The first time Sylvia Bennett stepped into Voss Tower as an employee, she wore white.
Not soft white. Not innocent white.
Predatory white.
The tailored sheath dress hugged her frame like a promise and a threat, the neckline modest, the hem precisely two inches above her knee—just enough to make men underestimate her and women dismiss her. She paired it with nude Louboutins she couldn’t technically afford anymore and a diamond bracelet that had once belonged to her mother.
Let them think she was clinging to scraps of a dead dynasty.
Let them think she was desperate.
The marble lobby gleamed beneath cathedral-high ceilings, the Voss insignia embossed in gold across the far wall. Wealth radiated from every polished surface. Power pulsed through the building like a second heartbeat.
Kai Voss’s heartbeat.
Sylvia didn’t pause. Didn’t gawk.
But she felt it.
The weight of surveillance cameras. The invisible eyes tracking her movements. The hum of a system designed to control everything inside it.
Including her.
A receptionist with flawless makeup offered a corporate smile. “Ms. Bennett? Mr. Voss is expecting you.”
Of course he was.
Sylvia returned the smile, sweet and calculated. “I’d hate to disappoint him.”
The elevator ride to the executive floors was silent except for the faint thrum of rising altitude. Her reflection stared back at her in the mirrored walls—cool blue eyes, perfect posture, lips curved in a subtle, ambitious smile.
A mask.
Always a mask.
The doors slid open to reveal a corridor lined with glass offices. Employees glanced up from their desks as she passed, curiosity flickering in their gazes.
They all knew.
The fallen heiress. The scandal. The mysterious death of Richard and Eleanor Bennett. The overnight collapse of Bennett Holdings after an aggressive acquisition spearheaded by Voss Group.
They didn’t know the truth.
But they sensed blood.
Kai’s assistant led her into the lion’s den.
His office occupied the entire corner of the floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed Los Angeles in glittering sunlight—Hollywood Hills in the distance, the Pacific stretching endless and blue. The view of a king surveying his kingdom.
Kai stood near the windows, his back to her.
Dark suit. Perfect tailoring. Shoulders broad and immovable. The city looked small beneath him.
“Mr. Voss,” Sylvia said lightly.
He turned.
And God, she hated that he was beautiful.
Sharp cheekbones. Cold eyes the color of storm clouds before they split open. Dark hair styled with effortless precision. He looked like the kind of man who didn’t just break rules—he rewrote them.
“Ms. Bennett.” His gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate. Not appreciative. Assessing.
Weighing.
Judging.
“I wasn’t sure you’d actually accept the offer,” he continued, voice smooth as silk dragged over glass. “Corporate life can be… tedious.”
She tilted her head. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“I doubt that.”
A beat.
The air tightened.
He moved toward his desk, every step unhurried. Controlled. “Your position will be with our subsidiary, Voss Biotech. Administrative support. Low clearance.”
Low clearance.
Translation: You’ll see nothing important.
She smiled brighter. “I’m just grateful for the opportunity.”
He stopped inches from her.
Too close.
His scent—dark, expensive, intoxicating—wrapped around her senses. She refused to step back.
“I value loyalty,” he murmured. “Betrayal is… inefficient.”
Her pulse didn’t falter. “I’m sure you eliminate inefficiencies swiftly.”
A flicker in his eyes.
Amusement?
Or warning?
“Very.”
Silence stretched between them, taut and electric.
Sylvia forced herself to look impressed instead of furious. This man had orchestrated the financial ruin of her family. He had cornered her father into signing documents that destroyed Bennett Holdings, then watched as the scandal swallowed them whole.
And when her parents died in that suspicious car crash weeks later?
Kai Voss had sent flowers.
White lilies.
Condolences written in impeccable handwriting.
Monster.
“Your desk will be on the twenty-third floor,” he said finally. “Report to HR.”
Dismissed.
She inclined her head. “Thank you, Mr. Voss.”
As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.
“Ms. Bennett.”
She glanced back.
“If you’re going to hunt,” he said softly, “learn to hide your teeth.”
Ice flooded her veins.
Did he know?
No.
He couldn’t.
She let out a light laugh. “I don’t bite, Mr. Voss.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Everyone bites.”
—
Her position at Voss Biotech was exactly as insulting as promised.
Paperwork. Scheduling. Filing.
Busywork designed to keep her hands occupied and her mind dulled.
Sylvia played the part flawlessly.
She flirted with interns. Complained about coffee. Asked harmless questions about company operations. Laughed a little too loud.
The greedy socialite clawing her way back into luxury.
Inside, she memorized everything.
Employee hierarchies. Security protocols. Internal messaging systems.
And she waited.
Miles Carter approached her on the fourth day.
She was seated alone at a quiet café three blocks from Voss Tower, stirring her espresso without drinking it when a shadow fell across her table.
“Mind if I join you?”
She looked up.
Miles Carter was the golden boy of Carter Industries—Kai’s most vocal competitor. Blond hair, sharp suit, smile engineered for boardrooms and charity galas.
Public enemy number two.
“Depends,” she said coolly. “Are you selling something?”
He chuckled and slid into the chair opposite her. “Information.”
She didn’t react.
“I know why you’re here,” he continued.
Her hand stilled on the spoon.
“Do you?” she asked lightly.