Chapter 7
The Hunter
I glide into the restaurant, a cathedral draped in velvet and decadence, the perfect stage for a night of carefully orchestrated moves. The chandeliers cast halos of light, but it’s the shadows that speak to me—those empty spaces where lies are born and truth festers. I move through it like a predator in silk, ready for the hunt.
After handing my coat off to the coat-check woman, I ask for what I assume to be a reservation under Knight.
“Are you Mr. Grant?” the hostess asks, batting her eyelashes at me as she not-so subtly lets her eyes wander from mine and down my chest.
“I am,” I confirm as her gaze keeps dipping lower.
“Right this way.”
She places a hand on my elbow, steering me toward the table. A crooked finger beckons, her exaggerated sway offering more than directions. The woman is beautiful, no doubt about it. But it takes much more than beauty to ensnare me. And luckily for her, she doesn’t have anything I want.
As we walk to the table in a secluded corner, I take in the other guests. Most of them are in groups, but there are the odd couple dining alone. At the bar, there are a few singles.
How can I tell? The women are seated on the stools while the men lean against the bar. They’re all aware of each other, but the dance of approaching subtly is so choreographed that even the smallest movement counts.
These men think they’re hunting—a wife, a girlfriend, a fleeting conquest. But their prey is already caged, and the irony isn’t lost on me. It’s not a hunt; at least not a worthy one.
“Here we go,” the woman says, pointing at the empty chair at the table. “I’ll give you guys a few minutes to look through the menu.”
Nicklas’ broad back faces me, and beside him is Carolina. My gaze is drawn to Ruby; her raven hair falls in waves, draped over one shoulder, exposing the curve of her neck. The faintest flush of pink blossoms against her pale skin.
She’s still wearing the outfit she wore at the meeting, and it suits her to wear something edgier than pantsuits and whatever else she’s worn in my classroom.
Her eyes are calculating behind a mask of calm. She doesn’t know I’ve already begun dissecting her, reading the flickers of hesitation she can’t quite conceal. She’s too composed, too perfect. And that’s where the cracks begin.
“Good evening,” I announce. They turn, and I catch the flicker of surprise in Ruby’s guarded emerald eyes before she schools her expression into neutrality. I don’t know why she’s surprised, I said I’d join them and I keep my word.
“Valentine, you made it,” Nicklas says, offering a firm handshake.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I reply with practiced ease, sharing a nod with Carolina, whose lips quirk up in a polite smile.
I slide into the seat beside Ruby, my fingers grazing her thigh, featherlight but deliberate. It’s a brief, charged contact, enough to test her composure. She doesn’t pull away, but the faintest tightening of her lips, the pink creeping up her neck, gives her away. The crack in her armor is almost imperceptible, but it’s there—and I savor it.
“Ruby, always a pleasure,” I murmur, close enough that only she can hear the underlying current of my words. There’s a storm brewing in her eyes, a tempest of emotions she fights to keep hidden. But I see them all— the fear, the curiosity, the desperate longing for something more than the gilded cage she’s trapped in.
“Valentine,” she replies, her voice betraying none of the chaos I sense within her.
A waiter appears, a young guy that avoids eye contact with both Nicklas and Carolina at all costs. “W-would you like more wine?” he asks, his tone cracking.
I look at Nicklas and arch an eyebrow. He shrugs and puts his hand on top of his wife’s. “The guy touched her,” he growls, shooting daggers at the kid.
Carolina sighs. “It wasn’t like that. All he did was accidentally brush my—”
“As I said, he touched you.”
I chuckle and look at the poor guy, who can’t be more than twenty-one. “I think we’re fine for now.”
He smiles at me and offers to fill up my glass, which I allow him to do. It’s a small thing, but it’s putting him at ease around me. Skittish people can often sense if there’s a threat nearby, and I don’t need him to be alert. Let him think that Nicklas is the biggest and meanest predator at the table.
The conversation drifts like smoke, wafting toward the charity project that’s Carolina’s pet cause. I lean back, swirling the wine in my glass as I listen to her outline plans with more passion than precision. It’s the perfect opening.
