The CEO's Broken Rose

Didn't I tell you I would destroy you if you ever showed your face again? A flawless, relaxed smile curved Caspian's lips, but the five fingers wrapped around my throat tightened like a steel trap.

Ten years ago on Valentine's Day, I dumped him and erased my existence from his world. A decade later, he sat at the top of the billionaire food chain. Only minutes ago at the VIP auction, he dropped seven figures without blinking to buy a diamond necklace for his current girlfriend.

But the second the spotlight hit my face and he realized I was the designer, he lost his damn mind. He dragged me into the shadows and slammed me hard against the cold wall, his massive frame cutting off my escape.

Chapter 1

The AC in the auction hall was set too low. Back in the VIP banquet area, a few investors had forced me to down three shots of cheap tequila in a row. Now, my stomach cramped in sharp, vicious waves, like I had swallowed a mouthful of broken glass.A short distance away, a few socialites and industry heavyweights were chatting. "Is the big day coming soon, Caspian? Dropping another fortune on a necklace just to make your girl smile."

Caspian lazily lifted his gaze. "Just playing around. It doesn't mean anything."

Sitting right in the center of the crowd, he was still the most blinding existence in the room. Every subtle movement he made bled an overwhelming sense of old-money arrogance. In this elite inner circle that controlled global wealth, everyone flocked to him, looking up at him like devoted cultists worshiping a tyrant.

My chest tightened so hard I couldn't breathe. How the hell was he here? I had checked the VIP guest list three times over

Standing behind the auction podium, I curled my body slightly to fight the blinding cramps. That tight, silk couture gown wrapping my body bunched up, forming messy, unseemly wrinkles around my waist. This was my first time attending an auction as the featured designer since I returned to the States.

Someone nearby lowered their voice, full of morbid curiosity. "Is it because of what happened back then"

Caspian let out a harsh, mocking scoff. "Her? She isn't worth a dime."

The venue lights slowly dimmed. Caspian faded into the shadows, the dim lighting tracing the razor-sharp edge of his jawline. I could only make out the silver lighter he was carelessly rolling between his fingers. His knuckles were bone-white from the sheer force of his grip.

The memory of his final phone call from back then crashed into me, draining every drop of warmth from my blood. He told me that people who played with hearts would burn in hell. He told me he would never forgive me, not in this lifetime.

"Blair, won't you come up and introduce your masterpiece?" The auctioneer suddenly called my name over the mic.

A blinding spotlight slammed down from the ceiling, caging me in the most conspicuous spot in the entire hall. The audience was a pitch-black void. I couldn't even see Caspian's face.

The room fell dead silent. Hundreds of invisible eyes waited for me to speak.

My fingers dug into the cold microphone. I forced my gaze away from his direction and stared at the back wall.

"Good evening, everyone. I am the jewelry designer of tonight's main piece, Blair. I'm thrilled to present my work to you all"

I blacked out through the entire speech, letting muscle memory take over.

In the pitch-black emergency stairwell ahead, a stark ember of a lit cigarette suddenly flared. A massive, towering shadow stepped into my path. Long, predatory strides ate up the distance between us.

Before my brain could even process the danger, a hand clamped brutally around my throat.

The sheer force slammed my back against the concrete wall. That familiar, aggressive scent of freezing mint mixed with heavy tobacco smoke crushed my senses.

The rough concrete scraped the skin off my shoulder, but his rock-hard knee aggressively wedged its way between my thighs. He pinned me dead in the suffocatingly narrow space, severing any chance of escape.

Caspian's glacial voice dripped into the dark. "You actually have the guts to come back? Didn't I tell you I'd destroy you if you ever showed your face again?"

I was forced to tilt my head up, staring straight into those eyes I used to know so well. But the soul-deep devotion from back then was wiped out. Only a lethal, arctic wasteland remained. Pressed hard against the wall, I held his stare, silently challenging him.

A low, dark laugh vibrated from his chest. "Cat got your tongue?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

His grip shifted to my jaw, his fingers digging in so hard his knuckles turned bone-white. Caspian dropped his voice to a lethal, barely-there whisper. "Say that again, Blair. I dare you."

