Page 168 of The Owner's Temptation

Stillness sharpens around me like a blade being drawn.

“What about her?”

He shifts, clearly nervous. “She’s accepted a soft contract tonight. With another sponsor.”

Everything inside me goes silent.

For a full beat, I say nothing.

“What?”

“She’s… currently having dinner. With Mr. Langston. Sir.”

My blood turns molten.

Of course she is.

I should have seen this coming. That damn gleam in her eyes when I told her we would talk about ending her sponsorship soon.

She fucking planned this the second I told her I wouldn’t be at the luncheon.

Calculating. Fucking. Brat.

Langston should know better. It may not technically break the rules, but every sponsor at The Ledger knew what I’d madevery clear—Sienna Knight is off-limits.

I hold out my hand, palm up. “Keys.”

My driver doesn’t argue. He just tosses them into my hand and wordlessly climbs into the passenger seat, snapping his seatbelt like a man who’s been through this before.

I slide into the driver’s side, already pulling out my phone.

The app opens with a blink.

Her tracker pulses on the screen—bright and fucking defiant.

With a low growl, I punch the gas, tires squealing against pavement, horns blaring as I shoot into traffic like a fucking missile.

She wants to play games?

She just invited the devil to the table.

And I guarantee she won’t like the fucking punishment I’m going to serve her.

* * *

I’m half on the curb when the SUV jerks to a stop outside the restaurant.

“Keep it running,” I bark, slamming the door before the driver can respond.

The maître d’ barely gets a greeting out before I’m brushing past him, scanning the room. It takes no time at all.

Langston’s at the corner table, tucked beneath low-hanging glass chandeliers.

Alone.

He stands as I approach, ever the polite gentleman. “Lucian.”

“Where is she?” I cut him off before the pleasantries even form.

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