Charisse's phone suddenly rang. She glanced at the caller ID, paused for a beat, then stepped out of the hall to pick it up.

"Owen."

"Charisse, where are you right now?"

"Midnight Bloom."

"With who?"

Standing by the window, Charisse looked out at the pitch-black sky. "Owen, can you not pretend you don't know?"

Someone at the party who knew both of them must've tipped Owen off. That's the only reason he would've called.

"So it's really Clayton?" Owen's voice cracked with disbelief. "You're into *him*?"

She'd already used this as her excuse when they broke up, so now she had to stick with it. "Yeah."

"No way. Do you even know who he is? What he does? He's over fifty!"

"I know." Her voice came out almost numb, detached. "He might be older, but he's got charm, money, and power. Being with him? It's a serious upgrade."

Not far from her, on the other side of a wall, there was a barely-seeable hidden door that led into a narrow corridor.

A small group approached from the other end. The guy up front reached for the door, but Elliot gave him a sharp glance and he stopped instantly.

"Leave," Elliot said quietly.

Without asking questions, they nodded and turned back the way they came.

Elliot leaned against the wall and lit up a cigarette.

Between the hidden door and the wall, there was a paper-thin gap-just wide enough for a voice to travel through.

Through it came Charisse's cool, overly cheerful tone.

"Of course I'm with him because I like him. He's everything you weren't, he's successful, he commands respect, and hello-he's loaded big time."

"He's over fifty, but he knows how to treat a woman. Not at all like what people say about him. "

On the other end, Owen sounded like he'd just gotten hit by a truck. "And me? What am I to you?"

"You?" Charisse laughed, voice laced with mockery. "Do you even realize who he is in Draycott? And look at you-what do you have? Without your family's money, you're nobody. You think you can compete with him?"

"But do you get what being with him really means?" Owen shot back. "You're gonna have a rough ride. Do you even know the kind of people he surrounds himself with?""If I like him, I don't care what gets thrown at me. No matter how many people try to make things hard, I'd still choose to be with him."

"Charisse, is Clayton forcing you? Just tell me, I'll go find him right now! Don't worry, I've got your back!"

These were the exact words Charisse feared hearing most from Owen.

"No, he didn't force me. I made the choice myself. Owen, seriously, get a grip. You're nowhere near his level. If you're smart, you'll stop reaching out to me. Don't ruin my chances with someone better."

Charisse almost couldn't believe those cold, hard words had come out of her mouth-especially directed at someone like Owen, who'd treated her so well.

But there was no other way.

On the other end, Owen's voice got lower and shakier till it cracked completely.

Charisse felt a deep ache in her chest. She didn't want to be cruel. But if she didn't draw the line sharply, Owen would just keep clinging on, maybe even do something reckless.

If he crossed Clayton... that would be a disaster.

Her eyes suddenly caught something downstairs-a group of men forcing others into vehicles. The ones being shoved were clearly resisting, but then one got struck hard on the leg with an iron bar. His leg twisted in a way that just wasn't natural.

He collapsed instantly, thrown into the car like he was trash.

Behind them, a few others tossed in two black body bags before several cars revved up and sped off.

Charisse froze. Cold sweat covered her. Those were Clayton's men. One of them was the same guy who'd picked her up at the hotel earlier.

She clenched her jaw, voice icier than before. "Since we're already over, don't bother me again. My fiancé won't appreciate it."

Click. She ended the call.

Gripping the windowsill, Charisse took a few deep breaths, trying to erase that gruesome scene from her mind.

As she turned around, a sudden figure behind her made her flinch.

A cigarette ember glowed faintly at Elliot's fingertips as he stared at her with unreadable intensity.

"Charisse," he called out just as she passed by.

"Is your love really that easy to hand out now?" His tone was sharp. "So as long as it's a guy, you're ready to fall?"

"Oh, look who's got a thing for eavesdropping now."

"Didn't expect to hear something that pathetic," he scoffed. "Same old trick, huh? Using what you pulled on me to reel in someone else? Do you really think men are that easy to fool?"

The sarcasm in his eyes was blatant. His words weren't all that harsh on the surface, but every one of them went straight for the heart.

Elliot knew exactly how proud Charisse was-being talked to like this would absolutely piss her off.

He sat there waiting for her to argue back.

But she didn't. Instead, she let out a small laugh, her voice calm and unbothered. "Yeah, I fall for people pretty easily. So what?"

She raised her chin slightly. "Owen, Clayton... They've all got their own charm. Why shouldn't I like them?"

