Clara felt every eye in the room burning into her skin. Her face felt hot, and her heart slammed against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She tried to step back, but Lucian’s grip on her wrist was firm. His skin was warm against her cold skin, holding her in place without hurting her.
"Clara?" Victor gasped from the floor, his face pale as paper. "You dirty little brat! You were hiding in this club as a waitress?"
Victor scrambled to his feet, wiping champagne off his jacket. His eyes burned with pure malice as he pointed a trembling finger at her face. "Lucian, call the police right now! This girl stole millions from my company before she ran away. She belongs behind bars!"
Lucian did not even turn his head to look at Victor. He kept his dark eyes locked on Clara's face, staring at her soft lips and her wide, frightened eyes. His thumbs brushed gently over the soft skin of her wrist, sending a strange, electric shiver straight up her arm.
"Jax, throw Victor out," Lucian said, his voice flat and cold. "If he opens his mouth again, break his jaw."
Jax stepped forward like a giant shadow. Before Victor could even protest, Jax grabbed the back of Victor's expensive collar, lifting the older man almost off his feet.
"Wait! Lucian, we have a deal! You need my signature!" Victor yelled, flailing his arms like a panicked clown as Jax dragged him toward the exit doors.
"The deal is over, Victor," Lucian called out coldly. "Get out of my club."
Jax shoved Victor out into the public hallway, slamming the heavy doors shut. The loud crash echoed through the room. Clara felt a sudden wave of sweet satisfaction wash over her.
Seeing her cruel stepfather thrown out like trash made her want to smile, but the danger was far from over. She was still trapped in a room with three dangerous men.
Lucian did not wait for her to speak. He pulled her by the arm, guiding her out of the VIP suite and straight toward a private executive elevator in the back hallway. Jax and Silas followed right behind them, their long strides heavy and silent.
The elevator doors opened into a massive, top floor penthouse office. Gold lights shined down on expensive black marble floors, heavy leather chairs, and a giant glass desk that overlooked the city skyline.
Lucian let go of her wrist and walked over to his desk, picking up a clean towel to wipe the spilled champagne from his hands. Clara stood in the center of the room, her small hands tightly holding the edges of her short black dress.
Silas walked past her, his soft dress shoes making no sound. He reached the heavy double doors of the office, turned a brass key in the lock, and slid the bolt shut. The sharp click made Clara’s stomach drop.
"Why did you lock the door?" Clara asked, her voice shaking slightly as she looked back at Silas. "Let me go. I have work to finish downstairs."
Silas chuckled, a smooth and playful sound. He leaned his hip against the edge of the glass desk, looking at her with clever, bright eyes. "You are not going back downstairs, Clara. In fact, your night as a club waitress is completely over."
"What are you talking about?" Clara demanded, trying to sound brave, though her pulse was racing fast.
Lucian tossed the towel aside and leaned back against his leather chair. He picked up a thick white folder and tossed it across the glass desk. The paper slid across the smooth surface, stopping right in front of her.
"Open it," Lucian commanded.
Clara hesitated, then stepped forward. Her fingers trembled as she opened the folder. Inside were white papers stamped with official red seals. Her eyes scanned the text, and her jaw dropped in shock.
"This... this is a loan agreement for fifty million dollars," Clara whispered, reading the lines carefully. "Between the Vane firm and Vance Holdings."
"Look at the bottom line," Silas said softly, pointing a finger at the signature area.
Clara looked down. Right on the line reserved for the main owner, her own name was written in dark blue ink. Clara Vance. It looked just like her handwriting, but she had never seen these papers in her life.
"That is a fake!" Clara cried out, her chest heaving as anger flared inside her. "I never signed this! I have been hiding in a tiny rented room for a year. I do not have fifty million dollars! Victor forged my name to get your money!"
"We know he forged it," Lucian said calmly, standing up from his chair. He walked around the glass desk, his slow steps full of heavy power. "Victor brought those papers to us three days ago. He thought he was smart. He thought he could use a fake signature of a missing girl to steal fifty million dollars from our firm."
Jax leaned his broad shoulder against a wall, his deep voice filling the room. "The law does not care if you knew about it or not, sweet cheeks. Your name is on the bank fraud paper. Victor is telling everyone you signed it before you disappeared."
"If we hand these papers over to the police tonight," Silas added with a sly smile, "you will be arrested for bank fraud before sunrise. A fake signature on a fifty million dollar loan means twenty years in a maximum security prison."
Clara felt the room spin around her. Her knees buckled, and she fell back into a leather chair behind her. Her mind raced. She had worked so hard to escape her stepfather, sleeping on cold floors, working double shifts, hiding her face under a mask. Now, Victor had set a trap that could ruin her entire youth.
"That is not fair," Clara whispered, moisture stinging her eyes as she looked up at Lucian. "He destroyed my mother. He took everything from us. Now he wants me to rot in prison for his crime?"
Lucian stopped right beside her chair. The heat radiating off his body was intense, making the tiny hairs on her arms stand up. He reached down, his strong fingers taking her chin and lifting her face so she had to look into his dark, piercing eyes. His thumb gently traced her bottom lip, making her breath catch in her throat.
"Life is never fair, Clara," Lucian said softly, his voice dropping into a low, husky tone that sent a strange warmth pooling deep in her belly. "Victor is a dead man walking. We are going to take everything he stole from your family, and we are going to break him into pieces. But we need you to do it."
Silas stepped forward and slid a brand new, heavy paper across the desk, right on top of the fraud files.
"This is not a police report," Silas said softly. "This is an exclusive cohabitation and personal service agreement."
Clara blinked, looking down at the heavy black letters printed at the top. "A... cohabitation contract?"
"It means you come with us," Jax growled softly from the back of the room, his eyes dark and possessive as he watched her. "You leave that trashy apartment. You move into our private estate. You stay where we can see you, eat where we eat, and live under our rules."
"Why would you want me to live with you?" Clara asked, her voice barely a whisper as her heart pounded hard against her ribs.
Lucian bent down, bringing his handsome face so close to hers that his lips almost brushed against her cheek. His warm breath hit her ear, making her shudder with a mixture of fear and sudden, intoxicating heat.
"Because you belong to us now, Clara," Lucian whispered, his low voice sending a wave of electric shivers down her spine. "So here is your deal. You have two choices tonight.
You can spend the night in a cold, filthy prison cell for fraud, or you can sign yourself over to the living quarters of the three Vane brothers for the next ninety days."