Livia Vale never believed in fate, but tonight it felt like fate was laughing at her.
The entire hall glowed with gold light and polished power—expensive suits, hungry eyes, and a battlefield disguised as a business gala. Every step she took echoed confidence, but inside, her pulse hammered. Winning the Verlane Contract would change everything. It would finally put her name beside the wolves who had ruled this city for too long.
And one particular wolf stood at the center of them all.
Valen Lark.
The room shifted when he moved—people stepped aside without him even noticing. Tall, sharp, impossibly calm. His presence was like a blade: silent, dangerous, and impossible to ignore. Livia's jaw tightened the moment their eyes met across the hall.
He smirked.
He expected her to lose.
Not tonight.
She brushed past him toward the balcony, needing space to breathe before the negotiation began. The cold air hit her skin like truth… and then she froze.
A voice—low, threatening—slipped through the darkness.
"You have two hours to get me what I asked for," Valen said quietly, but the venom behind his words carried. "If the files aren't in my hands by midnight, don't bother breathing tomorrow."
Livia's breath caught.
He wasn't alone. Another man stood trembling in front of him, nodding rapidly. "I—I will. I swear. Please, Valen—"
"Don't beg." Valen stepped forward, and his voice dropped to something almost lethal. "Just deliver."
The man ran off, disappearing into the hall.
Livia pressed herself against the shadows, heart racing. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't have heard that. Whatever Valen was involved in, it was violent, illegal—and absolutely dangerous.
Her heel scraped the floor.
Too loud.
Valen's head snapped toward her hiding spot.
For one heartbeat, she thought the darkness itself looked at her.
He stepped out of the shadows with terrifying calm, his eyes narrowing. "Enjoying the view, Livia?"
She forced her spine straight. "You don't own the balcony."
"No," he said, taking another step closer, voice soft as a knife sliding into flesh. "But you saw something you shouldn't have."
Her blood chilled.
"And now," Valen murmured, lifting her chin with one finger, "I need to decide if I should silence you, or keep you close enough that you won't dare speak."
She slapped his hand away. "You don't intimidate me."
His lips curved, slow and dangerous. "You should be terrified, sweetheart."
The door opened behind them—the negotiation was about to begin.
Valen leaned closer, his breath ghosting her ear.
"Be careful tonight, Livia. You're playing a game you don't understand."
But she met his gaze, unblinking.
"Oh, I understand," she whispered. "You're afraid I might beat you."
For the first time, his mask cracked.
And he smiled like the devil.