“Strategic planning is everything,” I say, letting my words stretch like silk. “At Holloway University, we’ve mastered community engagement.” My gaze drifts, locking with Ruby’s for a brief moment before she looks away—her retreat is small but telling.
“Really? Tell us more,” Carolina urges, leaning in.
“A personal touch is important,” I stress, recounting tales of galas and auctions that drew in the elite with their wallets wide open. “It’s about creating an experience that resonates, something memorable.”
Nicklas nods, his dark eyes calculating as he digests my words. His focus is intense, but I’m not here to play with him. Well, not really. Though I suppose by playing with his sister, I’m playing him as well. Hmm .
“Carolina, your vision could be revolutionary with the right execution,” I say, my attention deliberately on her. I want to see Ruby step into the light, to claim her place as more than an outsider.
“You really think so?” she asks, happiness coating every word. “This project is a dream for me. It’s, ahh, as personal as it can get. So I want to make sure I get it right.”
“You will, Hellcat,” Nicklas murmurs, lifting her hand so he can kiss the palm. “You don’t know how to fail.”
Seeing the powerful Knight being brought to his knees and doing something as simple as reassuring his wife is intriguing. Unlike many men in his position, he’s genuine and the love he feels for Carolina is so potent it’s almost suffocating.
“What do you think, Ruby?” Carolina asks, looking straight at her sister-in-law. “Do you have any ideas?”
I move one hand under the table and ball it into a fist to stop myself from snapping at the blonde. But really, now she’s ruined my experiment by calling Ruby out directly.
“Hmm,” Ruby muses. “I think Valentine is right. We should make sure to keep it personal. This is for Willow, and her story is a great one. Maybe we can do fundraisers inspired by something she loved doing.”
Carolina nods thoughtfully. “Like… maybe a haunted house or something.”
Ruby bursts out laughing. “Why am I not surprised she loved those?”
While the women talk more about this idea, I silently consider the timeline. Haunted houses are traditionally centered around Halloween, which is over ten months away. Unless I break my contract with Michael, Ruby won’t even live to see March, much less October. Nonetheless, there’s no harm in letting the women go ahead with their planning.
I’m just about to suggest they talk with a company we’ve used at Holloway when the waiter returns, his voice is a soft intrusion into the gauzy haze of my strategy. “Are you ready to order?” he asks, clutching a black tablet in his hand.
Nic klas swiftly orders for himself and Carolina, but instead of turning to Ruby, the waiter looks expectantly at me. I shake my head discreetly. “Ladies first,” I say. This gives me a couple of minutes to look at the menu I haven’t even opened until now.
“I think I’ll have the lamb,” Ruby says, her eyes bright.
I chuckle at her food order. “Ah, the lamb. Poor creature—raised only to be slaughtered, isn’t it? I’ve always found it… unsettling,” I say casually.
Ruby hesitates, a flash of discomfort in her eyes. “I couldn’t possibly now,” she says, her decision folding neatly into my hand. “Can I have the lobster instead?”
I move my hand to her thigh, brushing it again. She turns her head toward me, and I know she’s aware it isn’t an accident this time since my touch is lingering. I wish I knew if she’s accepting because Michael has ordered her to be, or if she… ah, never mind. The hitching of her breath tells me all I need to know.
She’s indeed welcoming my hand on her.
The waiter nods, and I’m still chuckling as I order the steak, bloody, just like Nicklas.
I hide my satisfaction at how easily Ruby caved behind a sip of wine, feeling the weight of her brother’s gaze on me. He watches, hawk-like, protective instincts for Ruby no doubt flaring.
The power he wields within the Knight family is palpable, even seated here in this cocoon of opulence and decadent aromas wafting from the kitchen.
“So, is that what you’re teaching my sister at Holloway University?” Nicklas asks, his voice gruff. “About sacrificial lambs?”
The corners of my lips twitch, and I remove my hand from her leg, folding both on the table so he can see them. “I’m afraid it’s part of a very substantial occupational hazard.” I grin. “I do teach criminology after all.”
While that makes Carolina laugh, he holds my gaze for a moment too long. I know he’s assessing me, so I make sure to avert my gaze first.
“Don’t,” Ruby says all of a sudden, her eyes locked on her brother.
