Three days had passed since the merger was announced.
Three days of headlines, chaos, and calls she refused to answer.
Ariella sat at her glass desk, staring blankly at the proposal document open on her screen. Outside her office windows, the ValeTech skyline glinted in quiet mockery — a perfect view of the empire she'd bled for. Built for. Protected.
Now half of it didn't belong to her.
A knock on the door.
Sabrina poked her head in, all blonde curls and red lipstick. "Hey, babe. I got you that thing you like. Double espresso, extra hostile."
Ariella smiled faintly. "You're an angel."
"Obviously." Sabrina walked in, heels echoing. "So, any updates on the merger mess? Or are we still pretending your dad didn't publicly hand you over to the devil in a tailored suit?"
Before Ariella could respond, the door opened again.
She didn't need to look to know who it was.
The room shifted.
Jeremiah King stepped inside, wearing a black suit like it was built for his sins. His shirt was open at the throat — again. No tie. No shame. Just quiet, controlled power in every move.
Sabrina nearly choked on her coffee.
"Speak of the devil," she muttered.
He didn't glance at Sabrina. His eyes were only for Ariella.
"Ms. Vale," he said, voice like smoke. "Nice office. Smaller than I expected."
Ariella leaned back in her chair, expression unreadable. "Jeremiah."
"Sabrina," he said smoothly, nodding once. "Could you give us a moment?"
Sabrina blinked, stunned he even knew her name.
But Ariella cut in. "She stays."
His jaw twitched — barely.
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a sleek white business card.
"I came to schedule our first strategy meeting," he said. "The press is getting impatient. So is the board."
"I'm not available," Ariella said flatly.
His smile didn't reach his eyes. "You'll need to make time."
"No," she said. "I won't."
He moved toward her slowly, like a lion approaching a kill it wasn't sure whether to devour or toy with. Sabrina tensed but said nothing.
He stopped right in front of Ariella's desk. Close. Too close.
"Then at least take my card," he murmured.
She held out her hand.
He didn't give it to her.
Instead, his eyes locked on hers — daring her — and he leaned forward. In one smooth, shameless motion, he tucked the card into the neckline of her blouse, slipping it just beneath the fabric.
His fingers brushed the swell of her breast.
Ariella didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
But the air went sharp.
Sabrina gasped. "What the—"
Jeremiah pulled back slowly, gaze unreadable.
"You'll call me when you're done pretending you're not interested," he said softly.
Then, without another word, he turned and left. No apology. No backward glance.
The door shut with a soft click.
Silence.
Sabrina blinked like she'd forgotten how. "Okay. So. I'm sorry but... he is so hot. Like, ruined-my-life hot."
Ariella said nothing.
She reached down, pulled the card from her chest with two fingers like it was radioactive.
She stared at it for a moment.
Then dropped it into the trash.
"I don't do men like him," she said.
But her heart — traitorous, reckless — was still racing.