Chapter 1

Amelia

"Miss Thorne?"

Clara’s sharp voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I paused, clutching my tablet to my chest, and looked back at her. "What is it?"

"Mr Rhodes’ security team just cleared the VIP corridor," she whispered, her eyes wide as she tapped her earpiece. "His lawyers are waiting upstairs in Suite 402. They want the lead manager right now."

My heart did a sharp drop. Lucian Rhodes.

He was the most powerful—and dangerous—man in the city—a billionaire chairman who could ruin companies with a single phone call. If I managed to land this contract for our firm, the money would finally pay off the crushing debt my parents were drowning in.

I’m on my way," I said, fixing my blazer before heading up the private stairs.

As I walked down the carpeted hallway, my fingers went straight to the silver charm around my neck. It was a habit I’d had for five years whenever my anxiety spiked.

Five years of working double shifts, raising my son alone, and burying a night I never wanted to remember.

I took a breath, squared my shoulders, and pushed open the doors to Suite 402.

"Mr Rhodes? I’m Amelia Thorne, lead manager for—"

The rest of my sentence died in my throat.

Standing by the glass window, holding a glass of whiskey as he looked over the city skyline, was a tall man in a charcoal suit.

He turned around.

His jaw was hard, shadowed with dark stubble, and his face was carved out of pure stone. But it was his eyes—dark, cold, and heavy—that hit me like a magnetic blow.

My knees went weak. I had to grab the doorframe just to keep from falling.

No. It can't be him.

The room dissolved around me. Five years of my life vanished in a single heartbeat, dragging me right back to the night that ruined everything.

*

Five Years Ago

"To surviving four years of hell and zero sleep!"

Maya smashed her plastic cup against mine, cheap punch splashing over my hands in the packed club.

"I still can't believe we graduated!" Sarah yelled over the bass. "Where’s Carter? He said he was grabbing drinks ten minutes ago."

"He texted me," I said, checking my phone with a smile. "He’s waiting upstairs in the lounge."

I made my way through the crowd and up the stairs, eager to see Carter—my boyfriend of three years.

He had promised that once we graduated, we’d move in together and build a real life.

The hallway upstairs was quiet. The door to the private suite was open just an inch, letting a strip of light hit the floor.

I reached for the handle, but stopped dead in my tracks.

“Carter... slow down..."

A girl's voice.

My breath hitched. I pushed the door open slightly.

Carter had a blonde pinned against the couch, his hands in her hair, kissing her like he was starving.

"What if Amelia comes up?" she gasped.

Carter chuckled against her neck. "Forget her. She’s boring anyway."

Boring.

The word felt like a slap to the face. Tears flooded my eyes as I backed away, turned around, and ran down the stairs into the crowd.

Ten minutes later, I slammed my third shot glass onto the bar. I ignored my phone buzzing with Carter’s texts and slammed it face down.

"Another one," I told the bartender.

"Pour it," a deep voice commanded from the stool beside me.

I glanced over.

Even through the dim club lights, he stood out. He wore a dark suit that screamed money. His jaw was sharp, and his dark eyes had a stillness that made everything else in the noisy bar disappear. He slid a stack of hundred-dollar bills across the counter without looking at the bartender.

"Celebrating?" he asked, his voice low.

"Drowning a disaster," I choked out, wiping my eyes. "To men who lie."

A faint, hard smirk touched his mouth. "To bad decisions."

He leaned closer, smelling like sandalwood and rain. His hand reached out, his fingers lightly touching my neck, his thumb resting over my pulse.

"Come upstairs," he whispered against my ear.

And right then—numb, broken, and desperate to erase Carter’s words—I didn't say no.

Upstairs in the pitch-black hotel suite, he took me with a fierce intensity that made me forget everything. But when morning came, I woke up to an empty bed.

On the nightstand sat a glass of water, two pain relievers, and a stack of cash left behind like I was a transaction.

——

Present Day

The faint scent of sandalwood filled the room, pulling me back to reality.

"Miss Thorne?"

Lucian stood a few feet away, scanning my pale face. He didn't look at me like he remembered me. He looked at me like a businessman looking at an employee.

He had no idea who I was. To him, the girl from that hotel room was a nobody he forgot years ago. I was just an event planner who looked like she was about to faint.

"Are you always this nervous when meeting clients?" he asked, his tone smooth and cold.

"My apologies, Mr Rhodes," I forced out, gripping my tablet until my knuckles turned white. "I was just caught off guard."

"Good. Because we aren't here to discuss the gala," Lucian said. He picked up a leather folder from the desk and slid it across the glass toward me. "My legal team picked you specifically, Amelia."

I swallowed hard and took a step closer. "Picked me for what?"

Lucian looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

"A contract marriage."

The air left my lungs.

He wanted me to be his wife—and he had no clue that his four-year-old twin was waiting for me at home.