The sharp click of stiletto heels echoed through the stairwell. A soft, feminine voice called out hesitantly. "Caspian? Are you in here? The auction is over."

Caspian squeezed his eyes shut, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he locked down the storm in his gaze. The crushing weight against my neck instantly vanished.

He pulled out a dark silk handkerchief and wiped his fingers, slowly and deliberately, like he had just touched something that shamelessly dirty. "Don't come in," he commanded. "It's freezing."

The clicking heels stopped dead. "Okay," the woman hummed softly. "Hurry up, then."

My legs gave out the second he stepped back. I sagged against the concrete, ripping the top button of my collar open to drag in greedy lungfuls of air. Cold sweat beaded my forehead. Our ragged breathing tangled in the heavy silence.

Caspian shot me one final, freezing glare. Without another word, he shoved the heavy stairwell door open and walked out.

Chapter 2

The jewelry finally hammered down to Caspian for a staggering fifty million. But it would take some time for the funds to clear the account. I was stuck stateside until the money landed.

Two weeks later, I ran into the necklace's new owner. It was at a high-end gallery event hosted by a major jeweler.

"Blair?" She spotted me first, plastering on a wildly enthusiastic smile. "Long time no see."

Her name was Naomi. We went to high school together. She was born with a silver spoon, and her whole life had been smooth sailing. The year I dropped out, things got incredibly ugly between us.

I froze, then forced my face into a mask of pleasant surprise. "Hey. I didn't expect to run into you here."

That eight-figure sapphire necklace rested against her slender neck, catching the light perfectly. Naomi dragged her gaze up and down my outfit, not even trying to hide her calculation. "Did you strike it rich?" After all, anyone who scored an invite to this gallery was either filthy rich or powerful.

I forced my lips to twitch upward. "I'm a jewelry designer. I pulled some strings to get the invite."

Facial expressions are a fascinating thing. Sometimes, a perfectly manicured smile is just a mask for raw contempt.

She waved dramatically at someone behind me. "Caspian, look who I ran into."

I didn't turn around, but I already felt the paralyzing weight of a hostile stare burning into my back. Razor-sharp and freezing cold.

"Stop talking to strays," Caspian's voice drifted over, smooth and dead inside. "Careful, or she'll con you out of everything down to the bone."

I kept my head down, staring at the floor.

Naomi, clearly thriving on the drama, laughed. "Oh, right, I forgot. You got played hard back in the day."

"Ripped off, screwed over, and left heartbroken. So messed up. Wouldn't you agree, Blair?"

The gallery owner's eyes lit up with morbid gossip. "Who on earth had the guts to play Caspian?"

Naomi swept a glance over my bloodless fingertips. She covered her mouth to let out a sharp, piercing sneer. "Just some trailer park trash. Even saying her name makes the air feel dirty."

The gallery owner nodded along in agreement. "Exactly. You can play around with those broke girls, but marriage? They're nowhere near the cut."

Caspian stood in the background the entire time, watching this circus with the cold detachment of a spectator.

"Hey, Ms. Blair, you look a little pale" The gallery owner finally noticed my existence. "Need some water?"

I scraped together a hideous smile. "No, thanks. I have somewhere to be. Excuse me."

By the time I stepped out of the exhibition hall, the sun was halfway below the horizon. I leaned against a brick wall, trying to get my breathing under control. My reflection in the glass door looked like a ghost.

My phone buzzed. A text from my best friend.

[Did you seal the deal? The layoff notices drop next month at the latest. We really need to get the client to the jewelry gala.]

I hit dial. "Yeah, I know," I told her, dragging in a shaky breath. "I just ran into someone I shouldn't have."

The line went dead quiet for a second. "No way. The guy who bought your piece it's Caspian?"

Because it was Caspian, the words died in my throat. Heavy silence stretched over the speaker.

"Just get the check first," my best friend tried to comfort me. "We'll figure the rest out later"

The situation between Caspian and me was complicated. I shook my head hard to clear the static, stepping toward the curb to hail a cab back to the hotel.

