“My assistant will arrange something. Lunch. An interview.” His thumb presses into my skin, just enough to hurt. “We’ll see if you’re useful.”
Useful.
The humiliation burns, but I bow my head like I’m grateful.
“Thank you, Mr. Voss.”
“Kai,” he corrects softly.
The correction feels like a leash snapping into place.
He releases me, turning back to his circle of power as if I’m already dismissed.
But I don’t miss the way his gaze tracks me as I walk away.
Like a scientist observing a specimen.
—
My apartment smells faintly of dust and lemon cleaner.
A far cry from the marble halls of my childhood home.
I kick off my heels and drop the mask.
The tremor leaves my hands instantly.
He recognized me.
Not only that—he expected me.
I cross to the small desk by the window and open my laptop, pulling up the encrypted file I’ve built over three years.
Voss Group subsidiaries. Shell companies. Board members with questionable ethics.
I thought I was hunting him.
But tonight felt like he was watching me step willingly into a trap.
No.
I won’t let paranoia derail me.
He didn’t expose me. That means he’s curious.
Curiosity is leverage.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown number.
I hesitate only a second before answering.
“Yes?”
“Miss Bennett.” The voice is male, smooth, faintly amused. “Miles Carter.”
Kai’s oldest friend. Now his competitor.
I sit up straighter.
“How did you get this number?”
“Los Angeles is very small when you know where to look.” A pause. “I saw your performance tonight.”
So he’d been watching too.
“What do you want?”
“To offer you something Mr. Voss won’t.”
My fingers curl.
“Which is?”
“Revenge.”
The word drops between us like a loaded gun.
Silence hums down the line.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say carefully.
He chuckles.
“You’re not subtle, Sylvia. You’ve been digging into Voss Group for two years. Quietly. Impressively.” His tone sharpens. “But you’re playing against a grandmaster.”
“And you’re not?”
“I’m his equal,” Miles replies smoothly. “And I have resources you don’t.”
I lean back in my chair.
“And what would this alliance cost me?”
“A percentage of the empire once it falls.”
There it is.
Greed.
Men like Miles don’t do charity.
“And if I say no?”
“Then you’ll walk into Kai’s world alone.” His voice lowers. “And I promise you, he’ll enjoy breaking you.”
My jaw tightens.
“I’ll consider it.”
“You don’t have long,” he says lightly. “He doesn’t invite enemies to lunch unless he’s already decided their fate.”
The line clicks dead.
I stare at the dark screen.
He doesn’t invite enemies unless he’s already decided their fate.
Good.
Because I’ve already decided his.
—
Two days later, I step into Voss Group’s headquarters.
Glass and steel tower into the Los Angeles sky like a monument to ego.
Kai is waiting in the executive conference room.
Alone.
He doesn’t rise when I enter.
He watches.
“You’re punctual,” he says.
“I don’t waste opportunities.”
His gaze drifts over me, unhurried.
“Good. I despise inefficiency.”
He slides a folder across the table.
“A position. Junior analyst in one of our smaller subsidiaries.”
A small role.
Low visibility.
Limited access.
He’s testing me.
“Thank you,” I say, injecting gratitude into my tone.
“Don’t thank me yet.” His fingers steeple. “I expect loyalty.”
Loyalty.
From the daughter of the man he destroyed.
“And if I disappoint you?”
His smile is razor-thin.
“You won’t.”
It’s not confidence.
It’s a promise.
I sign the paperwork.
As I do, I notice something.
A faint red light in the corner of the ceiling.
A camera.
Of course.
He doesn’t trust me.
Good.
He shouldn’t.
I slide the pen back toward him.
“I won’t let you down.”
He stands then, crossing the room in slow steps until he’s directly in front of me.
Too close again.
“You already have,” he says softly.
My heart skips.
He leans down slightly, his lips near my ear.
“By underestimating me.”
Cold spreads through my veins.
He straightens before I can react.
“Welcome to Voss Group, Sylvia.”
His voice carries something dark beneath it.
Something anticipatory.
As I walk out of the building, I feel it.
The invisible net tightening.
He knows.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
This isn’t infiltration.
It’s invitation.
And I’ve just stepped willingly into the cage of a mad tycoon who doesn’t need love—
Only control.
And for the first time since my parents died, I feel something dangerously close to fear.
Not because I might fail.
But because a part of me suspects he’s going to enjoy watching me try.