The air crackled, thick with tension that was equal parts desire and danger. Victor's hand moved, slow and deliberate, until his fingers grazed hers on the table. The contact was electric, a spark that jolted through her, and she fought the urge to pull away—or to lean closer. His touch lingered, his thumb tracing a slow circle over her knuckle, and she felt the weight of his intent in every movement.
"You're bold," he said, his voice rough with something that sounded like hunger. "But boldness can be a blade, Eva. It cuts both ways."
She tilted her head, her hair falling over one shoulder, exposing the curve of her neck. "I'm not afraid of a little blood," she said, her words a deliberate echo of their earlier encounter. "Are you?"
His eyes flashed, a predator recognizing a worthy opponent. He withdrew his hand, but the absence of his touch only heightened her awareness of him. "You're not what I expected," he said, leaning back slightly, as if to study her from a new angle. "Most women in your position would be… predictable. But you—you're a puzzle. And I'm very good at solving puzzles."
Eva's heart pounded, but she kept her expression cool, her smile teasing. "Keep trying," she said, picking up his bourbon and taking a slow sip, her lips lingering on the glass. "I'm not that easy to figure out."
Victor watched her, his gaze heavy with intent, and for a moment, she thought he might close the distance between them, claim her right there in the shadowed booth. But he didn't. Instead, he stood, extending a hand. "Dance with me," he said, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
She hesitated, her instincts screaming to maintain control, but the pull of him was too strong. She placed her hand in his, her skin tingling at the contact, and let him lead her to the small dance floor. The music was slow, sensual, a rhythm that demanded closeness. Victor pulled her against him, one hand settling on the small of her back, the other guiding her arm around his neck. Their bodies pressed together, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of her dress.
"You're trembling," he murmured, his lips close to her ear, his voice a velvet caress. "Nervous?"
"No," she lied, her voice steady despite the storm in her chest. "Just… aware."
"Of what?" His hand tightened on her back, his fingers splaying possessively over her bare skin.
"Of you," she said, her lips brushing his jaw as she spoke, a deliberate provocation. "Of how dangerous this could get."
He chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated through her. "You have no idea," he said, his hand sliding lower, resting just above the curve of her hip. "But you're not running. Why is that?"
She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with defiance and something deeper, something she couldn't name. "Because I don't run," she said, her voice fierce. "Not from you. Not from anyone."
Victor's expression shifted, a flicker of respect mingling with desire. He spun her slowly, their bodies moving in perfect sync, and when he pulled her back, his lips were inches from hers. "You're a rare creature, Eva," he said, his voice rough with want. "But even rare things can break."
"Then try to break me," she whispered, her breath mingling with his. "I dare you."
The challenge hung between them, a live wire sparking in the dark. Victor's eyes darkened, and for a heartbeat, she thought he'd kiss her, claim her in a way that would shatter her carefully laid plans. But he didn't. Instead, he tightened his grip, his body pressing harder against hers, and they danced, their movements a silent battle of wills.
The song ended, but neither of them moved, locked in a moment too intense to break. Eva's heart raced, her body alive with the thrill of him, the danger of him. She'd come here to seduce, to manipulate, but the lines were blurring, and she was no longer sure who was in control.
**Flashback**
Eva sat on her apartment floor, the remnants of the shattered photo frame scattered around her. It was the night after Sophia's cruel dismissal, and the silence of her apartment was deafening. She'd found an old journal, one she and Sophia had shared in high school, filled with dreams and secrets. Eva's entries were earnest, hopeful, while Sophia's were sharp, ambitious, always hinting at a hunger for more.
One entry, written in Sophia's looping scrawl, caught Eva's eye: *"I'll have it all one day. The guy, the life, the power. And I'll take it, no matter who's in my way."*
The words had chilled Eva then, a glimpse into the friend she thought she knew. Now, they were a prophecy fulfilled. Sophia had taken Liam, taken Eva's trust, and left her with nothing but rage. The journal was ashes now, burned in a fit of fury, but its words lingered, fueling Eva's resolve. Sophia wanted power? Eva would show her what real power looked like.
The club faded back Into focus as Victor led Eva off the dance floor, his hand still on her back, a possessive anchor. He guided her to a secluded alcove, its velvet curtains shielding them from prying eyes. The air was heavier here, the shadows deeper, and Eva felt the weight of what was coming.
"Tell me something true," Victor said, his voice low, his eyes searching hers. "No games, no masks. Why are you really here?"
Eva's breath caught, the question cutting through her defenses. She could lie, spin a story to keep him hooked, but something in his gaze—raw, unguarded—demanded honesty. Or at least a piece of it.
"I'm here because I'm done being invisible," she said, her voice steady but laced with pain. "Because someone took everything from me, and I'm taking it back. Starting with you."
Victor's eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Me?" he said, stepping closer, his body crowding hers against the wall. "You think you can use me, Eva? That I'm a pawn in your little revenge scheme?"
Her heart pounded, but she didn't back down. "Maybe," she said, her voice a challenge. "Or maybe you're the one using me. Either way, we're both getting something out of this."
He studied her, his expression unreadable, and then he laughed—a dark, dangerous sound that sent a thrill through her. "You're honest," he said, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "I like that. But honesty comes with a price."
Before she could respond, he kissed her, his lips claiming hers with a hunger that stole her breath. The kiss was fire, fierce and unrelenting, and Eva melted into it, her hands fisting in his shirt. It was nothing like Liam's kisses, tentative and familiar. This was raw, consuming, a collision of need and power. Victor's tongue teased hers, his teeth grazing her lip, and she moaned, the sound swallowed by the heat of him.
He pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, his breath ragged. "You're going to ruin me," he said, his voice rough with want. "Or I'm going to ruin you. Maybe both."
Eva's lips curved, a reckless smile born of adrenaline and desire. "Let's find out," she said, her voice a husky promise.
They stood there, locked in the aftermath of the kiss, the world beyond the curtains fading away. Eva's plan was still in place, her revenge still burning, but Victor was no longer just a means to an end. He was a storm, and she was caught in its center, unsure if she'd emerge whole.
As they parted, Victor's hand lingered on her cheek, his eyes promising more—more danger, more desire, more destruction. Eva walked away, her body humming with the thrill of what she'd unleashed. Liam and Sophia were still out there, laughing, plotting, thinking they'd won. But Eva was no longer their victim. She was a force, a reckoning, and she'd burn their world to ashes.
Even if it meant burning with it.