A deafening roar of an engine suddenly exploded right behind me. I spun around. A sleek, pitch-black Ferrari idled mere feet away, the engine revving aggressively.

The dying sunlight bled across the hood like liquid gold. The engine screamed louder. And louder.

The next second, the brakes released.

The massive machine lunged straight at me.

He sat behind the wheel, his pitch-black eyes locked onto me like a predator. Caspian wasn't joking. He said he would destroy me if I came back.

Chapter 3

My brain short-circuited. I could only watch helplessly as the massive machine barreled closer.

Thirty feet. Twelve. Six.

Screech

The deafening shriek of slamming brakes shattered the evening air. A flock of pigeons scattered frantically from the nearby trees. The heavy front bumper kissed my calves. Not a single inch more, not a single inch less.

My blood drained instantly, and cold sweat soaked straight through the back of my dress. My knees finally buckled, sending me crashing hard onto the concrete.

The next second, the tinted driver's window hummed down, revealing a pair of dead, freezing eyes. "Get in."

The last bleeding rays of the sun sank below the skyline. Total darkness swallowed the city like a suffocating net. The interior of the Ferrari was dead quiet. I pressed myself against the passenger door, keeping my mouth shut.

Caspian tapped the steering wheel. "Not even going to say a single word to me?"

"I'll disappear the second I get my cut from the auction."

He let out a harsh, suffocating scoff. "Ten years later, and you're still exactly the same."

A piece of thick paper fluttered onto my lap. A blank check.

He cut his gaze toward me. "Now you have it. Unless you're waiting around for me to hop on another roller coaster so you can play me for a fool again?"

Ten years ago, I told him if he survived the biggest drop on the boardwalk roller coaster, I wouldn't dump him. Caspian was deathly afraid of heights, but he gritted his teeth and strapped himself into that seat. And while he was up there, I turned my back and walked away forever.

Over the years, Caspian aggressively expanded his corporate empire into Europe and North America. His business tactics were famously brutal. For a long time, it felt like he was tearing up the very earth to hunt me down.

And then, he just stopped. A woman appeared by his side. He guarded her like a hawk, wiping every paparazzi shot and tabloid rumor completely off the internet.

Until today, her identity was a mystery. But the second I saw Naomi tonight, all the pieces clicked together. It was always Naomi.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. "You're misunderstanding the situation. I only want the payment I rightfully earned from the auction"

"Is there a difference?" His index finger rhythmically tapped the leather steering wheel.

"Sign the rights release agreement for the design. I'll write you a check for double the hammer price. You can pack your bags and leave tomorrow."

He laid it out perfectly clear. He was terrified Naomi would get the wrong idea, so he was paying top dollar to physically erase me from his city. And double the price was more than enough to save my job.

"Thank you."

I booked a red-eye flight back to Paris for the next morning and went straight to my hotel room to pack. The flat-screen TV played the late-night entertainment news. Naomi's identity was officially plastered everywhere as Caspian's mysterious lover. The headlines flashed in bold letters:

[A Match Made in Heaven.]

My best friend's voice crackled through the phone speaker. "That was supposed to be your own wedding necklace. You designed it for yourself. You're really just signing the rights away?"

"Caspian clearly adores her. It's just a piece of jewelry. It doesn't matter who wears it."

I looked up from my open suitcase, exhaling a long, quiet breath. "Just consider it my wedding gift to them. I have plenty of other designs. I'll just reach out to different clients"

She easily caught the exhaustion in my voice, so she dropped the subject, not knowing how else to comfort me.

Years ago, when I first landed in Europe, I was completely broke and desperate. That exact necklace sketch was my saving gracethe only thing that convinced my mentor to take me in. After all this time, bringing that sentimental piece back to American soil and letting it go it was finally time to bury the past.

Chapter 4

"Blair, honestly with guys in his billionaire echelon, dodging that bullet is actually a blessing. You survived that war zone once. You know exactly how much it bleeds."

"Yeah, don't worry about me." I kept my head down, aggressively folding my shirts to distract myself. "When you're a teenager, you think love is enough to survive on. Being a realist is how you actually stay alive"

Knock. Knock.

