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The champagne flute in Lucian Moretti’s hand didn't tremble. Not a drop spilled over the crystal rim as he steered Selena past the low murmur of the financial elite, his thumb resting feather-light against the back of her wrist—just enough to anchor her, just enough to signal to every predatory eye in the room that she was currently classified under off-limits. / Chapter 17 / 20

Chapter 17 - The Empire RestsThe penthouse returned to its quiet, immaculate state as if nothing had ever happened. The rain continued to drum against the glass, washing away the last traces of the storm outside.

Selena walked over to the kitchen island, poured her glass of water, and took a long, steady sip.

Lucian watched her from across the room, leaning casually against the mahogany counter, a slow, appreciative smile curving his lips. "You didn't flinch once."

"Why would I?" Selena asked, setting her glass down and turning to meet his gaze. "I've spent years managing crises much worse than a desperate man with a pistol. At least a gun has predictable ballistics. Corporate backstabbers are much harder to track."

Lucian chuckled, walking over to wrap his arms securely around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He buried his face in her dark hair, breathing in the clean, sharp scent of her perfume mixed with the night air.

"What do we do tomorrow?" he murmured against her ear. "The European acquisitions are closed, Rostov is neutralized, and Cross is heading back to a federal penitentiary."

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Selena turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, her dark eyes sparkling with a fierce, brilliant ambition that eclipsed the city lights outside.

"Tomorrow," she whispered, rising slightly onto her tiptoes to meet his lips, "we expand into Asia."

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