The man pinning me against the Rolls-Royce smelled of expensive tobacco, gunpowder, and fresh blood.
Darius Blackwood.
Even in the darkest corners of the underworld, his name was only spoken in whispers. He was the undisputed king of the city's shadows, a man who could crash the stock market or erase a rival syndicate with a snap of his fingers.
And right now, he was bleeding out on my car door.
"You're bleeding from a gunshot wound right next to your descending aorta," I said, my voice perfectly steady as I looked into his deep, predatory eyes. "If you keep pressing against me like this to look intimidating, you'll be dead in exactly four minutes."
Darius chuckled, a dark, rumbling sound that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. Even pale and losing blood, his grip on my waist was like iron.
"I've searched the globe for the 'Living Yama' for three years," Darius whispered, leaning in so close his lips brushed my ear. "Imagine my surprise when I find out the legendary surgeon who dances with death... has been playing house with a pathetic fool like Julian Thorne."
"I was on vacation," I replied coldly. "Now let go of me before you bleed on my limited-edition heels."
Darius's eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and raw obsession. He didn't let go. Instead, his thumb traced my jawline. "Save me, Elara. And I swear, whatever you want in this world—power, revenge, or me—it's yours."
Before I could answer, his massive body finally succumbed to the blood loss. He slumped forward.
I caught him, easily bearing his weight.
"Sebastian," I commanded, looking at my butler. "Put him in the back seat. Prepare the mobile surgical kit. I have a king to save."
The next morning.
Sunlight poured into the luxurious CEO office of Thorne Enterprises. Julian sat in his leather chair, a smug smile on his face as he sipped his espresso.
Chloe was sitting on his lap, giggling as she adjusted his tie.
"Julian, are you sure Elara won't come back and cause trouble?" Chloe pouted, playing with his collar. "She looked so angry last night."
Julian sneered, kissing her forehead. "Let her be angry. Without me, she's nothing. She doesn't have a cent to her name, no connections, and no skills. I give it three days before she's kneeling outside this building, begging for her place back."
Bang!
The office doors were suddenly thrown open.
Julian's assistant, Mark, rushed in, his face as pale as a ghost, sweat pouring down his forehead. He was holding an iPad with shaking hands.
"Sir! Mr. Thorne! It's a disaster!" Mark yelled, completely ignoring Chloe, who had jumped off Julian's lap in shock.
"What is wrong with you, Mark? Knock!" Julian barked.
"Sir, Vanguard Capital just pulled all their funding!" Mark screamed, panic raising his voice an octave. "Every single cent! And because they pulled out, three other major banks have called in our loans!"
Julian's espresso cup shattered on the floor.
"What?!" Julian jumped up, his face losing all its color. Vanguard Capital was their biggest backer. They had single-handedly kept Thorne Enterprises afloat for the past three years. "That's impossible! Get the Vanguard representative on the phone! We had an ironclad contract with Mr. E. Vance!"
"I... I did call them, sir!" Mark stammered, swallowing hard. "They sent over the termination notice."
Mark placed the iPad on the desk.
Julian grabbed it, his eyes frantically scanning the legal document. But when he reached the bottom of the page, his breath hitched. His pupils dilated in pure horror.
There, at the bottom of the termination letter, was the signature of the Chairman of Vanguard Capital. The mysterious billionaire who had funded his entire rise to power.
It didn't say Mr. E. Vance.
It clearly read: Elara Vance.
And right below her signature was a handwritten note: Keep the hundred thousand dollars, Julian. You're going to need it for your bankruptcy lawyers.
"No... No, no, no!" Julian stumbled backward, crashing into his chair. His legs gave out. "This has to be a mistake! Elara is just a housewife! She washed my shirts! How can she be the Chairman of Vanguard?!"
"Julian? What's going on?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling as she saw Julian's world collapsing.
Julian ignored her. He desperately pulled out his phone and dialed Elara's number.
"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."
Julian's hands shook violently. He was bankrupt. Overnight. Destroyed by the woman he had thrown away for a paper cut.
Just then, his computer chimed. An elite, gold-embossed digital invitation popped up on the screen.
[The Vance Family cordially invites you to the Welcoming Banquet for the True Trillionaire Heiress.]
Julian stared at the invitation like a drowning man looking at a life raft.
"The Vance Heiress..." Julian muttered, a manic, desperate light entering his eyes. He didn't know who the heiress was, but he knew the Vance family ruled the global economy.
"I can fix this," Julian said, grabbing his jacket. "If I can go to this banquet... If I can charm the Vance Heiress, I can get the funding back! I don't need Elara!"
He had no idea that the "Vance Heiress" he was planning to seduce... was the exact same woman he had divorced last night.
And she was waiting for him.