CHAPTER 12: THE QUIET WAR
That night, Evelyn understood one thing more than ever:
Men were not most frightening when they exploded in anger, but when they fell silent, every line on their faces frozen, because they were choosing the best way to possess he
After the haunting signing under the lights of the hall, Evelyn was taken to the 87th floor of the Eclipse Tower, a luxurious and stuffy apartment that the two bosses still contemptuously called "her temporary residence".
The room was so large that every step she took on the cold marble floor echoed like in an abandoned hotl
There was no sign of a bodyguard. There were only three people, accompanied by an eerie silence.
The door slammed shut, and Viktor walked straight into the dark kitchen. He opened a bottle of brandy, pouring the amber liquid into a thick glass. Diego slowly removed his vest, which he had draped over a chair, each movement steady and purposeful.
He took off his watch, then his heavy metal rings, each one making a dry, steady click against the marble table, carrying with it a sense of foreboding.
Evelyn remained standing at the door, her body petrified. No one ordered her to enter. No one stopped her from leaving. But both their eyes were fixed on her, so intense that...
Evelyn had the feeling that if she really moved, one of them would burst into flames.
Diego was the first to break the silence. "You just told the whole hall you would," he repeated, his voice deeper than usual, a hushed whisper.
Evelyn leaned back against the wall, trying to maintain a terrifying calm: "Yes." Viktor poured more wine, raised the glass to his lips.
He didn't look at her, but his words cut through the air, cold and decisive: "Do you know the consequences of that word?" "Yes," she replied, her voice even.
"But I don't want to be controlled by you two like a mindless weapon control panel."
Her words were like a thin, sharp blade, cutting through the two men's protective shell of power. Diego walked slowly toward her.
There was no sound of shoes.
Only the heat of his body pressing against her, each step shortening the distance between them. "No one controls you," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper.
"But you have to understand… your choice, it determines the whole city."
Evelyn looked straight into his eyes, unafraid: "What about you two? Who decides you?"
Diego stopped right in front of her, close enough that Evelyn could hear his every ragged breath.
"You," he said, the words coming out like a sentence. "Only you."
Just that one sentence, but it made the atmosphere in the room heavy as if someone had just poured a lot of tense stories into it.
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Viktor put his glass down on the kitchen counter with a decisive clatter, then walked straight towards them.
His steps were not hurried, but each step was sure, decisive like an undeniable command.
He came to Evelyn's side, placing one hand on the wall behind her head, blocking half of her escape route.
"You want to decide for yourself?" His voice was low, very close, his breath hot against her temples. "Fine. But deciding for yourself doesn't mean being safe."
Evelyn lifted her chin a little, not pushing his hand away but not leaning against the cold wall either.
"Safety was never part of the deal," she said, her voice still unwavering.
That answer made Viktor pause for a second.
A very brief second, but enough for Diego to glance at him with a knowing look, as if they had just exchanged something without words.
Then, at the same time, both bosses turned their attention to Evelyn.
Not with a lustful rush. Nor with a wild, uncontrolled frenzy. It was a simultaneous, intense attention that made her heart pound instinctively.
Not from fear.
Nor from desire. It was the feeling of being caught between two powerful forces, both of whom were genuinely interested in every word she was about to say.
Diego raised his hand, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. His fingers were warm, strong, but not in the least bit coercive.
"So try saying that again," he whispered, his breath fanning against her ear. "What do you choose?"
She didn't pull away, nor did she shift her gaze.
Her head tilted slightly to avoid his hand… but her gaze remained fixed on Viktor.
"I choose… respect."
Viktor chuckled, a low, metallic laugh.
"Respect?" He moved closer, his breath hot against her ear. "What kind of respect? The kind that lets you stand on the table? Or the kind that lets you lie under us?"
That sentence sent a slight tingle down her spine, not a caressing feeling, but a dangerous one.
She looked straight at Viktor, not avoiding:
"Respect is when you don't treat me like an inanimate object used to sign peace."
Diego stepped closer to her left, while Viktor moved closer to her right. Evelyn was sandwiched between two hot bodies, each pressing on her in a different way.
Diego spoke slowly, each word seemed to be small:
"You are standing in a room with two people who can destroy this city with just one word from you."
Viktor continued from the other side, his voice deeper, stronger: "You are still standing straight. Still looking straight and speaking straight."
Evelyn took a deep breath. Not to gain courage, but to keep her voice from deviating even a little.
"Then listen carefully," she said, each word as sharp as a razor.
She placed her hand on Viktor's chest, pushing gently. Not hard, just enough to assert a limit that could not be crossed.
"If you want me in the deal, you have to talk to me like a person. Not a trophy."
Diego took her wrist gently, not forcing it, as if he just wanted to retain that feeling.
"You think we don't know you're human?"
Evelyn looked him straight in the eye, her voice deeper than ever:
"No. I think sometimes you two forget that."
A second… two seconds… then three seconds passed. The room was silent, waiting for an explosion.
Then Viktor raised his hand… and for the first time that night, he moved back half a step.
Not a concession, but an admission.
Diego let go of her wrist, slowly, as if an invisible string had been loosened.
The atmosphere in the room had suddenly changed. There was no longer the chaos of desire to possess, nor the coldness of absolute power.
Both bosses were looking at her…
as a vital element they were forced to calculate into their strategy, not just an object to manipulate.
Evelyn let out a breath, the first in days. Not because she felt relieved, knowing that the night had only just begun.
But she felt like she had pushed down the first wall.
And that, in Blackhaven, was worth more than any peace treaty.
That night, they did not touch her. That… was scarier than when they did. Because desire that was held back was always the most dangerous kind.