Sophia whirled, her silk robe slipping to reveal a black lace camisole, her movements erratic. "No," she hissed, her voice trembling with intensity. "It's not enough. I want her to suffer, Damian. I want her to beg."
Damian's unease grew, his fingers tightening on his coffee mug. "You're going too far, Soph," he said, his tone firm. "This isn't just about Liam anymore. You're losing it."
Her eyes flashed, and she crossed the room, straddling his lap, her hands sliding into his hair, her lips brushing his ear. "You don't get to judge me," she whispered, her voice a sultry venom. "You want your cut, don't you? The money, the power? Then do what I say."
Damian's breath hitched, his hands gripping her hips, his resolve crumbling under her intensity. "You're playing with fire," he said, his voice rough, but he didn't push her away.
"Good," she purred, kissing him, a fierce, possessive kiss that silenced his doubts. Her hands roamed his chest, unbuttoning his shirt, her nails scraping his skin. "Burn with me," she said, her lips trailing to his jaw, her body pressing against him, sealing their pact.
But her mind was on Eva, her obsession a fire that consumed her. Even as she moved with Damian, her thoughts were of Eva's downfall, her humiliation. She'd hacked Eva's phone, planted cameras, considered hiring a thug—nothing was too far. Damian, caught in her web, was a tool, his loyalty bought by her promises and her body, but Sophia's true target was Eva, and she'd stop at nothing to see her fall.
---
Back at the tower, Eva spent the day navigating Victor's schedule, her efficiency a mask for her racing thoughts. She'd found the Blackwood secret in a locked drawer in Victor's office—a file detailing Liam's role in a failed deal that cost millions, buried by Victor to protect the family. It was a weapon to destroy Liam's standing, but using it could fracture Victor's trust, and Eva's feelings for him were a growing complication.
Isabelle Voss approached her desk, her silver heels clicking, her smile a blade. "Ms. Carter," she said, her tone laced with condescension, "I'm reviewing the assistant hiring process. Some… discrepancies have come up. Care to explain?"
Eva's heart raced, but she met Isabelle's gaze, her smile cool. "I'm sure it's a clerical error," she said, her voice steady. "I'd be happy to clarify anything you need."
Isabelle's eyes narrowed, sensing the deflection. "I'll be thorough," she said, turning away. "Secrets don't stay buried long."
The threat landed, and Eva's stomach twisted. She needed to act before Isabelle uncovered her lies. As the day ended, she prepared for her meeting with Victor, slipping into a simple black dress, the bracelet gleaming on her wrist. The rooftop garden was a hidden oasis atop the tower, its lush greenery and twinkling lights a contrast to the city's chaos. Victor was waiting, his suit jacket off, his shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing corded forearms. He stood by a small fountain, the water's soft trickle a backdrop to his quiet intensity.
"You came," he said, his voice warm, his eyes softening as he took her in. "You look… perfect."
Eva smiled, her tension easing. "You're not so bad yourself," she said, joining him by the fountain, the air cool against her skin.
They sat on a stone bench, the city's lights a distant glow, and talked—about dreams, regrets, the weight of their worlds. Victor shared a memory of his childhood, a rare glimpse of vulnerability, and Eva felt her guard slip. "I used to think I could outrun my past," she said, her voice soft, her eyes on the fountain. "But it's always there, isn't it?"
He nodded, his hand finding hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. "It is," he said, his voice low. "But you don't have to face it alone, Eva. Not anymore."
The words hit her like a wave, her love for him a dangerous truth. She wanted to confess—about Liam, Sophia, the secret she held—but fear held her back. Instead, she leaned against him, her shoulder brushing his, a quiet intimacy that felt like home. "You make it sound so simple," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
"It's not," he said, his thumb brushing her knuckles. "But it's worth it."
They sat in silence, the garden a cocoon around them, their connection a fragile bridge over her secrets. But the moment was shattered when her phone buzzed, a message from Marcus: *"Isabelle's auditing the hiring files. Meet me tonight, or you're exposed."*
Eva's heart sank, the weight of her choices crushing her. She slipped her phone away, forcing a smile as Victor looked at her, concern in his eyes. "Everything okay?" he asked.
"Just work," she lied, her voice steady. "Nothing I can't handle."
He nodded, but his gaze lingered, sensing her unease. As they left the garden, his hand on her back, Eva knew she was running out of time. Sophia's cameras, Isabelle's audit, Marcus's ultimatum—her world was closing in, and Victor's trust was a lifeline she wasn't sure she deserved.
---
That night, Eva met Marcus at a dimly lit bar, its jazz music a soft hum. He was waiting in a corner booth, his bourbon untouched, his smile disarming but his eyes sharp. "You're cutting it close," he said, leaning forward. "Isabelle's got the hiring files. She's close to the truth about you."
Eva's jaw tightened, her mind racing. "What do you want, Marcus? No games."
"A partnership," he said, his voice low. "I can bury the files, throw Isabelle off. In return, you help me climb. We could run this place, Eva."
The offer was a lifeline, but his lingering gaze, the way his fingers brushed hers, set off alarms. "I don't trust you," she said, pulling her hand back. "Give me something concrete, or I walk."
He leaned back, his smile fading. "Fair enough," he said. "I've got a contact in HR who can alter the records. But I need your word you're in."
Eva hesitated, her heart torn between survival and loyalty to Victor. "I'll think about it," she said, standing. "Don't push me, Marcus."
As she left, the city's lights blurred, her mind a storm. She'd uncovered Liam's secret, but using it could hurt Victor. Sophia was watching, Isabelle was closing in, and Marcus was a wildcard. Worst of all, her love for Victor was a truth she couldn't deny, a weight that threatened to crush her revenge.
Back at her apartment, Eva locked the door, her bracelet glinting in the dim light. She checked every corner, paranoid after the camera, and found nothing—but the unease lingered. Sophia was out there, her obsession a ticking bomb, and Eva was running out of moves.