Someone pounded on my hotel door. "Who is it at this hour?" my best friend asked through the phone.

I pushed myself up from the carpet. "Probably just room service." I pulled the door open.

Caspian filled the doorway. The sharp, burning scent of expensive alcohol rolled off him. He leaned one massive arm against the doorframe, casting a heavy, suffocating shadow over me.

"What are you doing here?" I slammed my weight against the door, but his large hand instantly caught the wood, stopping it dead.

"Am I not allowed to be here?" Caspian's voice was rough. A dark, reckless intoxication softened the usual lethal edge of his face.

His perfectly tied silk tie hung loose around his collar. At the sound of my voice, his heavy eyelids lifted slightly, the dim hallway light carving out the aggressive, flawless lines of his jaw.

"Let go. The transaction between us is already over. That check is enough to buy out the past."

Caspian's breath hit my face, carrying the scalding heat of whiskey. He suddenly dropped his head low, his jaw clenching like a wild beast. "Fuck the transaction."

My fingers dug so hard into the brass door handle they cramped. "You're drunk. I'm calling your assistant"

Before I could finish, his large hand clamped around my wrist. His grip was brutal. "If I get on that damn roller coaster again, will you stay?"

The words hit me out of nowhere. I froze.

The burning heat from his palm seared straight through my skin. I yanked my wrist, but he didn't budge a single millimeter.

I exhaled a shaky breath. "We aren't kids anymore, Caspian." I didn't even realize my voice was trembling until the words slipped out.

Caspian's dark, predatory eyes locked onto mine. With one rough, impatient yank, he ripped his tie off, exposing the strong lines of his throat and collarbones.

"Then let's do this like adults." He dragged my hand flat against the hard muscle of his chest.

His voice was a harsh, raspy command. "Sleep with me."

My breath caught.

"Sleep with me, Blair. You do that, and every single thing I own is yours."

The frantic, hammering beat of his heart pounded against my palm. I jerked my hand back like I had touched a live wire. "Caspian, someone is going to see"

He refused to let go. "Let them look. It's my reputation on the line."

Suddenly, the sharp click of footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. My breath caught. In that split second of distraction, his massive frame forced his way inside.

Click.

The heavy door slammed shut. The entryway was pitch-black. Caspian shoved me flush against the wall. The dark space was instantly consumed by the sound of our ragged, heavy breathing.

Neither of us made a sound. After a decade of nothing but ghosts, the sudden crush of his body against mine felt jarring, yet too familiar.

He slowly leaned in, his lips hovering millimeters from mine. At the absolute last second, I forcefully twisted my head away.

His lips brushed the skin of my cheek. My pulse pounded against my eardrums.

Caspian froze. He dropped his forehead against the wall right next to my head, dragging in a harsh, ragged breath. "Step back," he rasped out. "I won't touch you."

I scrambled to meet his gaze. The reckless intoxication had burned out of his eyes, leaving behind a terrifying, freezing clarity.

A draft slipped through the cracked window, shattering the suffocating tension in the room. The steel cage of his arms suddenly dropped. I scrambled out of his trap, putting as much distance between us as the tiny room allowed.

Caspian stood completely still in the dark, his eyes sliding shut. The alcohol must have finally worn off, dragging his lethal self-control back into place. He was back to being the untouchable billionaire tyrant. I kept my head glued to the floor, aggressively shoving my scattered clothes back into my suitcase to hide the violent shaking of my hands.

Then, his cold, flat voice pierced the silence. "The check is void."

Chapter 5

My hands froze over my suitcase. I looked up at Caspian, completely stunned.

He stood perfectly still in the shadows. "There's a minor issue with the company. The check won't clear. My apologies."

His face was a blank, unreadable mask. I couldn't tell if he was lying straight to my face.

"Then what am I"

"Cancel your flight," he cut in smoothly. "I'll cover the cancellation fee."

I silently pulled my folded clothes out of the suitcase and tossed them onto the bed. "Fine."

The conversation flatlined, but I kept my eyes locked on his frame.

Caspian arched a brow. "Waiting for me to leave?"

