My Little Temptress

#2: Angel

"Amara?!" His eyes widened, yet a gentle smile spread across his face. "What brings you here? Shouldn't you be at the company?"

The woman standing before him exuded an air of effortless elegance, her tailored suit accentuating her commanding presence. She crossed her arms, arching a brow as her sharp gaze scanned the room.

"Shouldn't you be handling business instead of playing kingpin in this decrepit basement, Mr. Knox Ville Lowa?" she retorted, her voice calm but edged with authority.

The seated man, knox, leaned back in his chair, his confidence momentarily shaken. "Business comes in many forms, Amara. This is just... necessary negotiations." He gestured toward the battered man on the floor, as if justifying his actions.

Amara’s eyes flicked to the bleeding figure, her lips tightening. "Negotiations?" she repeated icily. "This looks more like desperation. Torturing someone won't solve your problems, knox. It only makes you weaker."

Knox's smile faltered, his jaw tightening. "You’re not here to lecture me, are you, little Sister? Tell me what you want."

Amara stepped closer, the sharp clack of her heels echoing in the dimly lit room. She stopped just short of the battered man, crouching down to meet his gaze. Her expression softened for a fleeting moment as she studied his injuries, then hardened as she rose and turned back to knox.

"I’m here to clean up your mess," she said coldly. "The board has been asking questions. Your... methods have been drawing unwanted attention."

Knox's eyes darkened, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. "The board has no say in how I handle my affairs. I’m the one keeping this family in power."

"By making enemies at every turn?" Amara snapped, her voice rising. "You’re becoming reckless, knox. This isn’t how Father ran things."

"Don’t you dare bring him into this," knox growled, his composure cracking.

Amara held her ground, her gaze unwavering. "Then stop tarnishing his legacy."

A tense silence filled the room, the other men glancing nervously between the two siblings.

Finally, knox let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. Take him," he said, gesturing dismissively toward the battered man. "Do whatever you want. But don’t forget, Amara, I still run this family."

Amara stepped forward, her expression unyielding. "For now," she replied, her voice a quiet warning.

She turned to the battered man, motioning for two of her guards to help him up. "You’re coming with me," she said, her tone softer now. "You’ll be safe."

As they guided him toward the exit, knox called out, "Amara."

She paused, glancing over her shoulder.

"Don’t think you can undermine me and get away with it," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Amara smirked, her eyes glinting with defiance. "I wouldn’t dream of it, dear brother."

With that, she walked out, the battered man leaning heavily on her guards, and the tension in the room shifted from sharp to simmering. Knox's expression darkened as he watched her go, his mind already plotting his next move.