She Was Dared to Kiss a Masked Stranger at the Royal Ball… Then the Most Feared Duke Claimed Her

Chapter 3

She spent the afternoon attempting to work. She reviewed guest lists, finalized floral arrangements for a baroness’s dinner, negotiated discreetly over an indiscretion involving a viscount and an opera singer. But her mind remained in that corridor, in those dark eyes that had studied her like a problem to be solved.

At precisely 11:50 the following morning, a black carriage halted before her residence. The driver did not speak. The journey carried her beyond the polished avenues of Mayfair, past the thinning estates, into countryside that grew quieter with every mile. And then she saw it.

Ravenshire Estate did not resemble the delicate country houses of southern peers. It rose from the hills like a fortress — dark stone, high iron gates, guards positioned at every entrance. No climbing roses adorned its walls. No frivolous gardens softened its approach. Only discipline. Only power.

She was escorted through corridors lined with ancestral portraits, all stern faces, all bearing the same sharp gaze she now recognized as the Ravenshire mark. Power did not whisper here. It commanded.

At last, the door to a study opened. Leather. Smoke. Maps pinned to walls. Brandon Lewis stood behind a broad mahogany desk, sleeves rolled back, military jacket discarded, but authority intact. He did not look surprised to see her. He did not look amused.

“Sit,” he said without preamble.

She obeyed. Silence stretched while he finished reviewing documents, annotating margins with decisive strokes of his pen. Only when he set the paper aside did his gaze lift fully to her.

“Do you know why you are here?”

“To apologize,” she said coolly. “Or to be reprimanded.”

“Neither.”

He opened a drawer and withdrew a slim folder. He slid it across the desk. “Open it.”

Sienna did. Her breath stalled. Financial records. Loan agreements. Company seals. Her company seal. Her partner’s signature. Marcus Webb.

“He borrowed twenty thousand pounds three years ago,” the Duke said evenly. “Using your firm as collateral.”

“That is impossible.”

“He ceased repayment last month.”

Her fingers tightened around the pages. “Where is he?”

“In France. With another man’s wife and my money.”

Cold dread seeped into her veins. “You cannot hold me accountable for his betrayal.”

“Legally,” he replied, “I can.” He leaned back in his chair. “You are the remaining registered partner. The debt transfers to you. Twenty thousand pounds.”

An impossible sum. “You are threatening me.”

“I am presenting options.” He stood, walking slowly around the desk until he stood before her. “You may repay the debt in full within thirty days.”

She almost laughed. “Or?”

“Or you will work for me until it is cleared.”

Her pulse quickened. “Work in what capacity?”

“You manage reputations,” he said. “You orchestrate social perception. You erase scandals before they breathe.” He watched her carefully. “I have many enemies who would benefit from a whisper. I require someone adept at silencing them.”

“And if I refuse?”

His expression did not change. “I acquire your company, your accounts, your apartment lease. And I ensure no respectable household in London ever hires you again.”

The threat was delivered calmly, as fact.

“Why me?” she asked quietly.

“Because you kissed me in front of three hundred witnesses and did not faint.” He paused. “Because you are either reckless or brave. I have not yet determined which, but both can be useful.”

Sienna rose slowly from her chair. “You intend to make me your spy.”

“I intend to make you my shield.” The words struck her harder than the threat. He stepped closer. “Women like you are underestimated. They speak freely around you. They confess. They boast. You will listen. You will report. And if I uncover something inconvenient for you, then we shall decide how inconvenient it is.”

Silence lingered between them. The choice was an illusion. She saw it clearly. He would ruin her if she refused, but he would use her if she accepted. Both paths led into his world.

“When do I begin?” she asked at last.

“Tonight.” He retrieved a garment bag from a cabinet and laid it across a nearby chair. “There is a private gathering of northern lords this evening. Rumors circulate regarding my border operations. You will stand beside me.”

“As what?”

“As someone worth watching.”

Her throat tightened. “And what precisely am I to do?”

“Observe,” he said, and his voice lowered. “And let them believe I value you.”