're the one who tanked a merger last year because you couldn't keep your ego in check."
His eyes narrow, but there's that flicker again—something that looks dangerously like admiration. "You've done your homework. Cute. But homework doesn't win deals. Execution does."
"Enough!" Clara squeaks, her clipboard clattering. "You two need to figure this out. The city won't tolerate delays. You're partners now, like it or not."
Partners. The word tastes like ash. I glance at Lila, who's watching me with a don't do anything stupid look. I force a smile, all teeth. "Fine. I'll play ball. But don't expect me to hold your hand, Knight."
He leans forward, his voice dropping low, meant for me alone. "I don't need my hand held, Scarlett. But I'll enjoy watching you try to keep up."
My breath catches, and I hate it. Hate how his voice slides over me like silk, how his closeness makes my skin prickle. I'm about to fire back when Ethan jumps in, his tone light but firm. "Alright, let's table the foreplay for now. Red, Julian, you're both sharks. How about we focus on not eating each other?"
I snort, leaning back, grateful for Ethan's intervention. "No promises, Blackwood."
The meeting drags on, Clara droning about timelines and permits. I'm half-listening, my mind spinning. Julian's presence is a distraction, his gaze a weight I can't shake.
When he speaks, his ideas are sharp, calculated, and—damn it—good. A smart-grid system for the development, AI-optimized traffic flow. It's the kind of innovation that could elevate my vision, but I'll be damned if I admit it.
As we wrap up, Ethan lingers, catching my arm as Julian heads for the door. "You okay, Red?" he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching mine. "That was intense."
I pull my arm free, flashing a grin. "I'm always okay, Ethan. Just don't expect me to play nice with your boy."
He chuckles, but there's something in his expression—concern, maybe, or something deeper. "Give him a chance. He's not as bad as he seems."
I raise a brow, skeptical. "Sure. And I'm secretly a nun."
Ethan laughs, but as I walk away, I feel Julian's eyes on me, a silent challenge that lingers long after I leave the room. This partnership is a minefield, and I'm already stepping on triggers. But I'm Scarlett Valenti
. I don't lose. And I sure as hell don't fall for men like Julian Knight.