Chapter 7

The heavy oak doors of the VIP suite swing open, releasing a cloud of expensive cigar smoke and the low hum of power.

Chantal walks in, her hand gripping Dell's arm.

Two men are sitting on the plush leather sofas. One is Jay Elliott, Dell's Chief Technology Officer, holding a glass of amber liquid. The other man sits in the center. He radiates quiet authority. Senator Chauncey Lewis.

Jay whistles low. "Well, well. You finally let the wife out of the cage, Dell."

Dell ignores the comment. He leads Chantal to the sofa and introduces them.

When Chantal hears the name Chauncey Lewis, she extends her hand. As their fingers touch, a bizarre, unexplainable wave of familiarity washes over her. His eyes, a shade so similar to her own, hold a warmth that instantly puts her at ease.

Chauncey holds her hand for a second longer than necessary. His sharp eyes scan her face, a look of deep curiosity flashing across his features.

"It is a pleasure, Chantal," Chauncey says, releasing her hand. He smiles warmly. "What do you do to keep yourself busy?"

"I am the Design Director at Lumina Jewelry," Chantal says, expecting the politician to immediately lose interest.

Instead, Chauncey leans forward. "Lumina. You are dealing with the global supply chain disruptions in the diamond market, then. How are you pivoting the brand?"

Chantal's eyes light up. The crushing anxiety of the night vanishes. She sits forward and begins to explain her strategy for ethical sourcing and rebranding.

She speaks with fierce intelligence and passion. She is completely in her element.

Chauncey listens intently, nodding, his eyes filled with genuine admiration. "That is brilliant. I have several contacts in Washington who would be very interested in your new line. I will introduce you."

Chantal beams. A real, dazzling smile breaks across her face. "Thank you, Senator. That would mean everything to me."

Beside her, the temperature drops below freezing.

Dell is staring at the smile on Chantal's face. A smile she has never, not once, given to him.

A dark, violent wave of jealousy crashes through his chest. His jaw clenches so tight his teeth grind together.

Chantal reaches for her champagne glass on the table.

Before her fingers can touch the crystal stem, Dell's large hand shoots out. He grabs her glass.

He lifts it to his mouth and downs the entire glass of champagne in one aggressive swallow, his eyes locked dead on Chauncey.

The conversation dies instantly. Jay raises an eyebrow, highly amused by the sudden tension.

Dell slams the empty glass down on the glass table. The sharp crack makes Chantal jump.

"Do not make promises to my wife, Senator," Dell says. His voice is dangerously low. "She doesn't need your contacts."

Chantal stares at him in absolute shock. Her face burns with embarrassment.

Chauncey blinks, surprised by the hostility, but he recovers smoothly. "Just offering a helping hand to a talented woman, Dell. No offense intended."

Chantal is furious. Under the table, out of sight, she lifts the sharp heel of her shoe and stomps down hard on Dell's foot.

Dell does not even flinch. His face remains a mask of stone.

Before Chantal can pull her foot back, Dell's hand drops beneath the table. His long fingers wrap around her bare ankle like a vice.

He squeezes. Hard.

Chantal gasps, her spine snapping straight. The physical warning shoots up her leg. She freezes, terrified to move.

Dell stands up abruptly, pulling her up with him by her arm.

"We are leaving," Dell announces.

He doesn't wait for a response. He turns and drags Chantal toward the door.

"I am so sorry, Senator!" Chantal manages to call out over her shoulder, stumbling in her high heels as Dell pulls her into the hallway.

The heavy doors shut behind them.

Dell does not let go of her arm. He marches her down the long corridor toward the elevator, his entire body radiating a furious, explosive energy.