The restaurant was dimly lit, smelling of expensive truffles and aged wine.
Gianna stood near the hostess stand, her eyes scanning the room. She was wearing a silk blouse, unbuttoned just enough at the collar, and tight black trousers.
She spotted him immediately.
Algot Vaughn IV sat alone at a corner booth. The shadows seemed to cling to him. He was reading a file, a glass of amber liquid untouched next to his hand.
Gianna's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, heavy rhythm. She forced her breathing to slow down. She squared her shoulders and walked straight toward his table.
She did not ask for permission. She pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down.
Algot slowly lowered the file. His dark eyes locked onto her face. He did not look surprised. He looked completely, terrifyingly calm.
"Hello again, mystery man," Gianna said. Her voice was steady, laced with a deliberate, slow drawl.
Algot did not speak. He just stared at her, waiting.
Gianna leaned forward. She reached up to the collar of her silk blouse. With a slow, deliberate motion, she unbuttoned the top two buttons and pulled the fabric aside, exposing the skin of her neck and collarbone. The dark purple bruises stood out starkly against her pale skin.
Algot's eyes dropped to her throat. The muscle in his jaw jumped.
Gianna reached across the table. She grabbed his large, warm hand. He stiffened, but he did not pull away. She dragged his hand across the table and pressed his palm flat against the bruises on her skin.
The heat of his hand seeped into her flesh. She felt a slight tremor in his fingers.
"You are playing with fire," Algot said. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated in her chest.
Gianna leaned closer. Her face was inches from his.
"Maybe I like the fire," Gianna whispered.
Algot's eyes darkened. He looked at her mouth, then back up to her eyes. His fingers flexed against the bruises on her throat—the marks he had left—pressing slightly into her skin.
"You are playing with fire," Algot said. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated in her chest.
Gianna kept his hand pressed to her neck, refusing to let him pull away.
"What do you want?" Algot asked coldly. "Money?"
Gianna shook her head slowly. She held his hand in place against her throat.
"I want you," Gianna said. The words hung in the air between them, heavy and direct.
Algot stared at her. For a split second, pure shock flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by a burning, intense heat.
"You are the first man who has ever made me feel... interested," Gianna lied smoothly, pouring honey into her voice.
Algot abruptly pulled his hand away from her neck. He stood up. His massive frame towered over the table.
"You have no idea what you are talking about," Algot said. His voice was tight, strained with the effort of holding himself back.
Gianna stood up too. She stepped around the table, blocking his path.
"I know exactly what I am talking about," Gianna said, looking up into his eyes. "I know you feel it too. You react to me."
Algot looked down at her. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He remembered the way her touch had erased his pain - twice now. But he also knew his curse. He knew he would only destroy her.
He stepped around her, his arm brushing against hers, and walked quickly toward the exit.
Gianna did not follow him. She turned and watched his broad back disappear through the doors. A slow, triumphant smile spread across her lips.
He was running. That meant he was losing control.
"Gianna! Who are you trying to seduce now?"
The shrill, grating voice shattered the moment.
Gianna turned around. Kayden was standing a few feet away, her face twisted in an ugly sneer. Asa Hogan stood behind her, looking uncomfortable.
Gianna's smile vanished. The real war was just beginning.
