Phantom: Her Ruthless Villain (Ruthless Triad 5)

I laughed, but then I sobered enough to say, “Thank you. I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me.”

“It wasn’t all for you. It was a lot for me, too,” he answered with a wolfish grin.

His words lit up my body with a new awareness. Made me feel bold. Bold enough to ask, “What do you mean by that exactly?”

“Exactly?” he repeated. The grin fell away, leaving only hunger in his eyes.

Three flames erupted inside of me at the same time. One in each of my cheeks and one in my lower belly, stirring the pot of desire that had been percolating at a low simmer ever since our one-night stand.

“There you are, Livvy.”

We both looked up to see my father.

“I’ve been trying to get away to talk to you for the entire party.” He looked Hak-kan up and down. “You still haven’t introduced me to your date.”

I grimaced, realizing how rude it must have appeared to walk right into the party without saying a word to him. Although, in my defense, usually it’s me having to cut through swathes of businessmen just to tell him I’d arrived, only to get a polite welcome and an immediate dismissal.

I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that Dad would notice the absence of my greeting at a hunt afterparty. But I suppose this situation was new for all of us. I mean, his second wife would be announcing my ex now being engaged to her daughter at any moment.

“Sorry, Dad. This is…”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Dad said as if he hadn’t just asked me for the introduction. He held his hand out for a shake. “Hak-kan Zhang. Nice to meet one of the VIP Bai3 partners. From what I understand, all three of you are hard to get into a room. So imagine my surprise when you showed up here with my daughter. How long have you two been…?”

My dad trailed off, expecting an answer, but I could only stare at Hak-kan. VIP Bai3—that was the baijiu taking all the hip cities by storm. I only knew it because the New York Times wrote a hot feature on baijiu being the latest drinking trend thanks to luxury brands like VIP Bai3. Also, the few times Eric had dragged me out dancing, he ordered that brand specifically to start the night.

But I had no idea that Hak-kan was one of the names behind it.

“Call me Phantom,” Hak-kan answered my dad, stringing an arm around my shoulders. “And as for me and O, we’re dating pretty seriously.”

Dad scanned the both of us in the same manner he analyzed the thoroughbred horses he sought out in hopes of one day winning a Kentucky Derby.

And eventually, his considering look gave way to one of approval. “Yes, I like this, Livvy. It’s the same thing I’ve been trying to say to the marketing guys for years, out with the old—time to think outside the box.”

I looked from side to side. Was he comparing our made-up relationship to one of his marketing campaigns?

I didn’t get the chance to ask. Dad continued on with his rounds around the party like a cruise ship refusing to bank at one port for too long—the Boomer version of ADHD that so many businessmen in his generation had.

“What was that all about?” I asked when Hak-kan pulled me back into his arms to start dancing again.

He cranked his head from side to side. “Actually, I wanted to talk with you about that. I’m good at business, and I’m sensing an opportunity here. One that gets you some high-key revenge on Garrett and me an in with your father. Word on the street is that he’s looking to sell Glendaver, but only to someone he’s got a personal connection with. Old-school.”

Oh…

I stopped swaying with him, and my heart sank. “So that’s why you came down here. You knew that I could be your opportunity to buy Glendaver.”

He regarded me, his expression somehow hard and conflicted at the same time. “I could lie—I’m good at that. But I’m liking all this truth between us, so I’ll tell it to you straight. Yeah, I want to buy Glendaver. That’s been a thought in my head for a while now. But I knew Drew Glendaver wouldn’t sell to a guy he didn’t know from Adam.”

All the stares when we came in—the heads turning to gossip. It hadn’t been shock at all—at least not the kind I’d assumed. It had been because I walked in with competition on my arm.

The pages of the story I’d told myself when we arrived rewrote itself inside my mind.

Leaving me to feel as silly as a fox pardon when I got to the twist everyone else saw coming.

I stiffened but decided to say, “Well, thank you. Your presence, no matter what inspired it, made this night so much more bearable. It would seem I owe you another favor.”