Scarlett "Red" Valenti's POV
The boardroom's empty now, the echoes of blueprints and egos fading into the hum of Manhattan's skyline beyond the glass walls. My team's gone, Ethan's charming grin a memory, and Julian damn him left with that infuriating smirk, his parting words still burning in my ears:
"Try not to miss me too much."
I'm alone with my thoughts, and they're a mess, tangled up in his gray eyes, the way his voice slid over my skin like a promise I shouldn't want. I grip the edge of the table, my red nails digging into the polished wood, grounding myself. I'm Scarlett Valenti. I don't unravel for anyone, especially not Julian Knight.
But he's under my skin, and I hate it. The way he looked at me during the meeting, his gaze lingering on my curves like he was mapping every inch my breasts, my hips, the way my suit hugged my ass.
It wasn't just arrogance; it was hunger, raw and unapologetic, and it lit something in me I've spent years keeping locked down. I shake my head, shoving the thought away, and grab my tablet, pulling up the waterfront project files. Focus, Scarlett. This deal is your legacy, not a playground for your hormones.
My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen an email from Lila, flagged urgent. Found something on Singapore. Call me. My stomach twists, the anonymous texts flashing in my mind: Knight's not who you think he is. I hit her number, pacing the boardroom, the city's lights winking at me like they know my secrets.
"Red, you're not gonna like this," Lila says the second she picks up, her voice low, tense. "Singapore's a rabbit hole. I got a source who says KnightTech funneled money through offshore accounts to cover a failed investor deal. Nothing concrete yet, but there's a paper trail. Julian's name's on it."
I freeze, my heart pounding. "Julian's name? You're sure?"
"Not a hundred percent," she admits. "But the source is solid. If it's true, he's hiding something big. And if it leaks, it'll tank the waterfront deal—and your reputation with it."
I curse under my breath, my mind racing. Julian, with his smug confidence and those damn eyes, a fraud? It doesn't add up, but the doubt gnaws at me. "Keep digging," I say, my voice sharp. "I need proof, Lila. No rumors, no chatter—hard evidence."
"On it," she says. "But, Red, watch your back. If Julian's dirty, this partnership's a minefield."
I hang up, my fingers trembling as I set the phone down. The boardroom feels too small, the air too thick. I sink into a chair, staring at the blueprints spread across the table my vision of towering condos, green spaces, a skyline that screams Scarlett Valenti. But now it's tainted, shadowed by Julian's secrets and the heat he's stirring in me. I close my eyes, and his face is there those chiseled features, that velvet voice whispering, "I'll show you what I can do." My body betrays me, a warm ache pooling low, and I hate how much I want to find out.
A knock at the door jolts me upright. "Come in," I call, expecting a janitor or a stray assistant. Instead, Ethan Blackwood steps inside, his blonde hair tousled, his brown eyes warm but cautious. He's in a navy blazer, sleeves rolled up, looking like he just walked off a yacht, not out of a corporate warzone.
"Red," he says, his voice soft, almost too gentle. "You okay? You looked like you were about to set Julian on fire in there."
I force a laugh, leaning back in my chair, crossing my arms to hide the way my hands shake. "Just another day dealing with your best friend's ego. What do you want, Ethan?"
He steps closer, leaning against the table, his gaze searching mine. "Just checking on you. That was intense. Julian's intense. I know he can be… a lot."
I raise a brow, my lips curving into a smirk. "A lot? That's generous. He's a walking power trip with a side of arrogance."
Ethan chuckles, but there's something in his eyes concern, maybe, or something deeper. "He's not all bad, you know. Underneath the bullshit, he's… complicated. But you? You're holding your own. More than that. You're running circles around him."
I tilt my head, studying him. Ethan's always been the softer one, the charmer who disarms with a smile, but there's an edge to him now, a sincerity that catches me off guard. "Flattery won't get you anywhere, Blackwood," I say, but my voice is softer than I mean it to be.
He grins, leaning closer, his voice dropping. "Maybe I'm not trying to get anywhere. Maybe I just like seeing you in action, Red. You're something else."
My pulse spikes, and I hate how his warmth pulls at me, a contrast to Julian's fire. I stand, putting distance between us, my heels clicking on the floor. "Save the charm for someone who's buying, Ethan. I've got work to do."
He straightens, his smile fading but not gone. "Fair enough. Just… be careful, okay? Julian's not the only one playing a high-stakes game."
He leaves, and I'm alone again, the boardroom's silence pressing in. Ethan's words linger, but it's Julian's face I see, his voice I hear, his touch I can still feel from that waterfront moment. And now, this Singapore mess. If he's hiding something, it could ruin me. But the worst part? Even knowing that, I can't stop the way my body hums at the thought of him, the way my heart races at the idea of pushing him to the edge and seeing who breaks first.
I grab my coat, slinging it over my shoulder as I head for the elevator. The city waits below, a glittering trap, and I'm walking right into it. Tomorrow, I'll face Julian again, and I'll be ready—sharp, untouchable, in control. But as the elevator doors close, I catch my reflection, and for the first time, I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince. Julian Knight's a danger I can't ignore, and I'm starting to wonder if I even want to.