Confidential

Chapter Twelve

Sari had never been good at pretending.Yet here she was, in a crimson dress, surrounded by a hundred eyes, trying to flirt her way into a conversation with a man she despised.

Matthew Elizalde still stood where she left him, relaxed, confident, amused. That lazy smirk hadn’t faded. It was the kind of expression that said he already knew she’d come back.

Sari approached him slowly, the crowd parting in her wake like instinct.He looked her over, eyes dragging just long enough to make her want to look away.

“Couldn’t stay away, Doctor?” he said softly, tilting his head.

She smiled faintly. “Maybe I’m just here for better lighting.”

He chuckled, low and genuine. “Try again.”

Sari exhaled, steadying herself. “I was hoping we could talk somewhere quiet. You seem like the kind of man who appreciates privacy.”

That got his attention. His eyes flicked with curiosity, the smirk deepening just slightly.

“Privacy,” he repeated. “That’s a dangerous word here.”

“I can handle dangerous,” she said, surprising herself with how natural it sounded.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then he extended a hand, palm open, waiting.

“Come with me.”

The moment their skin touched, a spark shot through her, fast, unwanted, and maddeningly electric. She jolted slightly, almost imperceptibly, but he noticed. His fingers tightened just enough to keep her close.

Her mind screamed to pull away, but her body betrayed her. The contact lingered.

Focus, Sari. This isn’t attraction. This is negotiation.

She glanced over her shoulder. Joan was watching from the bar, eyes wide, lips curved in a “holy hell, it’s working” kind of grin. Mariella, ever composed, simply gave her a curt nod, the silent reminder that this was part of the plan.

Sari swallowed hard. She could do this.She could drop her pride if it meant saving the clinic.

He led her through the crowd, his hand still wrapped around hers. His grip was steady, confident, not possessive but commanding in a way that made people move aside without question.

They reached a velvet-roped staircase guarded by two men in black. They didn’t even blink as Matthew passed, just nodded him through.

The upstairs suite was exactly what she imagined: wealth disguised as decadence. Marble floors. Velvet couches. Crystal decanters. The air smelled of champagne and perfume, laughter echoing from the far corner.

Several men sat lounging, the kind who looked like they owned entire industries, while women in couture dresses and glossy smiles leaned in close, laughing too easily.

Sari’s stomach turned.

These were the powerful. The untouchable. The men who thought consequences were for other people.

Matthew stopped in the doorway. “Everyone out.”

The chatter froze. One of the men laughed uncertainly, but Matthew’s tone left no room for argument. “Now.”

Within seconds, the room cleared. The men exchanged knowing looks; the women gave Sari curious glances before slipping past her in clouds of perfume and glitter.

When the door shut behind the last one, silence fell.

Matthew crossed the room and pressed something on the wall behind the velvet sofa. The lights dimmed instantly, shifting to a deep, ambient red. The blinds of the glass walls descended in smooth, mechanical motion until they were sealed inside a private cocoon of shadow and color.

Sari’s pulse thudded in her ears.

He turned back to her, expression unreadable. “Better?”

She folded her arms, trying to disguise the tremor of nerves under her skin. “That depends on what we’re talking about.”

Matthew smiled slightly. “That depends on you, Doctor.”

She took a breath, pushing aside the heat and confusion. “Then let’s talk business.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Business?”

“Yes,” she said firmly, meeting his gaze. “The lawsuit. You’re suing my family’s clinic for twenty million dollars. I want to discuss an alternative.”

That wiped the smirk clean off his face. His amusement cooled into something sharper. “You’re from Howard Clinic.”

“Dr. Czarina Howard,” she said, her voice dropping the social pretense and sharpening with cold, surgical focus. She drew herself up, radiating the authority of her profession. “Obstetrics and Gynecology. And yes, Mr. Elizalde, I flew from London to deal with your claim.”

For a beat, the club’s noise seemed to fade into a distant hum. Matthew’s expression shifted, the playful amusement wiped clean, replaced by a flicker of genuine surprise, and something akin to assessment.

Then he laughed, quiet and abrupt. “You’re the daughter.”

“I’m the doctor,” she corrected instantly, her eyes locking onto his. “And I’m here to offer you a way to settle this privately, before we both waste any more time.”

He took a slow step closer, the red light tracing the sharp, undeniable edge of his jaw. “You came all this way to negotiate?”

“I came to your office the other day,” she said, her sarcasm heavy and precise, “but your secretary will not let women who aren’t wearing slutty clothes past the waiting area. So here I am, dressed for your playground.”

He regarded her, his head tilted slightly, amusement returning to his eyes, but now mixed with an undeniable spark of admiration. He clapped once, the sound crisp even over the music.

“I must confess, you really surprised me there,” he murmured, his voice dipping low and confident. He glanced down at the platinum Patek on his wrist. “To be honest, I thought I was going to have my d**k deep into you in about five minutes from now.” His cockiness was back, a wall of pure, unadulterated arrogance.

The blood rushed to Sari’s head, scalding her with irritation, but she recognized the deliberate provocation. If he thought vulgarity could win this, he was wrong.

“I think you have enough p***y running around this club tonight to keep your balls busy after we talk,” she countered, delivering the brutal retort with chilling composure. She would not lose this argument, not by yielding to his vulgarity. “And yes, to answer your question: I am willing to do anything. If it saves my family’s legacy, I will do whatever it takes.”

His eyes held hers, searching, assessing. The playful arrogance had finally vanished, replaced by an unsettling intensity, a cold, focused intrigue.

Then, softly, Matthew spoke, the words a low-pitched warning only for her. “I hope you know what that means, Doctor.”

Sari held his gaze, unflinching, meeting his challenge with her own steel.

“I do.”