Elliot's expression turned colder, tone sharper. "You? Like someone? You just fake that affectionate crap to cozy up to powerful guys."

Back when she and Owen broke up, she'd acted all heartbroken, trying to make it seem like they had the perfect love story. And then what? She turned around and latched onto his uncle, going on and on about how wonderful he was and how much she adored him.

Yeah right-that wasn't love, that was climbing the ladder.

"Whether I'm fake or not, what's it to you, Mr. Grant?"

"Of course it's my business. He's my uncle. You think I'm gonna let just anyone with a fake smile get near him?"

"So what if he's your uncle? Clayton himself said he wanted to marry me."

"He's getting on in years. Can't really blame him for being bad at reading people. Some folks are just too good at pretending. Full of sweet talk and lies-that kind of stuff's hard to guard against."

Charisse let out a soft, almost amused laugh. "Well, maybe someone should check who's doing the 'guarding.' Some people were fooled so bad themselves, they've got no right acting all high and mighty now."

That one hit home.

The second she said it, the air between them felt like it dropped ten degrees.

"Say that again," Elliot growled, his voice low and tight, every word iced over.

Charisse pressed her lips together, clearly regretting that last bit.

Elliot wasn't who he used to be. The kind of past he had wasn't something he'd want hauled up again-not now.

But still, wasn't it him who threw the first punch? Dripping sarcasm, every word like a blade."What's wrong? Can't handle someone throwing your own words back at you, Elliot? You can dish it out, but no one's allowed to call you out?"

Elliot stepped closer, pressure rolling off him like a storm cloud. "Keep going. See what happens when you try to 'call me out'."

A warning bell rang in Charisse's mind.

She didn't want to stir up more trouble here-after all, this was Clayton's turf. Too many people around. All it'd take was one wrong glance, one wrong assumption, and she'd be in real trouble.

She tried to walk past him.

He lifted an arm, blocking her path.

She turned her head slightly, and bam, his other arm came up too.

Now she was boxed in, cornered between the wall and him. His gaze bore down on her, low voice laced with danger. "Keep going?"

Voices echoed faintly down the hallway-Clayton's was among them.

Charisse's face hardened. "Move."

Elliot didn't budge. Instead, he leaned in, the heat of his breath brushing her cheek. "If my uncle sees us like this, what do you think he'll assume? That I'm cornering you, or that you're shamelessly throwing yourself at me? Still hoping to marry up, huh?"

Her eyes snapped shut.

Whatever Clayton thought, this situation wouldn't end well.

If someone caught them like this, it'd be seen as a slap in Clayton's face.

No one got away with embarrassing Clayton.

Her whole body tensed. Elliot's smirk deepened, like he knew he had her. "I can't judge your choices? Maybe. But I sure can ruin them. Believe it?"

"Fine-I spoke out of turn, that's on me." Her voice came quick, clipped. "If that's not enough, we can talk, but not here, okay?"

Footsteps were closing in fast, voices clearer by the second.

"Nope." He glanced at her slowly, like he had all the time in the world. "Too late for sorry now."

Charisse's pulse jumped. "Elliot, you-"

"Round two of that five million." And with that, he tilted his head down and kissed her.

Charisse's brain blanked. Her chest tightened like fireworks had exploded right behind her eyes.

He's lost it. Completely.

Was he out of his mind, or did he actually want her dead?

Did he not realize what would happen if Clayton saw them like this?

Charisse shoved at him with all her strength, her palms meeting the unyielding wall of his chest. But Elliot didn't budge an inch-he didn't even sway. Instead, he closed the distance between them, until he was practically on top of her, his body caging hers against the nearest surface.

Every hard plane of his torso pressed into her softer curves. She could feel the steady, controlled rhythm of his breathing-a stark contrast to her own ragged, furious gasps.

Voices came nearer down the hall:

"Oh, Mr. Ellis, you've got to tell us-when's the big day? You won't forget to invite us, will you?"

"Honestly, you and Miss Walton. just perfect together. A real match made in heaven!"

"When I get home, I'm gonna tell my daughter: 'Look at Miss Walton! Hope you find someone half as wonderful as Mr. Ellis someday.'"

Clayton chuckled at all the compliments, obviously basking in the flattery.

They turned the corner.

The hallway was lined with thick, plush carpeting-footsteps barely made a sound. Still, every muffled step pounded in Charisse's head like a warning bell.

She could already picture the look on Clayton's face when he saw them. That smile of his would vanish in an instant, replaced by the sheer humiliation of catching his fiancée tangled up with his own nephew.

