I pull it out. The screen displays a secure message from Grant.
Grant (6:10 PM):Perimeter check complete. The outside firm is running the standard RFID scanners at the main gates. Preston has also stationed four plainclothes contractors inside the ballroom. They are armed.
I stare at the text.
Armed contractors at a family engagement party. Preston is anticipating a physical altercation. He assumes that when he drops his final piece of leverage on the table tonight, I will react with violence. He wants me to lose control in front of the board of directors so he can justify stripping me of my position.
He still thinks this is about Vance Security.
I lock the phone and slide it back into my pocket.
A soft rustle of fabric sounds from the hallway.
I turn around.
The breath leaves my lungs in a slow, jagged exhale.
Audrey walks into the living room. The gold silk of the dress moves like water over her skin, catching the ambient light of the city and throwing it back. The deep V of the neckline exposes the sharp, delicate line of her collarbones. Her hair is pinned up, completely exposing the long column of her neck.
She stops a few feet away from me. She isn't wearing the defensive, armored expression she wore the night of the family dinner. She looks calm. She looks absolutely, terrifyingly lethal.
"Is it too much?" she asks, her voice quiet in the massive room.
"It is exactly enough," I reply, my voice rougher than I intended.
I cross the distance between us. I don't touch the silk. I reach up, my hands resting lightly on her bare shoulders. Her skin is warm. The faint scent of lilies and vanilla rises from her throat, cutting through the sterile air of the apartment.
"Preston is going to hate it," she murmurs, a small, dark smile touching the corner of her mouth.
"Preston is going to realize that he has entirely lost control of the narrative." I slide my thumbs along the line of her collarbone. "Are you ready for this?"
"I've been ready for two weeks." She looks up at me, the golden flecks in her eyes steady and clear. "Simon thinks this party is his victory lap. He thinks because we haven't retaliated in the press, we gave up."
"Let him think that." I drop my hands from her shoulders and offer her my arm. "The fall is much more devastating when you don't see the ground coming."
She slips her hand through the crook of my elbow. The vintage diamond catches the light, a permanent fixture on her left hand.
We walk to the private elevator. The ride down to the lobby is silent, the anticipation thick enough to choke on.
Grant is waiting by the open door of the SUV. He takes one look at Audrey in the gold dress, gives a microscopic, approving nod, and looks away.
We get into the back seat. The privacy partition goes up, and the car pulls away from the curb, merging into the heavy evening traffic heading toward the North Shore.
I lean back against the leather, resting my arm along the top of the seat behind Audrey’s shoulders. She doesn't hesitate. She shifts her weight, leaning her side against my chest, her hand resting flat against my thigh. The casual intimacy of the movement still sends a sharp jolt of possessiveness straight to my core.
Fourteen days ago, she was terrified of me. Tonight, she is using me as a shield, and I am entirely willing to take every bullet fired in her direction.
"Malcolm," she says quietly, looking out the tinted window.
"Yes."
"If Preston tries to corner you again... if he tries to use your position at the company to force you to back down..." She trails off, her fingers tightening slightly against the fabric of my trousers. "Don't let him use me to hurt you."
I look at the side of her face.
She doesn't know. She still thinks Preston’s ultimate threat is my career. She doesn't know that I already traded the security division for the files on her mother. She doesn't know that tomorrow morning, regardless of what happens tonight, the board will likely vote to remove me.
I reach over, my hand covering hers.
