~Logan Pov~

The door banged open, and there she was.

Emily Ross.

She blew in like a hurricane, her eyes flashing with indignation, her breast heaving with suppressed outrage. Every jerky movement, every breath spoke of indignation. It was almost comical how much fury she could pack into her small frame.

I leaned back in my chair, steepling my fingers as I watched her. She didn't speak right away, no doubt trying to find the right words to eviscerate me. Her fury filled the room like a storm cloud, and I was fully entertained.

She wanted to kill me. That much was obvious.

"Are you done?" I asked, my head cocking slightly to the side in feigned disinterest, my voice even, composed.

"Done?" she snapped, her tone cutting through the air. "Are you out of your mind? How dare you humiliate me like that in front of your whole team? Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to get here?"

I raised an eyebrow at her fire every bit as arresting as I remembered. Most people quailed under my gaze, hesitated, spoke with care, weighing each word, not wanting to offend me.

Not so with Emily. No, Emily Ross wore her defiance like armor and spoke her words with reckless abandon.

Her feisty disposition hadn't changed a whit since that night at the gala. If anything, she'd grown more brazen.

I did not know at the time that she owned Ross Designs when her company came recommended to us for our projects.

Her name had been in a long list of small firms, most forgettable until hers jumped out at me. As soon as I read her name, a flicker of curiosity warmed.

Emily Ross.

The feisty woman I'd encountered at the gala.

The same woman I hadn't been able to forget since then.

I hadn't expected much, but when she presented her work, I was impressed. She had vision, creativity, and a passion that couldn't be denied. But facts were facts: her company was small, barely capable of delivering on the scale Blaze required. I hadn't lied to her about that.

But still, I couldn't help playing her against the wall. She was an interesting thing, and I wasn't ready to let her go quite so easily.

"You humiliated yourself," I told her, my voice even, cutting through her ire. "You did your homework, you know this industry's competitive. No small player in the game does well unless it takes risks."

Her jaw clenched tight; her hands curled into fists at her thighs. "I am not some small player—"

I waved one hand and shut her right up. "Sit."

She hesitated, and her whole frame vibrated with defiance. A moment, and I thought I saw her flinch at a straight refusal. Then she sat down sharply, stiff against the back of her seat.

"First, let this be understood, Miss Ross," my voice as sharp as a rasp of ice,

"Talent isn't enough in this business, what's required is power, connections, and the willingness to undertake burdens that would daunt most persons. Did you have that?"

She narrowed her eyes, lips pressing into a thin line. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Her words were brazen, didn't falter, and I let the silence dangle before I leaned forward, elbows on the desk.

"Good," I said, allowing a smirk to pucker at my lips. "Then prove it."

Suspicion flashed over her face. "What are you talking about?"

I leaned back in my chair and allowed my smile to expand another degree. "I've got a proposition for you. It's high-risk, not something to be taken lightly. You win, and your company will not only know about expansion but the result will most assuredly raise it to an entirely new plateau.

If you lose…" I let that hang there for a beat while I gauged the look on her face.

Emily's fingers gripped the armrests of her chair until her knuckles were white. "What kind of proposition?"

I slid a thick folder across the desk, and she picked it up hesitantly. She opened it and began to leaf through its pages. The further she went, the more twisted her expression. Disbelieving, frustrated, angry—.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, her voice shaking with anger barely contained. Her gaze snapped back to mine. "You expect me to take on this? You realize how dangerous this is?"

"Of course," I said, nonchalant. "That's the point."

Her hands were shaking ever so slightly as she closed the folder with a snap. "Ambitious isn't the word, it's insane! Why on earth would you suggest such a thing?"

Because I think you probably can do this, I said, shrugging. "Or, maybe, not. Either way, we're going to find out damned soon enough, anyway."

She slammed the folder shut, the sharp, staccato clap like a curt retort ringing in the quiet little room.

"This is insane. I came out here for an honest deal, not—

"A real opportunity, that's what I'm offering you," I cut her off. "You said you wanted to prove yourself. Here's your chance."

Her chest rose and fell rapidly with frustration building in her to a fever pitch. "And if I say no?"

"Then you can walk out of here right now," I said, keeping my tone iced. "But don't expect to come back. This deal and the one you came here for will be off the table permanently."

I could see the battle playing out in her eyes, the pride urging her to storm out and ambition demanding she stay.

She finally blew out a harsh breath and opened the folder again, her eyes scanning the details more closely. "This could destroy my company," she muttered.

“Or it could elevate it,” I countered, leaning back.

Her gaze flashed to mine, her eyes narrowing. "What's the catch?"

"Secrecy," I said. "This project stays between you, your team, and Blaze Enterprises. No outsiders. No leaks. If the details get out, you'll be held responsible. Do you understand?"

She stared at me, outraged and shocked. "You're asking me to risk everything I've built—"

"Yes," I cut in, silky.

Her lips snapped shut, and she gave me a long look before she took the folder back to reexamine the contract. She was burning with intent as she read.

"You don't trust me, do you?" I asked, not being able to keep the amusement from my voice.

She snorted and did not look up. "Would you?"

"Fair point."

She dropped the folder after almost an hour, snatched up the pen, hovered over the dotted line for a moment, and then signed her name with a flourish.

"There," she said, tossing the pen onto the desk. "Happy now?"

"Delighted," I said, letting a real smile spread across my face.

I held out my hand, and after a moment's hesitation, she took it. Her handshake was firm, her palm warm against mine.

"Good luck with this, Miss Ross," I whispered, liking very much the little purse of irritation that mouth went into.

She pulled her hand back, wariness flooding back over her face. "I'm not moving into your office," she said flatly. "I work remotely unless necessary."

"As you wish," I said, trying to keep the amusement from my voice. "But don't forget—you're going to see a lot of me no matter what."

She didn't answer, pivoting on a heel to stalk for the door. I watched her go, my eyes sticking to the curve of her hips, the swagger in her walk.

As the door closed behind her, my smile fell away to reveal something darker, more primal in its place.

Let the games begin.