As the day ended, Eva prepared for the gallery opening, slipping into a deep red gown, the bracelet gleaming. The gallery was a sleek space, its white walls adorned with abstract paintings, the crowd a mix of artists and elite. Victor was there, his black tuxedo impeccable, his presence commanding. He spotted her, his eyes softening, and crossed the room, offering a glass of champagne.
"You look stunning," he said, his voice low, his gaze tracing the curve of her neck. "Red suits you."
"You're not so bad yourself," she said, her smile teasing, her heart racing. They wandered the gallery, their shoulders brushing, their conversation light—art, music, the city's pulse. Victor paused by a painting of a stormy sea, its blues and grays swirling with intensity.
"This reminds me of you," he said, his voice soft. "Beautiful, untamed, full of secrets."
Eva's breath caught, guilt and love twisting together. "You're too good at reading me," she said, her voice low, her hand brushing his. "It's unnerving."
He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that warmed her. "Good," he said, his fingers intertwining with hers. "I like keeping you on your toes."
They stood there, the painting a backdrop to their quiet connection, but Eva's senses remained sharp. She spotted Sophia across the room, her blonde hair pulled back, her black dress clinging to her frame, her eyes glinting with manic intensity. Sophia's presence was a jolt, and Eva's grip on Victor's hand tightened.
"Trouble?" Victor asked, following her gaze, his voice low.
"Just… someone I'd rather avoid," Eva said, her tone steady, but her heart pounded. Sophia was here to make a move, and Eva needed to be ready.
Sophia's obsession had reached a fever pitch, her apartment a chaotic shrine to Eva—photos, hacked emails, camera feeds. She'd seen the footage of Eva accessing Victor's files, proof of her deception, but exposing her wasn't enough. She wanted Eva's soul, her humiliation, her surrender. Liam was a fading concern, her affair with Damian a tool to keep him loyal, but Victor was a new target—a way to hurt Eva where it mattered most.
She'd tracked Eva to the gallery, her plan bold and desperate: flirt with Victor, sow doubt, destabilize their bond. She approached him as Eva stepped away to take a call from Marcus, her smile calculated, her movements deliberate. "Victor," she purred, her voice sultry, her hand brushing his arm. "You're looking… commanding tonight."
Victor's eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening, but he didn't pull away, his expression unreadable. "Sophia," he said, his voice cool. "What do you want?"
She leaned closer, her perfume sharp, her lips curving into a seductive smile. "Just a moment of your time," she said, her fingers lingering on his sleeve. "You're a powerful man, Victor. I've always admired that. Maybe we could… get to know each other better."
Her words were a blade, aimed at Eva's heart, but Victor's gaze was cold, his loyalty unshaken. "I'm not interested," he said, his voice firm, stepping back. "You're with my son, Sophia. And even if you weren't, I'm taken."
Sophia's smile faltered, her eyes flashing with desperation. "Eva's not who you think," she said, her voice low, a hint of her obsession leaking through. "She's lying to you, Victor. She's using you."
Victor's jaw tightened, but his voice was steady. "If you have proof, bring it," he said, his tone a warning. "But I trust Eva. More than I trust you."
The rejection stung, fueling Sophia's rage, but she masked it with a smile. "You'll see," she said, turning away, her heels clicking like a countdown. She rejoined Liam, her arm around him, but her eyes were on Eva, her obsession burning brighter.
Eva returned, catching the tail end of Sophia's retreat, her heart sinking. "What was that?" she asked, her voice low, her hand on Victor's arm.
"Nothing worth your time," he said, his voice gentle, pulling her close. "She's desperate. It didn't work."
Relief flooded her, but Sophia's presence was a reminder of the danger. They left the gallery, Victor's hand on her back, the city's lights a blur. In his car, they sat in silence, the air thick with unspoken feelings. "You're with me," he said, his voice low, his hand finding hers. "That's all that matters."
Eva nodded, her heart aching with love and guilt. She was playing a dangerous game, and Sophia's failed flirtation was a warning—the war was far from over.
###
The next morning, Eva woke in her apartment, the memory of Victor's touch, his loyalty against Sophia's seduction, a bittersweet comfort. Her black gown from the gallery lay discarded, the bracelet gleaming on her wrist, a symbol of his trust. But the Blackwood secret, the leak she'd orchestrated, and Sophia's escalating obsession weighed heavy. She'd sent the tip about Liam's failed deal to a rival firm, and the news was breaking, a storm she'd unleashed that could engulf Victor.
At the tower, Eva threw herself into work, her efficiency a mask for her racing thoughts. The executive floor buzzed with tension—whispers of the leaked scandal spreading, Liam's name on every tongue. Eva's phone buzzed with a news alert: *"Blackwood Enterprises Faces Scrutiny Over Past Deal Failure."* The article didn't name Liam directly, but the implications were clear, and Eva's guilt surged. She'd wanted to hurt Liam, but Victor's pain was a cost she hadn't foreseen.
Marcus approached her desk, his charm a veneer over his calculating eyes. "Nice move with the leak," he said, his voice low, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Isabelle's distracted, and the files are buried. We're partners now, Eva."
Eva's jaw tightened, her mind weighing the risks. "We're not partners," she said, her tone sharp. "You did your part. Now stay out of my way."
Marcus laughed, unfazed. "You'll need me," he said, stepping back. "This game's only getting uglier."
As Marcus walked away, Isabelle appeared, her silver heels clicking, her smile a blade. "Ms. Carter," she said, her tone icy, "the audit's complete. Your records are… clean. For now. But I'm watching you."
Eva met her gaze, her smile cool. "Good to know," she said, her voice steady. "I'm always happy to cooperate."
Isabelle's eyes narrowed, sensing the deflection, but she turned away, her threat lingering. Eva's relief was short-lived—her phone buzzed with a text from Liam: *"You did this, didn't you? You're destroying my family."* The accusation stung, fueling her rage, but guilt gnawed at her. She didn't reply, her focus shifting to Victor.
She found him in his office, the glass walls framing a city now whispering his family's secrets. He stood by the window, his posture tense, a report crumpled in his hand. "Eva," he said, his voice low, his eyes searching as she entered. "You've seen the news."
She nodded, her heart pounding, guilt and love twisting together. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft, stepping closer. "I know this hurts."
He turned, his eyes softening, but pain lingered. "It's not your fault," he said, his voice rough. "Liam made his choices. I just… didn't expect it to come out like this."
The words cut her, her role In the leak a secret she couldn't confess. She took his hand, the bracelet glinting, and squeezed, her voice trembling. "You'll get through this," she said. "You always do."
He pulled her Into a gentle embrace, his arms a sanctuary, his breath warm against her hair. "With you, I might," he said, his voice low, a smile tugging at his lips. The intimacy was quiet, emotional, a connection that deepened with every shared moment. They stood there, the city's hum a distant echo, but Eva's guilt was a shadow, her love for him a truth she couldn't deny.