The bar was nearly empty at this hour just past midnight on a Tuesday. The few patrons present were power players nursing expensive whiskey and conducting business that couldn't happen in daylight. Perfect.
I was reviewing my options. They were limited. Nathan had been thorough in his destruction. My company was gone. My reputation as "the jilted fiancée" would follow me in business circles. My father would never stand up to Constance to help me.
But Nathan had made one crucial error: he'd underestimated me.
I was my mother's daughter. Catherine Chen hadn't built a tech empire by being soft or forgiving. She'd been ruthless when necessary, strategic always, and she'd taught me everything before the cancer ravaged her brilliant mind.
I just needed the right weapon.
That's when he walked in.
Damien Cross.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Conversations halted mid-sentence. Even the bartender stood straighter.
Nathan's older brother. The one the family whispered about in equal parts fear and resentment. The self-made billionaire who'd cut ties with the Cross family five years ago after some scandal no one would explain to me. He'd built Titanium Holdings from the ground up, a venture capital empire that made the Cross family's old money look like pocket change.
Forbes estimated his net worth at twelve billion. Nathan's trust fund was a mere three hundred million.
Damien Cross never attended family events. Never acknowledged Nathan's existence in the press. When asked about his family in interviews, he simply said, "I have no family" and moved on.
So why was he here tonight? In New York, when he was supposedly in Singapore for a deal?
He moved through the bar like a predator, all lethal grace in a custom black suit that probably cost more than my burnt engagement dress. Tall at least six-foot-three with dark hair styled perfectly and a jawline that could cut glass. But it was his eyes that made people step back.
Grey. Cold. Absolutely merciless.
Those eyes swept the room and landed on me.
Recognition flickered across his face, followed by something I couldn't quite read. Interest? Calculation? Both?
Our gazes locked, and I felt something dangerous spark in the air between us. An understanding, perhaps. Or a challenge.
I made a decision.
If Nathan wanted to destroy me publicly, I'd destroy him back privately. I'd take everything he valued, everything he'd stolen from me, and I'd burn it to the ground.
And I'd use the one weapon he'd never see coming: his own brother.
I stood, smoothed down my black dress, and walked straight toward Damien Cross. Every eye in the bar followed me, but I didn't care. I was done caring about what people thought.
"Buy me a drink?" I asked when I reached him, my voice steady despite the champagne and rage coursing through my veins.
Up close, he was even more intimidating. Broad shoulders, cold eyes that assessed me like a business acquisition, and an aura of power that was almost tangible.
His gaze swept over me, pausing on my face. "You're Nathan's discarded fiancée."
Not a question. A statement. He knew. Of course he knew. The whole city probably knew by now.
"Ex-fiancée," I corrected, meeting those cold grey eyes without flinching. "As of approximately" I checked my watch, a Cartier my mother had given me, "three hours and forty-seven minutes ago."
"And you want me to buy you a drink because…?" His voice was deep, controlled. Everything about him was controlled.
I leaned closer, close enough to see the gold flecks in his grey eyes, close enough that my perfume Chanel No. 5, the same scent my mother wore would reach him.
"Because I want revenge," I said simply. "And I think you do too."
For the first time, I saw Damien Cross smile.
It wasn't warm. It wasn't kind. It was the smile of a man who'd built empires by crushing his enemies, who'd cut ties with his own family without a second thought, who played business like warfare.
It was terrifying.
It was perfect.
"Sit down, Aria Chen," he said, gesturing to the booth he'd been heading toward. "Let's talk business."
I slid into the seat across from him, and as he signaled the bartender for two glasses of whiskey Macallan 25, I noted I felt the cold rage in my chest shift into something sharper.
Nathan had taught me that love was a weakness. Trust was a liability. Kindness was for fools.
Fine.
If that's the game we were playing, I'd play it better than he ever could.
I'd destroy Nathan Cross. I'd take back my mother's company. And I'd do it all with the help of the one man Nathan feared most in this world.
His own brother.
"Tell me, Aria," Damien said as our whiskey arrived, his eyes sharp and calculating. "What exactly are you proposing?"
I lifted my glass, meeting his gaze over the amber liquid.
"An alliance," I said. "You help me destroy your brother. I help you do whatever it is you've been planning against your family for five years."
"And what makes you think I'm planning anything?"
"Because men like you don't cut ties with billions of dollars in inheritance unless you have a better plan." I took a sip of the whiskey, letting it burn. "And men like you don't show up in New York the night of your brother's engagement party announcement unless you're already three steps ahead."
Damien Cross studied me for a long moment, and I held my ground. I had nothing left to lose. My company was gone. My reputation was shredded. My family had betrayed me.
All I had left was rage and intelligence.
Apparently, that was enough.
"You're smarter than he deserves," Damien finally said. "Alright, Aria Chen. Let's discuss terms."
We talked until 3 AM, plotting the destruction of Nathan Cross and everything he'd stolen.
I had no idea that by the end of the night, I'd be in Damien's bed.
Or that six weeks later, I'd be staring at a positive pregnancy test.
Some revenge plans are more complicated than others.