Her future? Either a body bag or exile to Clearstone River.

Cold sweat broke out all over her. Just when she was about to panic completely, her right hand, still squirming uselessly, grazed a hidden crack in the wall. Desperation surged-she shoved at it hard.

A door creaked open into darkness.

She stumbled backward into it, dragging Elliot along with her.

The secret door was solid, but designed to close soundlessly. It sealed behind them like they were never there.

Right then, Clayton's group stepped into the hallway.

If any one of them paid the slightest attention, they'd notice a section of the wall trembling slightly.

Charisse leaned against the still-quivering wall, frozen in place. Elliot, meanwhile, had her caged in, his lips trailing down with maddening precision, making her head spin.

Behind her, footsteps drew closer. If one of them opened the door now, there'd be nowhere left to run.

The tension shot through the roof. Her breath stuck in her throat. Right now, her entire being had narrowed to just one sense-hearing. She swore she could even catch the sound of pant legs brushing against each other as Clayton passed.

Then, Elliot finally let go.

His breath ghosted along her neck, his smirk practically audible as he whispered low into her ear, "Should we invite them in?"

Charisse hissed back, "To do what, cheer us on?"

"Hey, a million-bucks-a-kiss deal like this? It deserves an audience."

She shot him a glare, words drying up.

Outside, the sound of shoes grew faint. They'd made it. No one noticed the hidden door.

Charisse exhaled, lungs finally working again.

Her legs went weak. The whole thing felt like barely dodging death.

Not far away, a polite staff member stopped Clayton. He'd overheard Charisse on the phone earlier, and now, he was telling Clayton everything he'd caught.It wasn't really about anything else-Charisse's words were sweet, and if Mr. Ellis was in a good mood hearing them, maybe he'd throw a little bonus his way.

"Miss Walton just said you're better than anyone else, that she really likes you. She even said no matter how hard things get, nothing's gonna stop her from being with you..." The waiter spoke with a look full of admiration, "Mr. Ellis, your relationship with Miss Walton is honestly goals."

Clayton responded with his usual gentlemanly smile, but you could tell he was in a great mood. The faint lines by his eyes only made him look more charming. "Got it. Go find Ashen for your tip."

The waiter lit up immediately and bowed, "Thank you, Mr. Ellis!"

The people behind Clayton had obviously heard too. They started chuckling, tossing out congratulations here and there.

"That guy's your plant, isn't he?" Elliot murmured in Charisse's ear. "And that phone call earlier-bet it was all staged. You just wanted Clayton to overhear it and think you're some perfect little angel, didn't you?"

Charisse was honestly floored by how much hostility he threw her way. "Wow, I'm not that desperate."

Elliot let out a soft snort. "Yeah? Hard to say with someone like you. You'll do whatever it takes to climb up the ladder."

At that point, she was just tired. She couldn't even bring herself to guess how low he thought of her anymore. In his eyes, she probably had every terrible trait imaginable-manipulative, phony, scheming... and all of it pinned on her without hesitation.

She didn't bother defending herself-not because she had nothing to say, but because it didn't matter. He wouldn't believe her anyway. In his world, she'd already been nailed to the wall like some kind of disgrace.

He waited a beat without hearing her respond, then added, "What, nothing to say? I hit the nail on the head, didn't I?"

Annoyance bubbled up inside her. She gave up entirely and snapped, "Think what you want."

Whatever. As soon as they got out of there, she'd just avoid him like the plague and dodge any more verbal jabs.

But then the conversation outside suddenly shifted tracks.

"Looking at that painting just reminded me of that diamond mosaic from the Middle Ages that Sotheby's showcased earlier this year. Wasn't it bought by Mr. Ellis?"

"Yeah, he paid 250 mil for it. I was lucky enough to see it in person once. It's supposed to be here at Nocturne, right?"

"Really? Mr. Ellis, could we take a look? That thing's a masterpiece."

Charisse froze instantly.

Her eyes slowly drifted up toward the huge frame just behind Elliot.

The grass was made of jade green agate, the night sky paved with sapphire and diamonds-subtle and luxurious, glowing in the dim light. It really was breathtaking.

Who would've thought something so priceless would be left hanging on the wall of a barely lit hallway at some private club?

"If you guys wanna see it, of course," Clayton replied. "Lucky coincidence-it's just right here."

He had already turned and started walking their way.

Before Charisse even had a chance to react, she felt the hidden door behind her begin to open slowly.

And right in front of her, Elliot was still pressed up against her-a pose that looked way too intimate.