"Obviously."

"Not happening tonight." He drawled out the words. "I've got a tail."

"The paparazzi in the lobby are practically drooling for a scandal. And I highly doubt you want your face plastered all over the tabloids with me tomorrow morning, Blair."

But the exhaustion was literally bone-deep. I sank onto the edge of the mattress, stubbornly waiting him out.

Minutes dragged by in heavy silence. Caspian stayed rooted by the door, completely motionless. The crushing weight of the jet lag finally dragged me under. My head hit the soft pillow.

Right before the darkness completely pulled me under, a low, gravelly whisper drifted into my ear. "Goodnight."

I was always a notoriously light sleeper. The first sharp ray of morning sunlight pierced through the blinds and hit my eyelids. I shifted my arm, but my hand brushed against something rock-hard and distinctly human.

That freezing mint and heavy cedar scent instantly flooded my senses. A decade later, and my body still recognized it on a cellular level.

My movement must have woken him. A massive, heavy arm brazenly clamped around my waist, dragging me flush against a hot, solid chest.

My eyes snapped open. I was staring dead into his face.

Caspian's eyelashes fluttered, his voice thick and rough with sleep. "Morning"

My brain blue-screened for three agonizing seconds. Then, I scrambled backward, grabbed the heavy down pillow, and slammed it straight into his face. "You sick bastard!"

Caspian took the hits for two seconds before his large hand suddenly clamped around my wrist like a steel vise. His jawline pulled brutally tight. "Blair, you've grown a lot of nerve."

"You're a creep!" I violently ripped my hand free, my trembling fingers scrambling to check the top button of my silk pajama top. My blood ran cold.

Caspian narrowed his eyes against the harsh sunlight. He pushed himself off the mattress and stalked slowly around the edge of the bed toward me. His expensive designer shirt looked like it had been shredded in a washing machine, completely wrinkled and ruined. He rubbed the back of his neck, his brows pulling into a deep, impatient frown.

His massive frame moving in my direction sent a fresh spike of panic through my chest. "Stay back"

Caspian reached out and caught a fistful of my long hair. He slid his fingers down the strands until he reached the very ends. Tangled into a messy knot of my hair was a small, torn designer button.

"Who the hell wants to touch you?" he muttered, not even bothering to look up. "Is your sleepwalking still that bad?"

I froze. My gaze flicked to his open collar. The top button was ripped off.

He started carefully working the knot loose, letting out a dark, cynical laugh. "You hooked my button last night and bolted to the bed. What exactly was I supposed to do?"

I choked on my next breath. "Then just grab some scissors and cut my hair."

"As if you'd let me take scissors to you."

For a guy with a notoriously volatile temper, Caspian was currently displaying a terrifying amount of patience. A quick, sharp yank would have snapped the threads instantly. Instead, he stood right next to me, his large fingers carefully and meticulously untangling the delicate strands like he was defusing a bomb.

A sudden, vivid memory from a lifetime ago flashed through my mind. Back when we were still together, his billionaire heir temper flared up during an argument, and he spitefully snipped off a small lock of my hair.

I had walked away sobbing, leaving him in the dust. Caspian had chased right after me, his arrogant pride crumbling.

"Blair, I'm sorry. I fucked up. I swear on my life I'll never touch it again."

"Here, take the scissors and cut mine. Just please stop crying."

I stared at our reflection in the large vanity mirror as his fingers worked at the knot. "I don't have that much physical strength," I pointed out. "How exactly did the button rip off the fabric?"

Caspian finally freed the last strand of hair. He leaned in, trapping me by planting both hands firmly on the mattress on either side of my hips.

He held my gaze for a long, heavy second before delivering the cold, deadpan truth. "I ripped it off myself. I knew if I fell asleep and moved, the pulling would hurt your scalp and wake you up."

My heart stuttered in my chest. I sat there, paralyzed. Caspian pushed off the mattress, turned his back, and walked straight into the bathroom.

Chapter 6

I buried my face in my hair, breathing in the lingering scent of Caspian. I had no idea what kind of cologne he wore

My phone rang. It was my best friend. "Blair, are you on the plane yet?"

