Chapter 3: A Deal with the Devil

Amara could still hear the music echoing in her head, the soft hum of conversation blending with the clinking of champagne glasses. The gala had been a success—for everyone but her.

She was suffocating.

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her empty champagne glass as she stood near the grand entrance of the ballroom. The warm glow of chandeliers did nothing to ease the coldness that settled in her bones. Liam Hargrove was here. Alive. Breathing. And looking at her as though she were just another stranger.

He didn't remember.

How could he? This was his first time meeting her—again.

And yet, standing there in his presence, the weight of what he had done to her in the past life nearly crushed her.

Amara had told herself she was ready. That she could face him without crumbling.

She had been so wrong.

A Familiar Stranger

As the night stretched on, Amara did everything in her power to avoid Liam's gaze. She made polite conversation with other guests, flashing smiles she didn't mean, laughing at jokes she didn't find funny. Anything to keep herself grounded.

But Liam Hargrove was a presence that was impossible to ignore.

Even when she wasn't looking at him, she could feel him. The way he moved through the crowd, effortlessly charming, his deep voice cutting through the noise like a melody.

The same voice that had once whispered false promises in her ear.

She clenched her fist.

She wouldn't fall for it this time.

Then, as though fate was playing a cruel joke on her, a familiar voice spoke behind her.

"Leaving so soon?"

Amara froze.

No.

Slowly, she turned around, her pulse hammering.

Liam stood there, his dark eyes unreadable as he regarded her with mild interest. He looked exactly the same as she remembered—sharp jawline, broad shoulders, a perfectly tailored suit that fit him like a second skin.

The only difference? He didn't know who she was.

She forced a polite smile, suppressing the tremor in her voice. "It's been a long night."

Liam tilted his head, studying her like she was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out.

"Your name," he mused. "It sounds familiar."

Her breath caught.

Did he—? No. No, he couldn't remember.

Still, she had to be careful. She lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. "I doubt we've met before."

Liam's gaze lingered a second longer before the corner of his mouth lifted into an infuriating smirk.

"I'd remember a woman like you."

Amara's fingers twitched. The audacity.

She was seconds away from throwing her drink in his face, but she swallowed the urge. Instead, she raised a brow, feigning amusement. "Oh? And what kind of woman am I?"

Liam chuckled, stepping closer. Too close.

"Mysterious," he murmured. Then, with a knowing gleam in his eyes, he added, "And dangerous."

Amara's breath hitched. He had no idea how right he was.

"Goodnight, Mr. Hargrove." She turned on her heel, ready to put as much distance between them as possible.

But then—

"Wait."

She should have kept walking. Should have ignored him.

But she didn't.

Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder, masking the turmoil inside her.

Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black card.

"My company is looking for new talent," he said smoothly. "I'd like to commission a piece from you."

The air left her lungs.

A commission. From him.

Her fingers curled into a fist at her side.

A year ago, she would have taken this opportunity without hesitation. Liam Hargrove was one of the most powerful men in the art world—his influence alone could launch an artist's career overnight.

But this wasn't a year ago.

This was her second chance.

A chance to destroy him.

She met his gaze again, her fingers twitching at her sides.

"I'll think about it," she said evenly.

Liam smirked. "I hope you do."

And then he was gone, disappearing into the sea of wealthy elites, oblivious to the storm he had just unleashed inside her.

A Dangerous Opportunity

The moment Amara stepped into her apartment, she threw the black card onto the coffee table as though it had burned her fingers.

She shouldn't have taken it.

She should have ignored him, rejected the offer, walked away.

Instead, she had opened a door she wasn't sure she could close.

She sank onto her couch, rubbing her temples.

Liam had just handed her a golden ticket—a way to get inside his world.

Her mind raced.

She could use this.

She could get close to him, learn his weaknesses, find a way to bring him down before he ever had the chance to ruin her again.

But was she ready for this?

Could she really stand in front of him, pretend to be someone she wasn't, smile at him, laugh with him, when all she wanted to do was scream at him for what he had done?

Her gaze flickered to the black card on the table.

Maybe she didn't have to pretend.

Maybe she could take his offer—and make him regret ever meeting her.

Her lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.

Fine.

If Liam Hargrove wanted to work with her, she'd give him something he'd never forget.

Morning Regrets

The next morning, Amara woke up with a sense of unease curling in her stomach.

Was she really doing this?

Her mind told her to be logical, to remember the pain, the betrayal, the fear.

But her heart told her that this was her only chance.

To get revenge. To make him pay.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts.

Unknown Number: I hope you've considered my offer, Miss Evans.

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

It was him.

Liam.

She hadn't even given him her number.

Of course, he had found it. Billionaires didn't wait for things—they made things happen.

Her pulse quickened as she typed out her response.

Amara: I have. Let's discuss the details.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Liam: Excellent. My driver will pick you up at noon. Don't be late.

Arrogant bastard.

She exhaled sharply, tossing her phone onto the bed.

This was it.

The first step toward her revenge.

But something inside her whispered that she was stepping into something far more dangerous than she had ever imagined.

And this time, there was no going back.