7

EVERLY's POV

Steve’s car smelled like the kind of money Spencer had spent his whole life pretending to have. Heavy, expensive, and suffocating. I leaned my head against the leather, watching the Chicago skyline blur into a messy smear of neon. Behind us, the Sterling Estate was shrinking, along with whatever was left of Spencer’s dignity.

"You’re quiet," Steve said.

He didn't look at me. He kept one hand on the wheel, looking as bored as if he’d just finished a routine meeting instead of a declaration of war. That was the difference between him and my ex-husband. Spencer needed to scream to feel powerful. Steve just needed to exist.

"I’m waiting for him to snap," I replied. "Spencer is a cockroach. He’ll find a way to crawl back into the walls. He won't give up that merger without trying to take someone down with him."

"Let him try." Steve pulled the car over at a dark overlook facing the lake. He killed the engine, and the silence that rushed in was thick enough to taste. "In fact, I'm counting on it. A man who fights while he’s drowning only exhausts himself faster."

He turned in his seat. The cabin was small, and suddenly, his presence felt like a weight on my chest.

"You did well tonight," he said. His eyes—cold, gray, and completely unreadable—tracked the pulse in my neck. "But you’re still holding back. You’re playing the vengeful wife, but you’re too scared to be the predator."

"I'm not scared," I snapped.

"Liar." Steve’s hand moved. He didn't grab me. He just traced the line of my jaw with the back of his knuckles. His skin was cool, but it felt like a brand. "Your heart is thumping against your ribs, Everly. Is it fear? Or did you just realize how much you liked watching him burn?"

"Maybe both," I whispered.

Steve leaned in. He didn't close the gap, but I could feel the heat radiating off him. "Good. Fear keeps you sharp. Pleasure keeps you motivated. Use both."

He grazed my lower lip with his thumb—a slow, deliberate move that felt less like a caress and more like a claim. "Spencer thinks he knows you. He thinks you’re a soft creature who needs a hand to hold. Tonight, we start rewriting that."

"We’re already partners, Steve. What else do you want?"

"I want the world to think you’re untouchable," he growled. "And the only way to do that is to make them think you belong to someone they’re too terrified to cross."

He reached into the console and pulled out a small box. He flipped it open. Inside wasn't a diamond. It was a ruby, deep and red as a fresh wound, set in black gold.

"Is this a proposal?" I asked, a dry laugh catching in my throat.

"It’s an insurance policy," Steve said. He took my hand, his grip firm as he slid the ring onto my finger. It was heavy. "You’re not wearing the Chandler name at the Gala. Not yet. You’ll wear mine. We don't need to say a word. Let the ring do the talking. Let Spencer wonder if I’ve already made you mine in the shadows."

I stared at the ruby. It looked lethal. "You said you don't play 'fake boyfriend,' Steve."

"I don't," he said, his breath fanning my cheek. He smelled like dark chocolate and tobacco. "If you wear this, you're playing for keeps. When we make it official at the Gala, there’s no turning back. You won't just be taking Spencer’s company. You’ll be entering my world. And my world eats people like you for breakfast."

I looked into his eyes and didn't see a savior. I saw a storm. And I was tired of being the girl who ran for cover.

"I spent three years being a trophy," I said, my voice finally hardening. "If I’m going to be a queen, I want a king who doesn't mind a little blood on the throne."

A slow, dark smile spread across his face. It wasn't kind. It was predatory. "Then we’re going to be a perfect match."

He didn't kiss me. Instead, he pressed his forehead against mine—a gesture that felt more binding than a kiss. I could feel the raw strength in him, the absolute certainty.

"Go home, Everly," he said, his voice returning to that chilly, authoritative tone. "Get some sleep. The next six days are going to be a bloodbath. I need you at your best."

"And you?"

"I have some loose ends to tie up," he said, his eyes darkening. "Spencer tried to dig for dirt on me tonight. I think it’s time I reminded him why nobody ever finds anything."

I got out of the car, the night air hitting my face. I watched the SUV roar away, leaving me standing there with a ring that felt like a promise of chaos.