It hit me that I forgot to tell her the plan changed. "I'm not heading back yet. I haven't gotten the money."

"Oh, thank God. Headquarters needs you to lock down Caspian for the gala." She let out a heavy sigh. "It's a dead mandate."

"He'll never say yes"

"You have to at least try."

"Try what?" Caspian's voice suddenly cut in.

The line went dead for a second. "Holy crap, don't tell me you that shamelessly dirty"

I scrambled to hang up. I looked up to find Caspian already dressed in a plush hotel bathrobe, leaning against the doorframe. His dark eyes were locked on me, heavy with an unreadable calculation.

"Why are you out here?"

Caspian shifted his gaze. "What exactly are you trying to get me to attend?" he asked flatly.

"Our brand's jewelry gala next month, in Paris."

Maybe my eyes gave away too much desperation. Caspian's lips curved upward slightly. "Who knows what will happen next month. We'll see."

Just as I thought. He was never going to agree.

Someone knocked on the hotel door. Caspian beat me to it. A moment later, he walked back and tossed a heavy designer paper bag straight into my arms. "Put it on."

"What is this?"

"Clothes." He stood in front of the vanity mirror, adjusting his tie. "You want me at your little gala, you need to accompany me somewhere first."

It was a custom dark ink-wash silk slip dress. It didn't have the aggressive flashiness of a typical red-carpet gown, but rather draped flawlessly, making the wearer look incredibly soft and elegant.

Caspian leaned against the wall, taking his time fastening his luxury watch. His pitch-black eyes bore a hole straight through my back. In the reflection of the mirror, our height difference was picture-perfect.

He wore a sharp, custom black suit that screamed quiet luxury. Standing next to me in the tight silk dress, the contrast between his aggressive build and my soft silhouette created a striking visual.

I pressed my lips together. "Do you have a coat?" The silk clung way too tightly to every curve of my body, and his gaze dragged over me, doing nothing to hide the heat.

"No," Caspian said casually, his gaze sweeping over the curve of my lower back without leaving a trace. "It looks beautiful."

I never in a million years expected Caspian to bring me to his family estate. Even after a decade, that hauntingly familiar mansion still stood exactly where it always had. I had come to this place more than once behind Caspian's back. In fact, every single one of my most suffocating nightmares started right here.

Caspian pulled the car door open and waited for me to step out. "You haven't met my younger brother and stepmother yet."

Cold sweat instantly soaked my palms. "Why did you bring me here?"

Caspian's lips twitched into a smirk. He leaned down and offered me his arm. "Scared to meet the family?" Standing in the dark, his gaze actually revealed a rare, fleeting trace of gentleness.

I completely froze.

He mistook my terror for simple nerves. He grabbed my hand. "We're just saying hello."

The mansion was lit up brilliantly against the night. We walked through the dense garden path and stopped in front of the massive double doors. The loud hum of chatter bled through the heavy oak. There were a lot of people inside.

Occasionally, a woman's overly gracious voice drifted out. "Oh, how could I possibly make the call on Caspian's marriage? After all, I'm not his biological mother"

Even after all these years, just hearing Jacqueline's voice sent a shiver straight down my spine.

"Caspian, you're back."

The doors swung open, casting a wide beam of light onto the carpet at our feet. The man stood against the glare, hiding his features, but my body moved completely on instinct, shrinking back behind Caspian's massive frame. It was Caspian's half-brother, Cameron.

Chapter 7

Caspian let out a flat hum, interlacing our fingers as he led me through the heavy oak doors.

As we brushed past Cameron, I accidentally looked up and locked eyes with him. He recognized me instantly. After a brief shock, a sick, twisted amusement bled into his dark eyes, exactly like the look he gave me back when he called me dirty trash.

"Damn, Caspian. After all these years, you still like playing with other people's leftover secondhand trash?"

He shadowed my steps, his arm intentionally brushing against my spine in the crowd. I dug my fingers into Caspian's bicep, desperately leaning away from the contact.

Caspian instantly caught my shift in body language. He shot Cameron a freezing, lethal glare. "Back the fuck off."

