Page 63 of Gambit
“Sounds like a tall order,” Rafe says, but his tone has shifted. It’s less of an interrogation now, more like a veteran acknowledging a rookie’s potential.
“Only the tallest,” she acknowledges with a small, confident smile. “I don’t aim low, Mr Carver.”
Eliza stands her ground as he stares at her, but there’s a fire in those eyes of hers that tells me she’s not just playing defence. She’s here to claim ground. I watch, my chest swelling with pride, as she parries each of Rafe’s verbal jabs like a seasoned pro.
“Tell me about this new operation,” Rafe leans in, his voice all gravel and no-nonsense. “The legitimate front is admirable, but what about the shadows? The parts that don’t make it into the metaphorical papers?”
Eliza doesn’t flinch. “We value discretion above all. Our less public endeavours are structured to support and protect our interests.”
“Discretion,” Rafe repeats, testing the word like it’s a fine wine. He nods, assessing her cool composure. “And how do you deal with betrayal within your ranks?”
“Swiftly and without mercy,” she states, her tone firm but even. It sends a bolt of lust shooting through me. That’s my girl, unflinching in the face of the hardest questions.
“Cutthroat,” he comments, but there’s a hint of appreciation there. “That’s the Carver way too.”
I can almost see the cogs turning in Rafe’s head as he angles for another approach, one that’ll crack her open. “What drives you, Eliza? Power? Money? Respect?”
“Legacy,” she answers without a second’s hesitation. “To build something that outlasts me, that sets a new standard for both our families.”
“Legacy...” Rafe muses, his eyes narrowing like he’s trying to find the lie. But he won’t find it because that’s pure, undiluted Eliza speaking—her vision has always been crystal clear.
“Bold. And what if that legacy comes at a cost?” Rafe asks the question, hanging heavy between them.
“Every empire has its price,” she replies. “I’m willing to pay it.”
“Are you now?” Rafe challenges, but there’s a gleam of respect in his gaze that wasn’t there before. He’s pushing her, yes, but it’s like he wants her to push back just as hard.
“Absolutely.” Her voice cuts through the tension, sharp and sure.
“Good,” Rafe says, and I swear I see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. It’s as close to a smile as the old man gets.
Tarq and I are silent throughout this exchange; our presence lingers on the sidelines. But inside, I’m anything but quiet. My heart’s racing a marathon because Eliza’s doing more than holding her own—she’s winning our dad over.
Rafe Carver’s voice slices through the silence, sharp as a scalpel, drawing me back in. “Tell me about your strategies for expanding territory.”
Eliza’s eyes stare into his, without a flicker of hesitation. “Diplomacy first,” she starts, her mind clearly ticking over each word like it’s chess, and she’s thinking five moves ahead. “Force as a last resort. Allies are assets, but complacency with them is as dangerous as any enemy.”
“Even if those allies are family?” Rafe probes, leaning in.
“Especially then.” She stands her ground, unyielding. “Families can become complacent, too. It’s business first, blood second.”
I watch her, see the cogs turning in her head as she navigates this minefield. Eliza’s no stranger to the cutthroat politics of our world; she’s been swimming with sharks since she was old enough to walk. Her answers are more than textbook—they’re etched with the reality of living this life.
“Say you have a traitor. How do you handle it?” Rafe’s question is a live wire thrown into a puddle.
“Expose, exploit, exterminate,” she replies calmly. “A betrayal is a lesson. You learn from it, use it to reinforce loyalty in others, and then you remove the problem. Permanently.”
“Ruthless,” Rafe comments, but I catch the twitch of his lip—it’s approval, however grudging.
“Effective,” she corrects him, her tone even, her gaze unwavering.
Tarq and I share a glance. We’re both impressed as hell. Eliza’s not just going toe-to-toe with one of the most feared men in the underworld; she’s doing it with the poise of someone who’s been at this game for decades. Her Dad taught her well, no doubt.
I’m on the edge of awe, watching Eliza match wits with the old man. She’s brilliant and fearless, and right now, she’s shining brighter than I’ve ever seen her. The way she holds herself, the fire lighting up her eyes—I’m floored by the force of nature that is Eliza Hughes. As Rafe Carver nods in what seems like respect,I know she’s not just winning this round; she’s changing the game.
With Rafe’s nod, the tension breaks like a snapped wire. This woman, this fierce, brilliant force of nature, has just earned her stripes with one of the most cutthroat people I know. I feel a surge of something wild and fierce rising up because Eliza is the real deal, and Dad knows it.
Eliza’s chest rises and falls, each breath a notch in her victory. I see it in the set of her jaw, the unwavering stance—she’s sitting taller now, and Rafe Carver’s nod is like a coronation. She’s not just passed his test; she’s shattered expectations.
