Scarlett "Red" Valenti's POV
The elevator hums as it descends, the glass walls reflecting my crimson dress, my curves still burning from the heat of Julian's gaze. I lean against the cool metal, my heart hammering, a triumphant smirk tugging at my lips. I had him in that conference room—Julian Knight, the untouchable billionaire, reduced to a man fighting his own desire.
The way his eyes devoured me, tracing every inch of my body,my breasts, my hips, the deliberate sway of my ass felt like power, pure and intoxicating. I played him like a fiddle, and he didn't even see it coming.
But the thrill in my veins has a dangerous edge, because somewhere in that game, I felt it too -that pull, that ache, the way his closeness made my skin sing. I shake my head, shoving the thought down. Focus, Scarlett. He's the enemy, not your fantasy.
Back at my penthouse, I kick off my heels, the marble floor cold against my bare feet. The city glitters beyond my windows, a reminder of what's at stake—the waterfront deal, my legacy, everything I've bled for.
I pour a glass of Pinot Noir, the ruby liquid catching the light as I swirl it, trying to drown out Julian's voice in my head: "You're pushing me." God, the way he said it, like he was one breath away from losing control. I wanted to push harder, see how far I could take him, but that's a line I can't cross. Not yet.
My phone buzzes, and I snatch it up, expecting Lila's update on Singapore. Instead, it's another text from an unknown number: You're playing with fire, Red. Knight's secrets will burn you. My stomach lurches, the wine turning sour on my tongue.
Another cryptic warning, another jab at Julian's past. I forward it to Lila with a quick note: Find out who's sending these. Now. Whoever's behind this knows too much, and I'm not about to let them derail me—or the deal.
I sink onto the leather couch, my dress riding up my thighs, and pull up my laptop, diving into the waterfront project files. Julian's tech specs should be in my inbox by morning, assuming he can pull himself together after I left him reeling. I smile at the thought, but it fades as I open a new tab, searching for anything on KnightTech's Singapore deal.
The public story's thin—investors bailed, stocks dipped, Julian took the hit. But Lila's intel about offshore accounts nags at me. If he's hiding something, it could sink us both.
A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. It's late past eleven and Lila's not the drop-by type. I pad to the door, my pulse ticking up, and peek through the peephole. Ethan Blackwood, of all people, stands there, his blonde hair mussed, his navy jacket slung over one shoulder. What the hell? I open the door, leaning against the frame, my dress still a weapon even in my own space. "Ethan," I say, arching a brow. "You lost, or is this a midnight rescue mission?"
He grins, but it's softer than usual, his brown eyes searching mine. "Just checking on you, Red. You left Julian's office like you were ready to set the world on fire. Thought I'd make sure you didn't."
I laugh, stepping aside to let him in, my bare feet silent on the marble. "I'm fine, Blackwood. Just keeping your boy in check. You should've seen his face when I walked out."
Ethan chuckles, dropping his jacket on a chair, his gaze flickering over me,my dress, my curves, the way the fabric clings to every line. "Oh, I can imagine," he says, his voice low, almost too warm. "You're trouble, Red. The kind that makes men forget their own names."
I tilt my head, smirking, letting my hips sway as I walk to the couch, knowing he's watching. "Good. Maybe Julian needs a little forgetting." I sit, crossing my legs, the hem of my dress sliding higher, and I catch the way Ethan's eyes follow, a flicker of something more than charm in them.
I'm still riding the high of rattling Julian, and now Ethan's here, another piece in this dangerous game. I lean forward, letting my hair fall over one shoulder, my voice teasing. "What about you, Ethan? You forgetting anything tonight?"
He pauses, his smile faltering, and for a moment, I see it—desire, raw and unguarded, before he masks it with that easy grin. "You're dangerous, Scarlett," he says, stepping closer, his voice soft but heavy. "But I'm not here to play your game. Just… be careful with Julian. He's not what you think."
I narrow my eyes, the warning hitting too close to the anonymous texts. "And what's that supposed to mean?" I ask, my tone sharp now, all seduction gone. "If you know something about Singapore, Ethan, spill it."
He hesitates, running a hand through his hair, and I see the conflict in him—loyalty to Julian, something else for me. "It's not my story to tell," he says finally, his voice quiet. "Just don't trust him blindly, Red. That's all I'm saying."
He grabs his jacket, heading for the door, but his words linger, heavy as the city's shadows. I'm alone again, the wine glass cold in my hand, Julian's face flashing in my mind,his hunger, his secrets, the way I left him grasping for control.
I set the glass down, my body still buzzing from the power I wielded tonight, my dress a weapon that brought him to his knees. But Ethan's warning, those texts, the Singapore mystery they're cracks in my plan, and I can't ignore them.
Tomorrow, I'll face Julian again, and I'll keep pushing, keep teasing, keep him off-balance. Because Scarlett Valenti doesn't just play the game she owns it. But as I slip out of my dress, the mirror reflecting my curves, I wonder if I'm the one getting too close to the fire.