8:00 p.m.
The Crescent Hotel rooftop glowed like a seduction.
Manhattan’s skyline stretched in every direction, sharp and glittering against the velvet night. String lights were woven through glass railings. Low music pulsed from hidden speakers. Wealth and discretion hung in the air like perfume.
I shouldn’t be here.
Dylan had a late emergency board meeting. He’d kissed my forehead before leaving, distracted and tense, murmuring something about “damage control.”
I told him I’d stay home.
Instead, I stepped out of the elevator and into enemy territory.
Adrian Vale stood near the edge of the rooftop, hands in his pockets, wind tugging at his dark hair. He didn’t turn when I approached.
“You’re late,” he said calmly.
“I’m right on time.”
He checked his watch. “Seven minutes.”
“You’re insufferable.”
A faint smirk touched his mouth. “And yet, you came.”
I crossed my arms. “Say what you have to say.”
He turned then.
Up close, he looked even more composed than usual. Black suit. Crisp white shirt. No tie. Effortlessly lethal.
“I’m surprised,” he said quietly. “Most women in your position would stay loyal.”
“To what?” I shot back. “Blind faith?”
“To their fiancé.”
I held his gaze. “You said Dylan was hiding something.”
“He is.”
“That’s vague.”
“It’s intentional.”
Frustration sparked in my chest. “If this is just another manipulation tactic—”
“It’s not.” His voice cut through mine, sharp and controlled. “Your fiancé is insolvent.”
The word slammed into me.
“That’s not true.”
“He’s leveraged future projections to secure short-term capital. He’s bleeding liquidity.”
“You’re trying to scare me.”
“No,” Adrian said evenly. “I’m trying to protect my investment.”
My jaw tightened. “I’m not an investment.”
“Everything is an investment.”
The coldness in his tone should’ve chilled me.
Instead, it grounded me.
“Why tell me?” I demanded.
“Because when this collapses, you’ll be collateral damage.”
I laughed bitterly. “You sound very concerned.”
His eyes flickered—something darker moving beneath the surface. “I don’t enjoy unnecessary casualties.”
“You’re launching a hostile takeover.”
“That’s business.”
“And this?” I gestured between us. “Is this business too?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
The lie was almost convincing.
“Then give me proof,” I said.
He studied me carefully.
“You won’t like it.”
“Try me.”
Adrian pulled out his phone and tapped the screen before handing it to me.
Confidential financial projections filled the display. Debt ratios. Liquidity warnings. Internal memos.
My stomach twisted.
“This is fabricated.”
“It’s audited.”
I scanned the documents again, pulse racing.
“Even if this is real,” I said shakily, “he can recover.”
“Not at the scale he’s operating.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know numbers.”
His gaze softened just slightly.
“And I know desperation.”
The word landed heavier than it should have.
“What are you implying?”
“That when men are desperate, they make ruthless decisions.”
My throat went dry.
“Like what?”
“Like marrying into stability.”
The world tilted.
“You think Dylan is with me for money?”
“I think Dylan Ford doesn’t do anything without a strategy.”
Rage flared through me. “You don’t know our relationship.”
Adrian stepped closer.
Close enough that I could feel his body heat.
“I know he accelerated your engagement after his first acquisition failed.”
My heart skipped.
“That’s a coincidence.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he move the wedding date up by six months?”
I froze.
“How do you know that?”
“I research my opponents.”
“I’m not your opponent.”
His gaze dipped to my mouth for half a second before returning to my eyes.
“You’re the deciding factor.”
The air between us thickened.
“You’re insane,” I whispered.
“Maybe.”
He reached past me suddenly, bracing one hand against the glass railing behind my shoulder.
I was caged.
Not touched.
But surrounded.
“Ask him,” Adrian murmured. “Ask Dylan how much of his expansion was secured against your inheritance.”
Ice flooded my veins.
“That’s not possible.”
“Isn’t it?”
“My trust is separate.”
“For now.”
The implication hit like a punch.
“If you’re lying—”