“Don’t what?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “Whatever you’re thinking, just… don’t.”
While the siblings have what looks like a silent conversation with their eyes, I look at Carolina, who just shakes her head. “Criminology sounds very interesting,” she observes. “How often do you teach?”
I go on to explain that the course is daily. “It’s a very intense course. Most of the students are accepted based on previous courses or work experience.” I make sure to emphasize that admittance to my class is no small feat.
“Really?” Carolina says. “I didn’t know you had any real education or work experience, Ruby.”
When the woman next to me scoffs, I get the urge to defend her place in my class. But I keep my mouth closed, determined to see Ruby answer for herself. “Yeah, well… there’s a lot you don’t know,” she volleys.
Carolina shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m merely curious.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “But hey, if you’re already spending a lot of time with Valentine, it makes sense that the two of you plan the fundraising aspect of the Willow Project together.”
“That’s a great idea,” Nicklas chimes in. His tone makes it clear he wants to smooth the waters.
I look down at the diamond on Ruby’s left hand. “Do you have the time?” I ask, pointing at the diamond. “I’d hate to take too much time away from your husband.”
“I have the time,” she confirms. “And I’d love to be part of organizing the fundraising and events—”
“Michael understands the importance of the work I do. He wouldn’t interfere,” Nicklas says as he interrupts his sister.
As the food arrives, I lean back and spread my legs, making sure to push one against Ruby. Her breath hitches again and I notice her eyes widening out of the corner of my eye. I press harder and just as I think I’ve gotten all the reactions she’s going to give, I feel a slight pressure against mine.
Hiding my smirk, I slide my fork through the tender flesh of the steak, lifting it to my lips as I maintain a polite gaze on Carolina. Her laughter fills the air, light and carefree, but I catch the slight furrow in her brow when I drop an offhand remark about the unpredictability of invest ors.
“You can never be too careful when working with investors,” I murmur, the words hanging between us like a veiled threat. Looking at Nicklas, I add, “You need to make sure you have contracts in place to keep people from changing their minds later on.”
“God, yes,” she agrees, but I see the uncertainty flash in her eyes.
Since Nicklas has already suggested I spend more time with Ruby, there’s no point in sowing these seeds apart from… I want to see what happens.
“You think anyone is going to be stupid enough to risk angering me?” he challenges.
“Forgive me,” I laugh as I take another bite of my food. He doesn’t look away while I chew and swallow. “Another occupational hazard, I’m afraid.”
“Nick,” Carolina scolds, lightly swatting his arm.
He finally smiles. “I’m just kidding,” he grins. “Well, kind of.”
I hear the warning in his words, and I know I need to dial it in. It won’t do any good to have a man like him looking too closely at me.
“Contracts are a great idea,” Ruby says, daintily wiping her mouth with the cloth napkin. “It’ll show people that we’re not taking it lightly. Why risk relying solely on our… err, your family name when we can show them right away how serious we are?”
There we go; there’s the Ruby Simmons I was hoping to coax out. The one with an opinion. Seeing her square her shoulders and lift her chin is enough to make my cock twitch.
We finish off our food, and as soon as the last bite has disappeared, three waiters materialize to carry the plates away. The only one who takes them up on the offer of dessert is Carolina, who asks for the molten lava chocolate cake to go.
While the married couple engage in a private conversation, I turn to Ruby. “This project is Willow’s legacy, right?”
“I guess you can call it that,” she confirms.
“Tell me,” I say, my voice low and intimate, “have you thought about your legacy, Ruby? The mark you’ll leave when this fleeting world moves on without you?”
Her glass pauses mid-air, that fortress of hers bristling at the siege. Her composure falters, just for a second. It’s almost imperceptible, but in that instant, I see the doubt flicker in her eyes. The question has unsettled her, nudged her toward the edge of her carefully constructed persona.
She recovers quickly, but not fast enough. “I’m more concerned with the present,” she replies, her voice smooth but with an edge of defensiveness. “A legacy is for people with something to prove.”
I smile, the predator in me sharpening its claws. “Or something to lose.”
Again, I move my hand under the table. Only this time, I don’t just graze her thigh, I circle the top part, dangerously close to her core. She arches an eyebrow, and just as I’m about to give up on getting more from her, she licks her lips and parts her legs more.
