Chapter 4: Walking Into the Lion’s Den

Amara Kingsley stood before the mirror, adjusting the collar of her silk blouse. Her reflection showed nothing of the storm raging inside her.

Today, she would meet Liam Hargrove again—for the first time in this life.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: Your ride is waiting downstairs.

Her fingers clenched around the device. This was it.

She grabbed her purse, inhaling deeply. This wasn't about starting fresh. It was about revenge.

The Drive to Hargrove Industries

The sleek black car idled outside her apartment. A suited driver stepped out, opening the door for her.

"Miss Kingsley."

She nodded and slid inside, the scent of leather and a familiar cologne filling the space.

Her heart clenched. How could something as simple as a scent bring back so much?

She shook off the memories. This time, she was in control.

A Grand Entrance

Hargrove Industries was a glass fortress. Cold, imposing, untouchable.

Amara walked in with steady steps.

The receptionist greeted her with a polished smile.

"Miss Kingsley, Mr. Hargrove is expecting you. This way."

She followed, taking in the marble floors, the towering sculptures—Liam's world, built on power.

The elevator dinged, opening to a private office lounge.

And there he was.

Liam Hargrove.

Tall. Impeccably dressed. Dangerous.

His piercing gaze met hers.

"You came," he murmured.

Amara lifted her chin. "I said I would."

Liam's lips curved slightly. "Not many people refuse an invitation from me."

"I'm not most people."

Something flickered in his dark eyes—curiosity. Amusement. Interest.

A Dangerous Deal

A folder slid across the table toward her.

"I want an original piece," Liam said smoothly. "Something no one else has."

Amara flicked through the pages. It was a commission contract.

She kept her expression neutral, but her pulse quickened. He was testing her.

"And why me?"

Liam leaned forward, his gaze unreadable.

"Because your art has something others don't."

Amara's breath caught.

He had said that before. Ten years ago. Before he killed her.

She forced a smile. "Flattery won't change the price, Mr. Hargrove."

His smirk deepened. "Good. I like a woman who knows her worth."

Then she saw it—Clause 4B.

The artist must work closely with the client for the duration of the commission.

Liam wanted her close.

Her grip tightened on the pen.

If he wanted her near, she would use that against him.

She signed.

Liam's smirk widened.

"Welcome to the game, Miss Kingsley."

Little did he know—Amara had already made her first move.