"You two looked like a couple of assassins in couture," Zara said, tossing her iPad onto Aurora's desk.
Aurora barely looked up. "That's the vibe I was going for."
She was seated at her office table, fresh from the press conference, lipstick perfect, posture relaxed. But under the surface? Her nerves were tight as piano wires.
Lucas leaned against the doorframe. "The media's eating it up. You and Dominic? Trending everywhere. People think you're dating."
Aurora snorted. "People think every man I glare at is my lover."
"Sure, but this time you weren't glaring," Zara pointed out. "You were... smoldering."
Aurora rolled her eyes. "That was performance."
"Looked like chemistry to me," Lucas said with a grin.
She waved them off, but their words lingered long after they left.
Chemistry?
No. Control.
Dominic Raine was a means to an end. A dangerous, intoxicating, maddening means—but still.
She wouldn't fall for a man who once tried to buy her father's company out from under her, then humiliate her in front of an entire board.
She wouldn't fall at all.
---
Dominic had other problems.
In his tower office, his executive team hovered like anxious bees, unsure of how to navigate the "new alliance."
"What's the real game here?" his right-hand man, Vincent, asked. "You hate her."
Dominic leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
"I never said I hated her."
Vincent blinked. "She stole Spectra Tech."
"She saw an opening. She took it. I would've done the same."
Vincent studied him. "You trust her?"
"I don't need to trust her," Dominic said coolly. "I just need her to succeed. Our merger triples our global reach. Everything else is noise."
"Even the rumors?"
Dominic looked out the window. "Let them think what they want."
But he was lying.
Because every time the media speculated about their "undeniable spark," he thought about the press of her body against his in his penthouse, the curve of her smirk, the challenge in her eyes.
Aurora Lane was in his blood, and he didn't know how to get her out.
---
Two Weeks Later
The annual Global Tech Gala was the biggest event of the year for the business elite, and this year? Lane-Raine Enterprises was the crown jewel.
The media called them "The Merger of the Century."
Aurora called it torture.
"Smile," Dominic murmured beside her as they stepped onto the red carpet. "You're scaring the sponsors."
She turned her head slightly. "Maybe I'm just imagining strangling you in that tie."
His mouth twitched. "You'll have to get a lot closer to manage that."
Flashbulbs exploded around them as they posed together, his hand light on the small of her back. She hated how steady he felt. How good he smelled.
The gala was gold and grandeur—champagne fountains, orchestras, men in tuxedos, and women in silken gowns. Aurora was the goddess of the night, dressed in a deep emerald number that hugged every curve and dipped dangerously low in the back.
Dominic didn't look once.
He looked twenty times, and each time was longer than the last.
"I see you finally learned how to dress without looking like an assassin," she said, glancing at his tailored navy tux.
"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied, offering her a glass of champagne.
"I don't drink when I'm on enemy territory."
"We're not enemies," he said, too close, too soft.
She sipped anyway, just to prove he couldn't get under her skin.
She was wrong.
---
The gala turned from glamorous to chaotic in seconds.
Just as Dominic stepped away to take a call, a group of press cornered Aurora near the balcony, cameras rolling.
"Aurora! Is it true you and Mr. Raine are more than just business partners?"
"Are you dating?"
"Sources say you stayed at his penthouse—"
She was about to shut them down with her usual ice when a familiar voice cut in:
"Gentlemen, if you have questions about my partner, you come to me."
Dominic's voice was steel.
He walked straight to her, placed a hand around her waist—and then did something no one expected.
He kissed her.
It wasn't a soft brush of lips.
It was a full, possessive, slow-burn kiss that had the crowd gasping, flashes exploding like fireworks.
Aurora stiffened—then melted, just for a second.
Just long enough to feel everything she shouldn't: warmth, hunger, danger.
When he pulled away, his eyes searched hers.
She slapped him.
The echo rang louder than the music.
The crowd went silent.
Dominic didn't flinch.
Aurora leaned in, eyes like fire. "Next time you want to make a statement, use your words. Not your tongue."
And she walked out.
---
He didn't follow her.
But he wanted to.
Damn her for tasting like citrus and defiance.
---
Back in her penthouse, Aurora paced like a lioness.
What the hell had that been?
A performance?
A power move?
Or something much worse?
Something real?
She touched her lips.
They were still burning.
And for the first time since this war began, Aurora wasn't sure who was really winning anymore.
---