Chapter 4 Terms of Seduction

The apartment was too quiet.

Emily's heels echoed against the polished marble floor as she followed Liam into the penthouse suite. Her crimson dress clung to her curves, the fabric whispering against her thighs. Her fingers still trembled slightly-from the press conference, from the flashing lights, from the way Liam had looked at her as if she were something more than a pawn.

"You sure we're safe here?" she asked, glancing at the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline.

Liam tapped a code into the wall panel. "Safe as a mafia prince can be in a penthouse owned under a shell company registered to a billionaire who technically doesn't exist."

"Comforting."

He glanced back with a smirk. "You could always sleep with a kitchen knife under your pillow."

"I already do," she replied dryly, tossing her clutch on the velvet couch.

He chuckled, loosening his tie. "You know, sarcasm is oddly sexy on you."

"Must be all the trauma," she said, slipping out of her heels. "It really enhances the wit."

She expected him to laugh again, but instead, he went still-his eyes following her every move. There was heat in his gaze, quiet and simmering. Not the burning desire of a man used to getting his way, but something more deliberate.

Emily's breath hitched. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're considering breaking one of the clauses in our fake marriage agreement."

He walked slowly toward her, every inch of him predator in a three-thousand-dollar suit. "Correction. You never wrote that clause."

She held her ground. "So what happens if we cross that line?"

He stopped just a breath away, close enough that she could smell his cologne-dark spice and danger.

"Then maybe it's not fake anymore."

The words settled between them like an invitation.

Emily wanted to argue, to remind him of the risks. Of her brother. Of the fact that mafia engagements rarely ended with happy honeymoon photos. But instead, she whispered, "You're still an arrogant bastard."

His grin was sharp and wicked. "You married me anyway."

And just like that, he kissed her.

It wasn't soft. It wasn't sweet. It was fire meeting gasoline.

Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, while his fingers dug into her waist like he needed to anchor himself. The world tilted. The city faded. And in that moment, nothing else existed-no enemies, no cameras, no contracts.

Just heat.

When they finally broke apart, she was breathless. "Is this how you negotiate all your business deals?"

"Only the ones that matter."

He pressed another kiss to her throat, then murmured, "Let me take care of you tonight. No lies. No enemies. Just us."

Emily's chest tightened.

She had built walls. Walls so high even she couldn't see over them. But this man-this beast in tailored clothing-had found the cracks. And he wasn't even trying to hide it.

She nodded, barely whispering, "Okay."

But just as his hands slid to her back, a phone buzzed.

Liam cursed under his breath and checked the screen. His jaw clenched. "We have a problem."

Emily blinked, reality crashing in. "Of course we do. Why would we have even five minutes of peace?"

"It's from Helen. Victor's people intercepted our move on the port shipment. Someone on our side is leaking intel."

She stepped back. "You mean a traitor."

"Worse," he muttered. "A familiar one."

The name Helen sent next made Liam's face go cold.

"Carter," he said darkly.

Emily stiffened. "Your childhood friend? The one who helped you clean up after the warehouse fire?"

Liam nodded. "He knew everything about our plans. And he just sold us out."

For a moment, silence.

Then Emily's expression hardened. "So what are we going to do about it?"

Liam slid back into his suit jacket. "What I do best."

"Which is?"

He flashed a devilish smirk. "Ruining people."

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her flats from the corner. "You're really leaning into the villain vibe, huh?"

"Tell me it's not sexy."

"It's sexy in a morally bankrupt sort of way."

He held the door open for her. "Come on, Mrs. Westwood. Let's go make someone cry."

They left the penthouse under the cover of night, cloaked in a black SUV with tinted windows. Emily's pulse thudded. She wasn't just playing dress-up anymore. She wasn't a pawn. She was beside the king-and now, she was part of the game.

They met Helen in a dimly lit warehouse-because of course they did. Mafia meetings and brooding villains required ambiance.

"Carter's on the move," Helen said, sliding a tablet across the table. "He's heading to the warehouse near Pier 7. Likely to hand off intel."

Liam studied the map. "I want eyes on him. No interference until I say so."

Helen raised an eyebrow. "And if he makes the deal before you get there?"

Liam's voice was ice. "Then I break both their hands and ask questions later."

Emily blinked. "Okay, mafia king. Dial it down. This isn't an episode of 'How to Lose Your Soul in 10 Easy Steps.'"

Liam's mouth twitched. "You keep me grounded."

"I'm not your therapist."

"No," he said, glancing at her lips. "You're much more dangerous."

That was the last joke for a while.

Because when they arrived at the warehouse, everything went sideways.

Carter wasn't alone.

He was with Victor.

Emily ducked behind the car door, her heart slamming.

"They're early," Helen muttered.

"No," Liam said tightly. "We're late."

Victor paced in front of the warehouse, gun at his hip, voice raised. "-I told you he'd come running. Westwood doesn't know how to stay out of things that don't belong to him."

Carter laughed nervously. "You promised me protection."

Victor sneered. "I promised you an exit, not a happy ending."

Then-gunshot.

Carter crumpled to the ground.

Emily's gasp was silent, hands clenching against the dashboard.

Victor turned toward the shadows. "I know you're watching, Liam. Come out and play."

Liam's jaw flexed. "Get Emily out of here."

"No way," she whispered. "I'm not leaving you."

"You swore to stay safe."

She touched his arm. "And you swore this wasn't fake."

Their eyes locked.

Then Liam kissed her-quick, desperate, and full of something he couldn't say aloud.

When he pulled away, his voice was rough. "If I don't make it-"

"You will."

"-then burn this city for me."

Emily managed a shaky smile. "Only if you ask nicely."

He disappeared into the dark, leaving her breathless and shaking.

Victor might have killed his traitor. But he didn't know the real threat was still watching.

And this time, Emily wasn't just waiting in the shadows.

She was ready to fight back.