The restaurant was dimly lit, elegant, and cold—just like the man she had come to meet. Luisa sat alone at a corner table, legs crossed, perfectly composed in a tailored navy sheath dress that complimented her razor-sharp cheekbones and calculated poise. Her wine sat untouched.
The host returned, accompanied by a man cloaked in shadow and arrogance.
Nathan Voss.
Dressed in obsidian black, his presence cut through the air like a blade. He walked with the kind of authority that didn't need announcement—his mere existence demanded it.
He paused a step away from the table, one brow arched in silent assessment.
"Luisa," he said curtly.
"Nathan." She rose to her feet slowly, offering a practiced smile. "Thank you for coming."
"I didn't come for pleasantries. Why am I here?" His voice was low and smooth, but sharp as broken glass.
She gestured for him to sit. "Because you're tired of being hunted. And because I have something you want."
Nathan took the seat across from her, folding his hands in front of him. "Then let's stop wasting time. Why reach out to me—after everything?"
Luisa glanced around, then leaned in. "I want to make a deal."
He smirked. "That much was obvious. What I don't know is why. You're Damien's arm candy, aren't you? Or did he finally get bored and toss you aside?"
A flicker of irritation crossed her features, but she masked it with a sip of wine.
"You always were brutal." She set the glass down. "But I'm not here to dredge up the past. I'm here because Victor and Damien are planning something big—something that will make what they've already done look like a warm-up."
Nathan's eyes darkened, but his voice remained cool. "Go on."
"I have access to confidential files. Emails. Voice memos. I can give you everything you need to rip them apart from the inside."
He studied her with deadly stillness. "And why would you betray Damien? Didn't you crawl into his bed the second I turned my back?"
She flinched, then lifted her chin defiantly. "Because I've realized who he really is. He's a coward. And Victor's a monster. I've stayed silent long enough."
"Touching," Nathan drawled. "Now tell me what you really want. Because no one serves betrayal cold unless they expect something in return."
She hesitated—just long enough for Nathan to catch it. He leaned back, eyes narrowing.
"I want revenge," she said finally. "That's all."
He laughed, a quiet, humorless sound. "That's a lie. But it's a pretty one. I'll play along."
Luisa held his gaze. "Believe what you want. But I'm done watching them destroy everything and everyone. You want to bring them down—I can help you do it. You know I'm not bluffing."
"You've always been good at reading the room," Nathan muttered, drumming his fingers against the table. "But I don't trust you. Not even a little."
"You don't have to," she said simply. "Use me."
He tilted his head, considering. "You're a risk. But if you're serious, you could be a useful one."
Luisa's lips curved. "So? Alliance?"
Nathan hesitated—then extended his hand. "Temporary. Until they burn."
She reached across the table, shaking his hand firmly. "Until they burn."
As she withdrew, Nathan's phone vibrated. He glanced down—Samson.
He answered in a clipped tone. "What?"
Samson's voice came fast and tight. "Sir—Stephanie's been attacked. Two men grabbed her in the street. It was targeted. She's at st Clara's Hospital. Her mother intervened, she's stable, but it was close—"
The world around Nathan stilled. His hand clenched into a fist on the table. "Who did it?"
"We don't know yet, but it's tied to Damien. I'd bet everything."
Nathan rose to his feet, chair scraping violently against the polished floor. His eyes flared with something cold and primal.
"I'll be there in Twenty," he growled.
He didn't spare Luisa another glance as he stormed past the stunned diners and vanished into the night.
And Luisa, now alone again, sat back with a slow, satisfied smile.
"Let the game begin," she whispered to herself.