Chapter 19 : Opening Moves

I wanted to throw the plate at his head.

He’s trying to soften you. Don’t, Ciel whispered in my head.

I stabbed a potato harder than necessary. I know.

Xavier didn’t make small talk. He didn’t ask how the food was or pretend to be polite. He just sat there in an open-collar shirt, his violet eyes cataloging my every move. The silence grew heavy between us.

When I finally set my fork down, the sound felt too loud.

He stood up. “Come with me.”

I leaned back. “I’m full. We can talk here.”

“No,” he said, already walking away. “We can’t.”

I waited three seconds out of principle before pushing back my chair and following him. The hallway was expensive and silent. Mrs. Gable was nowhere to be seen; she was a smart woman.

Xavier opened a heavy door and stepped aside. He didn’t move far enough to let me pass without our shoulders brushing.

The room was grand: dark wood, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, and a desk large enough to sign treaties on. One wall was lined with pristine books. Another held a red and black abstract painting that probably cost more than my entire apartment building.

He closed the door. Click.

I crossed my arms. “Alright. Talk. Why the equipment? Why the sudden interest? Why the contract you keep shoving at me?”

Xavier poured himself a drink of scotch. He didn’t offer me any.

“You already know the answer to the last one,” he said, leaning against the desk.

“I refused it.”

“You refused the first version,” he replied. “I’m open to negotiation.”

I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “Negotiation? You’ve tracked my every move for six years and dangled money over my head. We aren’t on equal footing.”

“I never claimed we were,” he said flatly.

I walked to the window, putting the desk between us. “You let me rot in The Pit. You knew what was happening and did nothing. Now you want me on a leash with a fancy title and an allowance. I’m not flattered.”

He set the glass down firmly. “I want you under contract because the alternative is worse.”

“For who?”

“Both of us.”

“Explain.”

He stepped toward me. He didn’t rush, but his approach felt inevitable. When he stopped, the heat coming off him reached my knees. Inside me, Ciel went still.

“The bond never went away,” he said softly. “Not for me. Not for the wolf. I tried distance. I tried ignoring it. I even tried letting you hate me enough to break it.”

“It didn’t work,” I said. “Then that’s your problem, not mine.”

His lips curved, but it didn’t reach anywhere near his eyes. “You really haven’t changed.

“Neither have you. You still think stating a problem means it’s my job to fix it.”

His eyes dropped to the contract. “You need resources. Protection. Access.”

“And you need me.”

His knuckles went white as he gripped the edge of the desk for a split second. I noticed. My wolf noticed too.

I smiled. “Interesting.”

“Don’t mistake honesty for weakness,” he warned.

I walked to the desk and picked up the contract. The amount of money offered was obscene. It was enough to replace six years of counting pennies, but it would cost me my freedom.

I set the paper back down carefully. “You have the money, the political connections, and the Royal Territories. Half the corporations in Vanguard answer to you. You could ruin me without lifting a finger.”

“Yes.”

“But you can’t make me want you.”

For the first time, he smiled. “That is why I want you. I don’t need another woman who obeys. I have thousands of those. You’re the only one who looks at all this power and asks what it’s going to cost.”

Don’t listen to him, Ciel snapped.

“Don’t romanticize it,” I told him.

“I’m not. I’m negotiating.”

I picked up the contract again. My hands barely shook. “Then negotiate.”

“What are your terms?”

“I keep my clinic.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw.

“My apartment.”

“My name.”

He said nothing.

But his eyes dropped to my mouth like he was thinking about shutting me up himself.

“No public claims unless I agree. You don’t control where I go, who I see, or what work I do.”

“That’s negotiable.”

“No. Those aren’t suggestions.”

Something dark and hot flashed in his eyes.

I kept going. “And when I decide this arrangement is over, it’s over.”

“No.”

I lowered the contract. “Then we don’t have a deal.” I turned toward the door.

“Ravenna.”

I stopped, but I didn’t turn around.

“You walked into my home knowing exactly who I am.”

I looked over my shoulder, just enough to see him. “And you still haven’t figured out who I am.”

Traitor. Ciel’s snarl scraped the inside of my ribs at me. Her claws pricked.

Shut up.

His head cocked slightly. His pupils blew. He pushed off the desk.

Now I could see the pulse hammering in his throat. The heat coming off his shirt hit me. He stopped a breath away, but he didn’t touch me.

My skin felt tight where he wasn’t touching me.

“You’re going to be a problem,” he murmured. It was low enough that I felt it more than heard it.

I lifted my chin until our mouths were inches apart. “You’ve been warned.”

My hand found the handle. The cold metal bit into my palm.

“You haven’t accepted the contract.”

I looked back.

He was waiting, like he already knew how this ends.

“No,” I said.

His mouth curved into a slow, dark smile. “Then stay a little longer.” His gaze dropped, then went back up, and caught on my mouth. “Don’t you want to hear the revised terms first?”

The handle went slick under my palm. In my chest, Ciel let out a low, wet growl that tried to climb up my throat.

The door was right there. All I had to do was pull.

I didn’t.