Cameron flashed a reckless smirk and finally turned away.

As we walked deeper into the estate, high-society elites practically tripped over themselves to greet him.

"Caspian, it's been too long."

Caspian offered nothing more than brief, arrogant nods. Sizing gazes crawled over my silk dress like physical weight as they watched us step into the grand living room.

Standing right in the dead center of the crowd was a flawlessly groomed, diamond-draped older womanCaspian's stepmother, Jacqueline. Naomi stood right beside her. The exact second Naomi spotted me, she subtly nudged Jacqueline's arm.

The chattering crowd went completely silent. Dozens of heads snapped in our direction.

Jacqueline's face morphed into the exact same twisted expression her son had worn. She delicately arched a perfectly drawn eyebrow, playing a cruel game of ignorance. "And who might this be?"

A few society wives around Jacqueline's age chimed in with sharp, judging tones. "Caspian, Naomi is right here. What are you doing dragging some random woman into this house?"

Caspian's heavy palm rested possessively flat against my lower back. He dropped the bomb with absolute, deadpan indifference. "I swapped her out."

"You aren't a child anymore. Why are you still acting so recklessly?" Jacqueline's face tightened with displeasure. "Do you even know what kind of background this girl has?"

The loaded question dripped with venom. I had zero doubts Jacqueline had already fed every filthy lie about my past to this entire room. The only person kept in the dark was Caspian.

Caspian lowered his head, his warm breath grazing my ear. "Go grab something from the catering spread. I'll find you in a minute."

Jacqueline's paralyzing stare was making my skin crawl. I gave a stiff nod and quickly walked away.

The dessert tables were set up near the massive industrial kitchen, empty of guests.

As I turned the corner, a large hand brutally seized my arm.

I was yanked into the dark kitchen. The heavy steel door slammed shut. The nauseating, suffocating stench of cheap cologne invaded my lungs.

"Hooking up with my brother again?" Cameron's vile, grating laugh echoed in the dark. "Blair, did you completely forget how badly you got played back then?"

Goosebumps erupted violently across my skin. My blood turned to ice water. "Let me go!"

Cameron shoved me against the tiled wall, his fingers digging sadistically into my jawline. "Look at you even prettier than before."

He leaned his face in so close I could smell the rank, sickening stench of stale tobacco and liquor on his breath. "You're so lucky. All your old friends are here tonight. Why don't we have another round?"

I snapped my head away, my voice tight. "Cameron, this is illegal"

He grabbed a brutal fistful of my hair and smashed my head against the hard tilesexactly like he did back then when he pinned me against the bathroom stalls.

"A piece of trailer park trash trying to lecture me about the law? Didn't get stripped down enough last time?"

"Naomi probably still has all those photos of you, doesn't she? Hmm? Want us to leak them to the whole damn world?"

Those agonizing, suffocating memories tore open. I thrashed wildly against his grip. "Cameron, go to hell!"

My resistance only fueled his sick excitement. "Alright, Blair. You want to bet your entire pathetic life against mine? Let's see who dies first."

"A cheap whore who signed a contract and sold her body for a few dollars. Do you really think a high-and-mighty tyrant like Caspian will come rushing to save you?"

Before I could process the words, his hand dropped to unbuckle his belt.

I bit down brutally on my own lip until the sharp metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, desperately digging my nails into the thick muscles of his arms like a wild animal.

Chapter 8

The suffocating weight of the past crashed over me like a tidal wave.

The day before the high school senior prom, I shoved that cheap secondhand dress into my backpack and went to Jacqueline to quit.

She pinched a lit cigar between her manicured fingers, lifting her chin with absolute arrogance. "You took the cash, and now you want to run?"

I threw the debit card straight onto her desk. "I can't do this. I'm out."

She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You actually think doing this means you and Caspian get a happily ever after? Keep dreaming."

That exact same day, Naomi and her rich friends cornered me in the cramped girls' bathroom. They overpowered me instantly, tearing the clothes right off my body.

"So you're the cheap little whore Jacqueline hired?" Naomi stood dead center, her arms crossed, her voice dripping with pure venom. "You wouldn't mind if I snapped a few pictures, right?"

