Chapter 17: Double Game
449words
I remained calm, seated on the couch. "He won't recognize me. And this is our fastest route to information."
"He tried to kill you once!"
"Which is why I'll be careful." I stood, catching his arm to stop his pacing. "Jack, I need you to trust me. I'm not the same woman he pushed off that ship."
Our eyes locked in silent battle. Finally, Jack exhaled sharply. "Fine. But we take precautions. Tracking device, emergency signal, the works."
The restaurant Michael chose was exclusive and intimate. When I arrived, he was already waiting, no wedding ring in sight.
"You came alone," he noted, pleased. "I was afraid your husband might insist on joining us."
"Jack and I have an understanding," I replied ambiguously, accepting the wine he ordered.
Throughout lunch, Michael alternated between business discussion and increasingly bold flirtation. I played my role perfectly—interested but not too eager, professional yet approachable.
"You know," Michael said, leaning closer, "you remind me of someone."
My heart stuttered. "Oh?"
"There's something in your eyes. A certain… intensity."
I forced a laugh. "I've been told I'm rather focused."
"It's more than that." His gaze was uncomfortably penetrating. "Almost like you're looking right through me."
Redirecting, I asked about Williams Corporation's future. Michael launched into his vision, revealing more than he intended about financial maneuvers and board politics.
"The old man never saw it coming," he said smugly. "Just like his daughter never suspected a thing."
"His daughter?" I prompted, keeping my voice casual.
Michael's expression darkened. "A tragic story. Married her for her family connections, endured five tedious years, then—unfortunate accident at sea."
"How convenient," I remarked, watching him carefully.
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes before his mask of charm returned. "Life is full of unexpected turns."
When his hand covered mine, I didn't pull away. Every instinct screamed to recoil, but I smiled instead.
"Perhaps we could continue this conversation somewhere more private next time," he suggested.
"Perhaps," I agreed, my smile never reaching my eyes.
Later, recounting the meeting to Jack, I omitted Michael's advances, focusing instead on the business intelligence gathered. But Jack knew me too well.
"What aren't you telling me?" he demanded.
"Nothing important."
"Zoe." His voice softened. "We're partners in this. No secrets."
I hesitated, then admitted, "He wants to see me again. Privately."
Jack's expression hardened. "And you're considering it."
It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "If it gets us what we need—"
"At what cost?" he interrupted, something raw in his voice. "Where do you draw the line?"
The question hung between us, unanswerable.