The silence between us stretches, thick with unspoken implications. Nicklas and Carolina continue their idle chatter, unaware of the tension coiling tighter between Ruby and me. She knows I’m watching her closely now, waiting for the next crack to appear.
“I’d like to believe I have nothing to lose,” she finally says, her voice soft but resolute. A bold statement. But it’s a lie.
“And yet,” I murmur, my fingers lightly tracing her inner thigh under the table, “everyone does.”
With an inaudible gasp, she places her hand on top of mine. But she doesn’t stop me, it’s like she wants it along for the ride. Her hand is warm, her pulse quickening ever so slightly.
She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she lets the contact linger, as if testing her own boundaries while wrestling with the temptation to retreat, to reassert control, but there’s something holding her in place. Curiosity, perhaps. Or the thrill of standing at the edge of something unknown.
“Okay, I’ll play.” Her eyes, pools of molten emerald, flicker with an uncertain flame as she meets my stare. She shifts in her seat, and adds pressure onto my hand, guiding it to her heat. “I believe we all strive to leave something behind,” she answers, her controlled tone betraying the slightest tremor.
“ Ah, but what?” I press, leaning slightly closer, invading her space with the mere suggestion of intimacy. “Is it merely our actions, or perhaps something more?” With each word, I harden my touch, making sure she feels it through the barrier of her clothes.
She sets her glass down. “You speak as if there is something beyond the tangible,” she says, skepticism lacing her words.
“Indeed,” I murmur, my voice a velvet shroud, wrapping around her doubt. “Desire, for example. It drives us, molds us into creatures of ambition, or lust, or power.”
I cup her sex the best I can. She raises her hips, rubbing against me.
“It can be a dangerous thing, unchecked desire,” I rasp, pitching my voice so low only she can hear me.
Ruby rubs herself harder against my hand. Her eyes are dark with desire, and she’s biting into her bottom lip. She swallows, her throat working delicately against the collar of her sweater. “And you?” she asks, her words a whisper of silk against the tension. “What does your desire lead you toward?”
Gripping my knee, she digs her fingers into me as her pace quickens along with her breathing. Her cheeks are flushed, but I don’t think it’s from embarrassment. No, it’s desire. I press my thumb to her clit, helping her stimulate it.
“Darkness,” I confess, my admission a caress of smoke in the charged air. “A depth so vast, Ruby, that some may find it… consuming.”
A small moan falls from her lips, the sound barely audible over the soft jazz serenading the restaurant. She continues to ride my hand as her legs begin to tremble, but she doesn’t orgasm, at least I’m pretty sure she doesn’t.
Ruby shifts beside me, her body language betraying her frustration. Her lips part, a breath away from speaking, but the words die there.
“Valentine,” Nicklas interjects, his tone pulling us from the brink of our private abyss. “We should discuss further details of the charity project later this week.”
“Of course,” I answer, tearing my gaze from Ruby with deliberate slowness. My smile, a predator’s grin, is all charm and hidden daggers. “I look forward to it.”
“ Oh, you know, I don’t think I have your number,” Carolina interjects. “Do you mind? It would make it easier if I need to get a hold of you.”
Biting back a smile, I agree and list off the numbers. While I note down Carolina’s number, I encourage Ruby to save mine as well. “You never know if you’ll need it.”
She gives me a bemused smile, but saves it before giving me hers.
When Carolina’s chocolate cake arrives in a fancy box, Nicklas smoothly asks for the meal to be put on his tab. I try to offer to pay for my share, but he won’t hear of it so I quickly let it go.
Together, we head to the coat-checker area, and after we all get our outerwear, farewells are exchanged. I shake Nicklas’ hand, kiss Carolina’s cheek. Then I turn to Ruby, wondering if I’m the only one who sees the hope written all over her face. I lean in, pretending I’m going to kiss her cheek as well, but instead I turn my head and whisper, “Goodnight, Ruby.”
The city hums beneath my feet, its pulse quickening in time with mine. I walk through the night, but my mind is still wrapped around Ruby. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s already part of me, woven into this game. And soon, very soon, I’ll pull the strings that make her unravel.