My desperate thrashing meant nothing against their sheer numbers. That summer, when I was only eighteen, every shred of my dignity was shattered against the cold tile floor of that bathroom. Dirty mop water soaked my skin. Their vicious, filthy insults hammered into my skull.

And finally, Cameron degraded me in the most humiliating, sickening way imaginable, leaving his mark right across my face.

My voice was completely shredded, my body bruised and trembling. "I'm calling the cops"

"You dumb trailer park trash. Do you have zero legal common sense?" Cameron laughed maliciously, twisting a fistful of my hair.

"Just getting your face dirty isn't rape. Unless you kill me first, I'm going to make your life a living hell."

The whole incident was entirely buried. Zero evidence. Just another ghost story.

Outside the heavy kitchen door, the party buzzed on. Cameron was completely wasted. He had already shoved the hem of my silk dress all the way up to my waist.

He locked both of my wrists brutally behind my back. My screams were swallowed by the deafening bass of the music outside.

"Get off get the hell off me!" I thrashed wildly, sinking my teeth straight into his shoulder.

Cameron let out a sharp howl of pain and his grip slipped. I bolted for the door.

His reflexes were sickeningly fast. He clamped a fist into my hair and dragged me violently backward. The sheer, ripping agony tore through my scalp, turning my entire vision blinding white.

Blood pounded in my ears. The hatred consumed my chest.

What the hell did I ever do to deserve being ripped apart over and over again? Why were some people just born as pure, unfiltered monsters?

Blindly thrashing, my fingers knocked into the cold, heavy glass of a wine bottle on the prep counter. I gripped it by the neck.

"You cheap trash! So what if I take you?" he spat.

My vision blurred.

I twisted my entire body around, swinging the heavy bottle high into the air, and brought it smashing down onto his skull with every single ounce of strength I had left.

A sharp crack shattered the air. The world went dead silent.

The deafening bass from the party simply vanished. A heavy, sickening thud echoed behind me as Cameron hit the floor. I had no idea how hard I hit him. I couldn't even tell if the dark, sticky liquid soaking through my clothes was Cabernet or blood.

My hands shook violently as I forced the heavy kitchen doors open. Deep red liquid dripped slowly from the jagged glass neck still clutched in my hand, staining the million-dollar Persian rug drop by drop.

I walked out barefoot. Jagged glass shards dug deep into my calves. Fresh blood pooled and ran down my bare legs.

The entire ballroom froze in dead, suffocating silence. Hundreds of eyes locked onto my shredded, blood-soaked figure.

Suddenly, a woman caught sight of Cameron's body bleeding out on the kitchen tiles. "Murder!" Her piercing scream shattered the air.

Total chaos erupted. People shoved me brutally out of the way.

Jacqueline let out an ear-splitting shriek, shoving wildly through the crowd to throw herself at Cameron. "Call 911! My son! Somebody help him!"

The blood drained from my face. My chest hollowed out. A massive, horrifying pool of crimson was rapidly expanding from beneath Cameron's head.

If Cameron died right here, my life was permanently over.

The flashing strobe lights from the ballroom blinded me, sending a wave of violent dizziness straight through my skull. My hollow, dead gaze drifted across the screaming crowd and locked onto Caspian. He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Naomi. His fingers gripped a crumpled, yellowed contract.

At the bottom right corner, staring right back at me, were Jacqueline's and my signatures.

Chapter 9

Jacqueline's entire plan was to make me date Caspian to sabotage his inheritance. Once the corporate shareholders deemed him a liability, he would be legally stripped of the CEO title. From day one, my motive for getting close to him was incredibly dirty. Even if I genuinely fell for him later.

That piece of paper was a death sentence we could never survive.

Caspian held the yellowed contract out to me. His voice was dead flat. "Is this your signature?"

"Yes." I roughly wiped the cold sweat and tangled hair out of my eyes. "I'm sorry."

Caspian let out a hollow, suffocating laugh. He pulled out his phone, punched in a number, and spoke with zero inflection.

"911? I need to report a crime