Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Levi
The private event at The Sapphire Crest is the perfect blend of exclusivity and power—a place where reputations are forged, and legacies are challenged. The scent of polished wood and aged whiskey lingers in the air, accompanied by the quiet hum of conversation. It’s the kind of room where even the faintest weakness is noticed and exploited.
And that’s why I have Tania by my side.
She walks beside me, poised and composed, her emerald-green dress catching the low light and drawing more than a few stares as we make our way through the room. Tania has always had a quiet kind of confidence, the kind that doesn’t demand attention but inevitably draws it anyway. Tonight, though, I can tell by the stiffness in her posture that she’s less than thrilled to be here.
“This is ridiculous,” she mutters under her breath, keeping her lips in a forced smile as we navigate the crowd. “I can’t believe I let you take me into this.”
“You’re doing great,” I reply, lowering my voice so only she can hear. “Just keep smiling.”
She shoots me a sideways glare. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
I smirk, unable to help myself. “A little.”
She rolls her eyes, but I catch the corner of her lips twitch, almost like she’s fighting a smile. Almost.
We don’t make it far before a familiar voice stops me in my tracks.
“Levi Nichols,” Damon Hardwick drawls, his tone dripping with faux camaraderie. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.”
I turn to face him, already bracing myself for his usual brand of thinly veiled antagonism. Damon stands near the bar, his sharp suit and calculated grin as polished as the scotch swirling in his glass. He’s the type who thrives in rooms like this, where subtle jabs are currency, and power plays are a second language.
“Damon,” I say, forcing a neutral smile as Tania and I approach. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Damon’s gaze shifts to Tania, and his grin widens. “And who is this?”
“Tania Caldwell,” I say smoothly, resting a hand lightly on her lower back. “My fiancée.”
Damon raises an eyebrow, letting out a low chuckle. “Fiancée? Well, now, that’s unexpected.”
“Why’s that?” Tania asks, her tone polite but sharp enough to cut glass.
Damon shrugs, his smile never wavering. “No offense, but Levi’s never struck me as the settling-down type. I mean, his whole life is work. Hard to imagine he’d have time for something as... demanding as a relationship.”
I feel Tania stiffen beside me, and my jaw tightens. Damon knows exactly what he’s doing, and for a moment, I consider simply walking away. But Tania surprises me.
“Well,” she says, her voice smooth and unflinching, “it’s amazing what you can accomplish when you prioritize what matters.”
Damon blinks, caught off guard, and I have to fight the urge to grin. She might not want to be here, but she’s handling him better than I could’ve hoped.
“That’s an impressive ring,” Damon says, recovering quickly as he gestures toward Tania’s hand. “How long have you two been engaged?”
“A few weeks,” I say, cutting in before Tania has to improvise. “We’re keeping things private for now.”
Damon hums, swirling his drink. “Well, congratulations. Though I have to admit, it’s surprising. You’ve always been so singularly focused, Levi. I guess I was wrong.”
The jab is subtle, but it’s there. He’s testing me, searching for cracks in the facade. And I’ll be damned if I let him find one.
“Excuse us,” I say smoothly, placing a hand on Tania’s arm and steering her away from Damon. The eyes of the room follow us as we move, their curiosity practically tangible.
“What was that about?” Tania hisses under her breath, leaning closer as we walk.
“He’s trying to get under my skin,” I reply, scanning the room. “He thinks this is all an act.”
“Well, he’s not wrong,” she mutters, the words like a slap.
I stop abruptly, turning to face her. “Tania, look at me.”
She hesitates but meets my gaze, her expression unreadable.
“We’re going to prove him wrong,” I say firmly. “Right now.”
Her brow furrows in confusion. “What are you?—”
Before she can finish, I slip an arm around her waist and pull her closer, my other hand cupping her cheek. Her eyes widen in shock, and for a split second, I wonder if I’ve pushed too far.
Then I kiss her.
It’s not soft, and it’s not subtle. It’s a statement—both to the room and to Damon. Her hands press against my chest as if to push me away, but instead, her fingers curl into the fabric of my jacket. Her lips part slightly, and for a moment, it feels real. Too real.
When I finally pull back, her cheeks are flushed, her breathing uneven. Her wide eyes lock onto mine, a storm of emotions swirling in them—confusion, frustration, and something else I can’t quite place.
“That was—” she starts, her voice faltering.
“Necessary,” I say, though the word feels hollow. “We had an audience.”
Her gaze flicks over my shoulder, and I know she sees Damon watching us, his expression carefully blank. Around us, the room hums with activity once more, though I can still feel the weight of a dozen curious stares.
“You’re unbelievable,” she mutters, stepping out of my hold. “Next time, maybe warn me before you decide to make a scene.”
“Tania,” I start, but she shakes her head, her expression hardening.
“I’m going to get some air,” she says sharply, turning on her heel and disappearing into the crowd before I can respond.
I let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through my hair. The kiss was impulsive, sure, but it was necessary. Damon needed to be put in his place, and the investors needed to believe the engagement is real.
But as I replay the moment in my mind—the warmth of her lips, the way she melted into me—I can’t help but wonder if I crossed a line I wasn’t ready to face.