Chapter 9

Mike's POV

I leaned lazily against the bar, sipping on a glass of whiskey, watching the scene unfold from my vantage point near the bar.

The president of the Jewelers Association, Efrain Hubbard, a burly man in his fifties, was deeply engrossed in conversation with Jane and Lucas.

Even from here, I could sense his lecherous gaze lingering on Jane. Tonight, Jane wore a black evening gown that accentuated her already sensual figure. The low-cut dress, with its occasional glimpse of cleavage, inevitably attracted many eyes.

"I didn't expect Ms. James to be even more beautiful in person than in the media," Efrain's voice carried that particular tone I'd heard too many times at these events. "Perhaps you could come to my room [2008] later to briefly discuss the details of the contract."

Lucas nodded respectfully, not even glancing at Jane.

My grip tightened on the tumbler. Jane had chased Hunter for six years, projecting this image of unwavering devotion. Yet here she was, letting Lucas pimp her out for business.

I cast a disdainful glance at them and turned to find Hunter, intending to warn him to stay away from Jane. When I spotted him in the corner, he was methodically sipping his whiskey while scanning the crowd. His face was its usual mask of aristocratic indifference, but I knew him well enough to spot the tension in his jaw.

"The things people do for business these days," I kept my voice casual, casually taking a glass of champagne from a waiter. "Especially the women. One quick trip upstairs, spread their legs, and deals just... materialize."

Hunter's glass paused halfway to his lips. "Who exactly are you talking about?"

"Take a wild guess," I watched him over the rim of my glass. "Your little admirer who just spent the night with you and then moved on to her next conquest."

His eyes narrowed fractionally, on the verge of erupting in anger. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but I'd known Hunter since college.

"Who?" he suppressed his volume.

"Efrain..." Before I could finish my sentence, he stood up and headed straight for the elevator. "Going somewhere?"

He didn't bother responding, just pulled out his phone and started typing as he walked away. I shrugged and smiled wryly at my glass, wondering if I was meddling too much.

The message came a few minutes later: [Room number?]

I texted back concisely: [2008]

Setting down my glass, I surveyed the glittering crowd. Lucas was chatting and laughing with another group of people. And Jane... Jane was nowhere to be seen.

My phone buzzed again. This time from Chelsea: [What's happening at the gala? Jane's not answering her phone.]

I typed back: [Don't worry. Hunter's handling it.]

The response was immediate: [Thank god. Keep me posted.]

I ordered another drink and settled in to wait. The show was just getting started.

The minutes ticked by. I imagined Hunter's cold fury building with each step. Jane probably had no idea what she'd awakened. I almost felt sorry for her.

My phone lit up with a message from the old classmates' group. Someone had posted a photo of Jane from earlier, noting how cozy she'd looked with Lucas. The comments started flying:

[Looks like Hunter's got competition]

[She moves fast!]

[Wonder if Lucas knows about her and Hunter...]

I muted the chat. They had no idea what was really happening upstairs right now. Hunter might project that image of icy control, but I'd seen what lay beneath.

Efrain's laugh boomed across the ballroom, drawing my attention. He was now checking messages on his phone. A moment later, I watched him leave.

I smiled. What kind of message was that? It must have been... persuasive?

Chelsea texted again: [Any news?]

[Not yet. But don't worry, everything will be fine.]

Jane's POV

In the dim light of room 2008, I smiled coldly as I replayed the recording. Efrain's promises of legal business for Sullivan & James came through crystal clear, along with some rather... compromising admissions.

"Remember, Mr. Hubbard," I spoke to the person opposite me in the silence, "attempting to solicit sexual favors in exchange for business contracts is a federal offense."

Just earlier, the moment Efrain entered the room, he demanded I sleep with him, promising all the legal cases of the chamber of commerce to Sullivan-James Law Firm.

Fortunately, I had started recording the moment I walked in. Without this recording, he wouldn't be so afraid of me!

Checking my appearance in the mirror, I smoothed down my black evening gown.

"That's enough for tonight," I said, grabbing my black clutch and striding out the door with a defiant air.

The sound around the corner of the hallway made me stop. The distinct crackle of a police radio echoed through the air. Several men in uniform brushed past me, stopping abruptly at room 2008. They began pounding on the door with force:

"Room check, possible solicitation reported..."

I was surprised, 'The police would raid this room at this time. Someone must have reported it.'

I moved with practiced nonchalance toward the service elevator.

Until I saw him. A familiar tall figure suddenly came into view...

Hunter stood by the main elevator, his tuxedo still immaculate, his expression carved from ice. As our eyes met, his lips curved into that infuriating smirk I knew too well.

I figured out who had tipped them off and couldn't help but smile.

"Attorney Huxley, don't you have anything better to do than making secret reports?"

He glanced at me and suddenly shouted toward the hallway: "Officer, the woman in room 2008 is..."

Before he could finish, I gritted my teeth and clamped my hand over his mouth, quickly explaining:

"Which eye of yours saw me sleeping with Efrain? I just taught him a lesson! If you don't believe me, I even have a recording!"

I maintained my composure, though anger flared hot beneath my skin. "But why did you report it? Was it because you didn't want to see me sleeping with another man?"

Hunter briefly looked down at me, then extended his hand: "The recording."

My fingers tightened around the device in my clutch, I glared at him, unwilling to back down.

"Don't overthink it," his laugh was soft, dangerous. "We're competitors by nature, so why would I let you secure Mr. Hubbard and get the Jewelers Association's business? Hand it over, Jane. Or shall we discuss it with the officers?"

The elevator dinged behind him. I could hear the police getting closer.

"You bastard," I hissed, but placed the recorder in his outstretched palm.

"I suppose it's necessary for me to verify its authenticity?" he said, stepping into the elevator with the recorder in hand.

I had finally secured the promise, only to have it snatched away so easily. Unwilling to accept defeat, I followed him into the elevator.