Chapter 3

I put down my pen, looked up at the dangerous man, my voice steadier than before because I was holding real leverage.

"Mr. Smith, your accounts have no loopholes."

James raised an eyebrow, a flash of killing intent in his eyes: "Are you playing me?"

"No." I pushed the report back, my finger pointing at that code, "Your accounts are perfectly done, enough to fool the Internal Revenue Service. But haven't you noticed? Your profits have been stolen through these seemingly compliant 'loss items'."

"This isn't a tax loophole, this is theft." I fixed my eyes on him, "Someone is using your money to fund their own private army. And I know whose accounting method this is."

This was a very hidden loophole that would be hard to spot unless you were an accountant who understood both tax law and military procurement.

This must be the trap deliberately planted by that dead accountant.

James didn't immediately look at the report. His gaze stayed on my face, as if studying something.

Until Kai respectfully handed him those three reports.

Only then did James lazily raise his hand and take them.

He flipped through them one by one.

When looking at the first and second ones, James still had a playful smile. But when his eyes fell on the code I had circled, "GL-77," his expression changed.

He casually tossed the report on the sofa.

"Interesting."

He slowly stood up, his 6-foot-2 height bringing an oppressive presence that enveloped me.

He approached me step by step.

I didn't retreat, forcing myself to stand my ground, straightening my spine.

The tobacco smell on him mixed with the scent of blood, forcefully invading my breathing.

We faced off at a distance of less than 2 feet.

I could even see clearly in his silver-gray pupils the reflection of my pale but stubborn face.

"You are indeed qualified."

His deep voice vibrated near my ear.

"So, I can give you a chance."

"Make a bet with me."

James slowly raised his left hand.

That hand that had just smashed someone's skull wore The Smith Family's wolf-head ring, gleaming coldly under the lights.

"If you can take this ring off my hand."

His thin lips curved up, "Michael's matter, we'll call it even."

"Your sister Mary's surgery fees, I'll cover them all too."

My heart jumped hard.

This was an impossible task.

Taking away his symbol of power from this cold-blooded killer?

What difference was there between this and suicide?

He was toying with me, but this was also my only chance.

I was about to refuse when my peripheral vision caught a poster at the end of the hallway.

On the poster, a girl was wrapped around a pole.

Pole dancing.

Some memories I had buried were instantly awakened.

In college, to relieve the pressure of raising my sister alone and heavy coursework, I secretly learned pole dancing for two years.

It was my only outlet, spinning and climbing on the pole, using strength and sweat to shake off pain and anxiety.

Later, Matthew said this kind of dance was too sexy, didn't fit an accountant's image.

So I gave it up.

I never thought that the skill I had abandoned would now become my only key to breaking the situation.

I took a deep breath, suppressed the surging emotions in my heart, and steadied myself.

When I looked up again, my eyes had regained their calm.

"Okay."

My answer stunned both James and Kai.

They probably thought I would bargain, or just give up.

I looked at James and made my request.

"But I need to borrow the pole in your performance area."

James was taken aback, not expecting me to make this request.

A hint of interest appeared in his eyes, then he ordered Kai to prepare.

Ten minutes later, the spotlight was turned on, shining on the gleaming pole in the center of the casino hall.

James sat lazily and elegantly on the sofa smoking a cigar, with Kai and several core subordinates standing behind him.

A strong dance track, "Despacito," with its wild rhythm, instantly ignited the entire space.

Meeting his appraising gaze, I slowly unbuttoned my professional jacket with my fingertips.

The black silk slip dress clung to my body, my full chest and hip line creating eye-catching curves, the hem also riding up slightly, making my legs look even longer.

James's gaze lingered for a moment on my slightly trembling chest, then slid along my cinched waistline to my full hip and leg curves.

His eyes instantly darkened.

I took off my shoes, wrapped my bare feet around the pole, my waist and thighs pressed tightly against it as I began to spin, the fullness of my chest rising and falling with the movement, my waist and hip curves tightening with exertion, then bouncing.

Following the rhythm, I closed my eyes, feeling the drumbeats hitting my chest, making my body gently undulate.

When I opened my eyes again, I had become the hunter controlling the scene.

I reached out to grab the pole, my body lifting off the ground, my soft waist and full thighs wrapping around it, as my body spun, the flying hem outlined undulating curves.

Then I climbed upward, my taut waist and hips showing amazing strength as I exerted force.

When my body hung upside down, my long hair fell, the fullness of my chest appearing even more perky due to gravity, casting a deep shadow.

My every movement was full of wildness.

Through the spinning gaps, my gaze locked onto that man.

James had already stood up, long ash falling from the cigar between his fingers.

His expression had changed, no longer casual observation, but filled with strong aggression and possessive desire.

The music climbed toward its climax, and I used the pole's force to launch into the air, my stretched body fully displaying my full curves.

I landed steadily in front of him, close enough to feel his burning breath.

Bodyguard Kai instinctively stepped forward, but was stopped by James's raised hand.

He stood there, his silver-gray pupils full of danger.

But this game had just begun.

I curved my lips into a smile, pushed off with my toes, and threw myself into his arms.

My breasts pressed tightly against his solid chest, and I could feel both our out-of-control heartbeats.

The moment my legs wrapped around his waist, James instinctively supported my hips.

"You..." He had just started speaking when my movement interrupted him.

I used him as a pole, spinning around him as the axis, the skin of my inner thighs rubbing tightly against the shirt at his waist.

This movement made the muscles in his arms instantly tense; the hands supporting my hips also tightened sharply, almost digging into my flesh.

Through the thin shirt, I felt his body's scorching temperature, and that powerful heartbeat.

He smelled of premium cigar tobacco, cold pine, and a faint trace of blood.

This scent was dangerous, yet addictive.

He had probably never been so teased by a woman before.

In that moment when he stiffened from this sudden intimacy, I seized the opportunity.

My right hand slid down along his neck, with a clear target—the wolf-head ring on his left hand.

My fingertips touched the cold metal.

Using the centrifugal force from my body's rotation, I hooked hard with my fingertips and pulled.

The wolf-head ring symbolizing The Smith Family's power slipped off his finger and landed securely in my palm.