Nunew accidentally crashes CEO Zee Pruk Panich's car when working as a valet. He expects Zee to make him pay back the cost of damages but the young businessman has another arrangement in mind.
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"More champagne, sir?"
My eyes lifted to the stewardess as she stood next to where I sat. A polite smile pulled at her pink lips as her friendly gaze stayed on me, waiting patiently. I glanced at the bar cart in front of her, watching the bubbles of champagne floating up the neck of the opened bottle. It was a prestige cuvée, bought and imported from a foreign vineyard. Perfect for the occasion.
A bead of sweat formed at the lip of the nearly full bottle, pearling until it was ready to burst before sliding slowly down the side. I felt my jaw clench, though, I held my features in check as I reached for my near empty flute. Lifting the glass to my lips, I took a shallow sip before turning my gaze towards the seat next to me. Pressing my lips together, I propped my elbow on the divider that separated me from the body next to mine. I leaned over, letting my chin rest against the back of my hand as I held my flute out.
The narrow glass caught a ray of sun as the light began to seep through the small window next to us. It sparkled, creating an array of flickering golden light along the interior of the private cabin.
The corners of my lips twisted up as I breathed in, savoring notes of fresh blooms, so innocent yet dripping with the sinful heat of a humid rain; he was drenched in it, really.
My smirk grew as my gaze lifted, meeting the burning chestnut hue of Nunew's stare as I asked, "What do you think, darling? Should we have another glass?"
A trembling glare was his only response.
I grinned.
—————
- Three days earlier -
I sighed as I leaned back against the bound leather of my desk chair, letting myself relax into the cushions as I rose my hands to rest behind my neck. I pressed against the strained muscles as I turned my head side-to-side, wincing as each knot ached under the pressure of my movements.
Work had been difficult over the last year. My business partners still teetered on the edge of losing their trust in me. They hung on by a thin thread, persuaded to uphold our contracts on the sole basis of the longstanding history we had working together. I knew one small lapse in judgment could crumble what little trust remained between us, especially considering the losses most had suffered when my father's companies had been liquidated. Most had pulled out the moment news broke that his businesses were tied to illegal accounts. Some disappeared entirely, destroyed by the allegations looming around their parent company. Money was lost, livelihoods ruined, small businesses run to the ground—and it was me who they blamed.
I knew the risk I had taken when I finally took down my father. I knew what it meant when I told my secretary to send emails to every news outlet detailing what I'd found out from my mother. Scandals sparked like wildfires. With just a rumor, my father's demise had been quick. Even with his ties to the law, the police commissioner couldn't ignore the public's outcry for justice. My father's throne had been dismantled, scattered to the wind as his power began to fall. The satisfaction I'd felt when seeing him escorted to the courthouse—surrounded by cameras, each documenting the handcuffs around his wrists, the obvious scruff on his face, the look of fury shadowing the lines of eyes—was enough to put me at ease.
