bChapter /bb275 /b

Night lounged across his antique sofa, twirling a small knife between his fingers with the casual precision. A bowl of freshly cut fruit sat on the coffee table between us.

“Want some?” He speared an orange slice with the tip of his knife and extended it toward me.

I shifted away slightly. “Griffin’s position in Arctic Fox–how strong is it really?”

Night retracted the knife, popping the orange slice into his own mouth instead. His gray eyes gleamed with amusement. “Elder statesman level. Plus, the guy’s a ssic fence–sitter. He’s cultivated quite thework of allies within Arctic Fox.”

bI /bleaned back in my armchair, processing the information. “So he has enough pull to make this deal stick?”

“Arctic Fox was already wary of crossing me,” Night said, wiping juice from his fingers with a handkerchief. b“/bAfter this little stuntb, /bthey’re probably terrified I might snap and do something… unpredictable.” His smile turned predatory. “They’d much rather Griffin dip into his own pockets to buy 791 from me than risk finding out what happens when I get truly angry. Griffinn’s going to get fleeced by Arctic Foxb, /band afterward, he’ll be nothing but a figurehead there.”

I couldn’t help but smile. The n had worked perfectly–better than we’d anticipated.

“That’s my girl,” Night said, his eyes warming. “You solved my problem without me having to lift a finger. I was ready to burn bridges with Arctic Fox entirely.” He studied me for a moment. “That Benjamin kid didn’t get handsy with you, did he?”

I scoffed. “H wouldn’t dare.”

Nightughed, a genuine sound that filled the room. “Touché.”

Two daysterb, /bGriffin arrived at Night’s estate with the signed papers, looking like he’d aged a decade since I’dst seen him.

“It’s done,” Griffin said, his voice tight with suppressed rage. “791 Group is yours, free and clear of Arctic Fox oversight. I’ve personally covered the contractual penalties.”

Night barely nced at the papers before passing them to hiswyer. “My legal team will review these, of course. I assume you’ve handled all the technical ess transfers as well?”

Griffin nodded stiffly. “Everything is as you demanded.”

“Excellent.” Night’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve always appreciated your… flexibility, Griffin. It’s probably your most admirable quality.”

Griffin’s jaw clenched. “Where’s my son?”

Night gesturedzily toward the door. “Benjamin’s in the guest house. Bit of a spoiled brat, isn’t heb? /bCried like a baby when we took away his phone. You might want to invest in some parenting sses.”

Griffin’s face flushed deep red, but he said nothing as a guard led him to retrieve his son. Through the window, I watched Griffin p Benjamin hard across the face before shoving him into their waiting car.

b15:53 /bbSun/bb, /bbSep /bb28 /bfn205b This update is avable on ?ovelFind/fn205b

b65 /b

Several dayster, Night appeared in the doorway of my guest room, holding a garment bag.

“We’re going out tonight,” he announced, hanging the bag on the closet door. “I’ve been invited to the Russian Deputy Prime Minister’s anniversary celebration, and you’re my plus one.”

I raised an eyebrow, “I don’t recall agreeing to that.”

“You’ll enjoy it. The food is excellent, and the security so tight that no one would dare cause trouble.” His eyes twinkled. “Plus, I want to show you off. The stylist will be here at three.”

I sighed, knowing resistance was futile. “Fine.”

That evening, I heard voices from downstairs as I finished getting ready. The stylist had spent hours on my hair and makeup, transforming me into someone I barely recognized in the mirror–all smoky eyes and glossy lips, my hair arranged in an borate updo with loose tendrils framing my face.

“You couldn’t evene outside to greet me?” a familiar voiceined from the foyer. “What kind of host are youb?/b”

Chris Jensen had arrived, apparently.

Night’s response was dry. “Why are you here, Chrisb?/bb” /b

“What, I need an invitation now?” Chris retorted.

“I’m busy tonight,” Night replied. “Going to a party.”

“Where?”

“A g.”

I smiled as I listened to their banter while slipping into the gold dress Night had chosen–a strapless column of shimmering fabric that clung to every curve.

“Where’s my suit?” Chris demanded.

Night must have signaled to a staff member because I heard him say, “Take him to my closet and let him pick something.”

“I want something that fits properly. No tails.”

“Jade left about fifteen dresses behind. There’s one with a thigh slit that would look stunning on you,” Night teased.

I chose that moment to make my entrancei, /idescending the staircase slowly in the gold dress and those impossible heels. The conversation below stopped abruptly. Night’s face broke into a delighted smile, while Chris’s jaw actually dropped a little.

Night extended his hand as I reached the bottom step. “Magnificent,” he murmured, bringing my fingers to his lips.

b15:53 /bbSun/bb, /bbSep /bb28 /b

Three hourster, our cat pulled up to an opulent mansion illuminated by hundreds of twinkling lights. The g was already in full swing, with Moscow’s elite mingling in the grand ballroom. A tall man in a brown suitmanded attention near the center of the room, his arm draped possessively around a woman draped in diamonds. Despite his bored expression, there was an unmistakable arrogance in

his posture.

Night, Chris, and I entered fashionablyte, causing a noticeable hush to fall over the crowd. Night looked impable in his ck tailcoat, his vic features and golden curls marking him instantly as someone important. Everyone knew him. His parents and even grandparents were political powerhouses in Russia.

Chris walked beside him in a ck suit with subtle dark patterning, his half–frame sses adding to his dangerous intellectual aura. He moved with the confidence of a man who had never lost a legal battle, his calcting eyes taking in every detail of the room.

And then there was me, in that liquid gold dress that caught the light with every step. I felt the weight of every gaze, heard the whispers that followed our entrance.

“I should say hello to our host,” Night murmured. “Chris, keep Jadepany. And behave yourself.”

Night disappeared into the crowd while Chris guided me to a secluded seating area with a good view of the room.

1

“So,” he said, settling beside me, “I’m hiding out from Eleanor Astor. That’s why I’m in Russia.”

Night returned before I could respond, dropping onto the sofa opposite us with a satisfied expression.

His eyes focused on Chris. “Baby told me you got your ass kicked. Quite thoroughly, from what I hear. How did they do it? Tell me so I can enjoy it vicariously.”

“Whip marks,” I supplied when Chris refused to borate.

Night’s eyes lit up with mischievous delight. “You kinky bastard. And here I thought I was the adventurous one.”

“Fuck off,” Chris snapped. “Want to face awsuit?”

Nightughed, raising his champagne ss in a mock toast. “To Chris Jensen–who brings new meaning to the phrase ‘getting beaten in court.“”

Chapter Comments

3

Write Comments

? SH