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ttan didn't just fa
rling Empire. A billion-dollar glass-and-steel middle finger pointed directly at her family's legacy. The office around her smelled of old paper, coffee grounds, and the distinct, quiet pani
creen flashed with municipal filings and architectural layouts. "Vane Sterling didn't even wait for the zoning board's final vote. He knows he has
very independent architectural firm in New York, starting with hers. He was cold, calculating, ruthlessly handsome in a bespoke charcoal suit, and possessed an ego large enough to eclipse
f her sharp blazer, her voice dropping into a register of col
r tasted of plaster dust, damp wood, and decades of forgotten applause. Once a magnificent vaudeville house with velvet seating and hand-painted ceiling frescoed cherubs, it was now a hollowed-out shell, caug
Ms. Vance," a low, resonant voice cut th
icked-back hair, and eyes the color of a winter storm. He wore a tailored overcoat thrown casually over a charcoal suit, looking entirely out of pl
oorboards. "This building is a designated landmark, Sterling.
rough the dust in the air. "Grotesque? No, Elena. It's called progress. Look around you. This. In th
ything less than sheer defiance, stepping right into his personal space. "You think because your bank account has nine figure
n of a hunter who had just watched his prey walk willingly into a trap. For a second, his gaze dropped to her mouth before snapping back to h
her pulse hammering against her ribs, though whether from
down just enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. "Because
tric friction. The air left her lungs in a rush as he walked away in
ical preservationists could pretend to smile for the cameras while plotting each other's professional execution. Crystal cha
ing strappy silver heels, her dark hair pinned up with a few stray curls framing her face. She look
h a crystal glass of scotch, noticed the exac
idn't reach her eyes. But society hostesses are ruthless matchmakers of power and fate or rather,
his glass up toward her across the white linen tablecloth. His eyes w
plied flatly, taking a sharp sip of her
ghter, Vane leaned across the mahogany table, invading her airspace. "You look t
w? Her primary financial backer had pulled out of the restoration fund just three hours ago, throwing the firm's
ercely, her eyes blazing with sudden, terr
o that low, gravelly tone that sent an involuntary, furious shiver
anded, her nails digging int
smile spreading across his face. "Come to my private office tomorr
high-end servers and the rain drumming against the floor-to-c
he Manhattan skyline cutting through the glass. Vane wasn't sitting at his imposing executive desk. Instead, he stood by
ng around, as if he had counted d
cts?" Elena demanded, walking further into the room, her
he held up a small, sleek metallic flash drive between his fingers. He started walki
ntracts, Elena,"
ts. "What kind of game are you playi
ce of him filled the room, crowding out the oxygen. His expression wasn't mocking anymore; it was dangerously, unexpectedly raw. "Your in
hroat. The world seemed to tilt
id quietly, his gaze steady, refusing to look away from her shock. "You swore you'd never work with Sterling. You wouldn't return my calls, you wouldn't look at my p
pieces clicked togethererererererer. "You... you manufactured a cor
d, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper. His hand came up slow
how to breathe. Her defenses crumbled for a fraction of a second under the weight of his gaze. "Because the moment I saw you across t
his arrogance, to scream about the sleepless nights he had caused her, but his thumb was warm
ered, her voice trembling
inch between them until his breath mingl
ke expensive scotch, repressed longing, and the inevitable collapse of every high wall she had ever built around her heart. Her

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