Christopher Bryant tossed out casually, "These are brand new."
Juliette Weaver eyed the black leggings that fit her like they were made for her. "How much? I'll send you the money."
"Forty-five hundred," he replied, a smug air clinging to his words.
Juliette hesitated, utterly confused.
"What, can't afford it?" Christopher grinned at her, all taunt. "All that talk about money, and you can't even pay up?"
Juliette felt her face flame with embarrassment. It was the first time someone she considered beneath her had made her feel this small.
"You've got to be kidding me!" She didn't believe him, so she whipped out her phone and looked it up. Sure enough, they were forty-five hundred bucks.
Could guys like him really throw around this kind of cash?
"If you can't pay, maybe we can work out another arrangement," Christopher joked, giving her waistband a light tug. "I'm quite a fan of that."
Juliette clenched her jaw in frustration, just as a notification popped up on her phone—a refund of a thousand dollars. "Keep it, and buy some cheaper ones. I like tearing those off you," Christopher chuckled.
"You!" Juliette fumed, the word barely out before Christopher's phone rang.
She saw the caller ID: Gunner Bryant!
What on earth was Gunner's connection to Christopher?
Seizing the moment as Christopher took the call, she leaned in to eavesdrop.
Gunner's respectful voice filtered through, "I've had the suspect arrested. Could we meet tonight if you're available...?"
Before Juliette could catch another word, Christopher snagged her. His strong hand tilted her chin up, pulling her face to his. He kissed her deep and demanding, leaving zero room for protest.
"Mm~" Juliette couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her, robbed of breath by the force of his kiss.
As he wrapped her in his embrace, she shoved at his shoulders, desperate to break free.
"No~ stop!"
Over the phone, Gunner seemed to pick up on something. "Hey! Who's that...?" he asked, unease creeping into his voice.
Before he could finish, Christopher ended the call with a sharp click.
In his office, Gunner stared at the blank screen, those soft sounds still echoing in his skull—and they chilled him straight to the bone, because they reminded him way too much of Juliette.
He glanced toward the administration office, but Juliette's desk stayed empty. Ever since she came back, she hadn't shown up to work.
A heavy unease settled over him like a weight as he dialed her number.
"Where are you?" he demanded the instant she picked up, the memory of that arrest still fresh in her mind.
"What do you want?"
"Juliette, are you still pissed at me?" Gunner's voice dropped from its earlier chill to a plea. "I know I was way out of line this morning—total screw-up on my part. The company's going public, and the stress is eating me alive. Sometimes I say crap I don't mean. Please, let's just drop the anger, okay?"
That relentless persistence—it had always been Gunner's go-to move with Juliette, and the one she could never fully resist.
He needed her to link up with Christopher Bryant, that mysterious uncle from the Bryant family—a ghost almost, rarely seen or whispered about in public, his very existence wrapped in shadow. The world only knew his loyal right hand, Everlee Richardson. To claw his way up the social ladder, Gunner had to meet Christopher, and more than that, score his endorsement so he could slide seamlessly into the Bryant bloodline. He was dying for a ticket to the capital's elite circles and access to the city's finest privileges.
Word on the street was Christopher was back to hunt down a woman, though the details were thin—just a partial photo of a slender figure in a simple Victorian-style dress and a red bracelet. Gunner remembered Juliette wearing a bracelet just like that, and he figured it was worth rolling the dice. In his eyes, she was already damaged goods anyway. If he pegged the right woman, success was basically in his pocket.
Steeled with that thought, Gunner's coaxing kicked up a notch. "Sweetheart, don't be mad! I'll get the best lawyer to bust your dad out. Sound good?"
"Worried I won't play along with the Bryant family's elder, Uncle Christopher, tonight?" Juliette saw right through his slimy game.
The file he had handed her that morning painted Christopher as a frail, unbearable old man—ugly and volatile, even if he was her dad's age.
"This is the last time, Juliette! Plus, you bailed on Mr. Dexter last go-round, and my proposal got shot down. I'm literally begging you—turn on the charm for Uncle Christopher this time!"
Gunner's desperation hung thick in the air, and Juliette finally clocked her true worth in his eyes—nothing more than another pawn in his never-ending thirst for power.
