The Wolf's Gambit: The Heiress's Revenge

He led her away from the noise, up a stone path lined with lanterns, to the Polo Club terrace. It was empty, save for a private bar and a few leather armchairs overlooking the darkened fields.

He gestured to a chair. "Sit."

Vanessa sat. She folded her hands in her lap to stop them from shaking.

Julian went to the bar. He didn't call a waiter. He poured two glasses of amber liquid from a crystal decanter. He walked over and placed one in front of her.

"Drink."

"I shouldn't," she said. "I'm on medication."

He paused, the glass halfway to his lips. His eyes narrowed. "What medication?"

"Anxiety," she muttered. "Xanax."

He set his glass down. "Then water." He swapped her glass for a bottle of sparkling water.

He sat opposite her, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. The wine stain on his chest was glaring, but he wore it with an arrogance that made it look like a fashion statement.

"Did you take it?" he asked.

Vanessa blinked. "Take what?"

"The Plan B."

The air left the terrace. Vanessa choked on her sip of water. She coughed, her face burning. "Excuse me?"

"I don't leave loose ends, Vanessa," he said. His voice was clinical, detached. "Did you take the pill?"

"Yes," she whispered, humiliated.

"Good." He took a sip of his whiskey. "Now. Explain why you are here to apologize to the man who was screwing my cousin while you were crying in my elevator."

"My uncle..." Vanessa started, then stopped. She couldn't tell him about the money. About her mother. It was too pathetic. "It's complicated."

"It's never complicated. It's leverage," Julian said. "What does he have on you?"

Before she could answer, a loud, braying laugh interrupted them.

Vanessa froze. She knew that laugh.

Caleb and Beatrice stumbled onto the terrace, followed by a small entourage of hangers-on. Caleb was holding a bottle of champagne, his tie undone.

"I'm telling you, she's obsessed with me," Caleb was saying loudly. "She probably tracked my phone here."

He stopped when he saw Vanessa sitting in the chair.

His face twisted into a sneer. "Speak of the devil. Vanessa, what the hell are you doing in the Members Only area? You're embarrassing me."

Beatrice giggled, leaning on his shoulder. "Oh look, she's trying to fit in."

Vanessa stood up, her chair scraping against the stone. "Caleb, I just came to..."

Caleb stepped forward, his hand raising in a gesture that made Vanessa flinch. "Get out. Go back to the servant's quarters or wherever you're staying. You look like a drowned rat."

"That's enough."

The voice came from the shadows of the armchair facing away from them.

Julian stood up.

He unfolded his height slowly, turning to face the group. The effect was instantaneous. The entourage went silent. Caleb's sneer vanished, replaced by a look of sheer terror.

"Julian," Beatrice squeaked. "We didn't know you were here."

Julian ignored her. He looked at Caleb. He looked at him with the kind of boredom a lion might have for a particularly noisy insect.

"Mr. Montgomery," Julian said. "You're interrupting my drink."

"I... I apologize, Mr. Blackwood," Caleb stammered. "I didn't realize... Vanessa was bothering you?"

"Miss Sterling is my guest," Julian said.

The silence that followed was deafening. Caleb looked from Julian to Vanessa, his brain struggling to compute the information.

"Your... guest?" Caleb asked.

"She spilled wine on me," Julian said smoothly. "We were discussing the cleaning bill." He took a step toward Caleb. "And I don't appreciate you raising your voice at her. It ruins the ambiance."

Caleb swallowed hard. "Of course. My apologies. Come on, Bea."

He grabbed Beatrice's arm, pulling her away. But before he turned, he shot Vanessa a look of pure venom. We will talk later, his eyes promised.

When they were gone, Vanessa let out a breath she felt she'd been holding for ten minutes. Her knees gave out, and she sank back into the chair.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Julian watched the empty doorway where they had exited. His jaw was tight.

"Don't thank me," he said, his voice rough. "I just don't like people making noise around my investments."

Vanessa looked up sharply. "Investments?"

Julian looked down at her. For a second, the mask slipped. There was something hot and possessive in his eyes, something that terrified and thrilled her in equal measure.

"Everything is an investment, Vanessa," he corrected, turning away. "Go to your room, Vanessa. Lock the door."

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