Page 14 of Tempting My Nemesis

She shakes her head slightly, frustration evident in her eyes.

“That’s not trust; that’s blind faith.”

I narrow my eyes at her defiance, struggling to keep the edge out of my voice.

“And yet here you are, standing in front of me because you believed in this partnership.”

Her lips press into a thin line as she searches for a retort but finds none. The air is palpably tense, conflict simmering just below the point of boiling over.

Finally, she exhales softly and takes a step back. “Fine,” she says, voice tinged with resignation. “But don’t expect me to stay in the dark forever.”

I watch her leave, our exchange settling heavily in the room. CipherClash is closing in, and the stakes have never been higher. Letting Zoe into my world could get her killed. And despite everything I've told myself about keeping her at arm's length... the thought of anything happening to her sends a chill down my spine.

I standat the window of my penthouse, watching the city below. The lights stretch endlessly, a sprawling maze of power and chaos. My mind races, formulating strategies to counter CipherClash's potential moves.

The glass is cold against my forehead, my breath fogging the surface. Zoe was meant to appear close to me for the sake of my reputation. But if CipherClash is aiming to bring down anyone tied to me or Steele Ventures, she could be in danger because of me. My fists clench at my sides as I feel the rest of my muscles tighten.

Suddenly, the door bursts open. Zoe rushes in, her face flushed with excitement.

"Caleb! Your strategy is working! We’ve had our first positive return since implementing the changes.”

Before I can react, she throws herself into my arms. The impact nearly knocks me off balance, but I instinctively catch her, my hands settling on her waist. Her body is soft against mine, fitting perfectly into my frame. Her breasts press against my chest, and I feel a surge of desire course through me.

It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me. The scent of her perfume envelops me, intoxicating and dangerous. Her warmth seeps through my clothes, melting away the icy walls I’ve been forced to put up.

"I knew you could do it," I murmur, my voice low and rough.

Zoe pulls back slightly, her eyes meeting mine. There's a spark there, a heat that threatens to consume us both. Her lips part, and I find myself staring, remembering the kiss we shared in front of her apartment complex.

The rational part of my brain screams at me to let go, to put distance between us. But my body refuses to comply. My grip on her waist tightens, pulling her closer.

"Caleb," she whispers, her breath hot against my neck.

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to close the remaining distance between us. "Zoe, we can't?—"

But even as I say the words, I know I'm losing this battle. The lines between fake and real have never been more blurred, and I'm dangerously close to crossing them all.

CHAPTER SIX

ZOE

The chandeliers above me sparkle like stars in the sky, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m a misfit in a fairy tale that isn’t mine to live. The grand ballroom is awash in golden light, casting a soft glow over polished marble floors and ornate decor. I tug at my white gown, hoping no one notices how out of place I feel.

Guests glide by, their laughter and chatter mixing with the delicate clink of champagne glasses. The rustle of expensive fabric fills the air as elegantly dressed people move around me. This isn’t me. I don’t belong here among these people, this opulence.

Caleb leans closer, his presence both comforting and overwhelming. “You look perfect tonight. Just relax,” he murmurs, his voice a low whisper that sends a shiver down my spine.

I force a smile, but my nerves still hum under my skin. “Easy for you to say,” I quip lightly. “You practically own this world.” I feel everyone’s eyes on us, watching, judging.

His gray eyes hold an intensity that’s hard to ignore, but he moves through the crowd with an effortless confidence that Ienvy. How does he do it? How does he make this world seem like it belongs to him?

I smooth my gown again, trying to steady my nerves. They’re watching us. Watching me. My stomach tightens as I catch whispers behind champagne flutes and stolen glances in our direction.

“You’re doing fine,” Caleb says softly, his hand brushing against mine in a fleeting touch that sends a rush of warmth through me despite my anxiety.

“Thank you,” I manage to say, though my voice feels small against the backdrop of wealth and power surrounding us.

Caleb’s hand rests on the small of my back as we move deeper into the room. His touch is steadying, but it also reminds me of why we’re here—of the stakes involved in this charade we’ve created together.

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