LOGINHARVEYI read the name and felt nothing, that's what I told myself. Nothing.Isabel Queens means nothing to me. The night meant nothing. Her body beneath mine, her voice breaking on my name, the way she looked at me like I was dangerous and she wanted it anyway—all of it means nothing.I close the folder and stand, moving to the window with deliberate, controlled steps. My reflection stares back at me in the glass—jaw tight, eyes cold, every inch the ruthless businessman who's built an empire on other people's failures. This is who I am. This is who I've always been.Cold, calculating and in control.Isabel Queens is just another deal, another transaction. The fact that I've fucked her is irrelevant and meaningless. A detail that has no bearing on the business decision ahead except my hands are shaking.I stare down at them, watching the slight tremor I can't quite suppress. Unacceptable.I clench them into fists, forcing them still through sheer will.This is unacceptable. I don't ge
MARCOI read the proposal three times not because I needed to but I absorbed all the relevant information on the first pass—Queens Enterprises is solid, the fundamentals are strong, the expansion plan is smart, the projections are conservative but realistic.I read it three times because I'm stalling.Isabel Queens.The name stares back at me from the cover page, and I can't stop looking at it. I can't stop my mind from connecting the dots between the woman in the bar and the heiress who walked away from billions.I close the folder and open my laptop, my fingers moving with mechanical precision across the keyboard.I need information, data and facts. Something concrete to replace the chaos of emotions threatening to break through my carefully maintained walls.I pull up every piece of information I can find on her.Isabel Marie Queens. Born March 15, 1995. Daughter of Richard Queens, CEO of Queens Enterprises. Heiress to a fortune estimated at over two billion dollars.Yale graduate.
ARESI stare at the folder like it might explode. Isabel Queens.The name sits there, innocuous black ink on white paper, and my world tilts sideways.My hands are shaking, actually shaking and I flatten my palms against the conference table, trying to steady them, but it doesn't help because nothing helps."I need to make a call," I say abruptly while standing. My chair scrapes back too loudly in the sudden silence. "Before the meeting."Marco doesn't look up from his own copy of the proposal. His eyes are fixed on the pages, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the white-knuckled grip he has on the folder."Fine, but be back in thirty."Harvey says nothing, his eyes fixed on something in the middle distance. His jaw is so tight I can see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.They know, they both fucking know but we're not talking about it. Not yet and maybe not ever.I escape to my office, closing the door and leaning against it. My heart hammers against my ribs so hard I can
ARESMonday morning, we're all in the conference room for our weekly meeting.Harvey looks like death. Marco's got that brittle control that means he's one wrong word away from snapping and I feel like I haven't slept properly in a week because I haven't.The conference room is too bright, the morning sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and making my eyes ache. My coffee tastes like ash. Everything feels off-kilter, like the world has tilted slightly on its axis and I'm the only one who's noticed.Except I'm not the only one. I can see it in the tension in Harvey's shoulders, the tight line of Marco's jaw. We're all barely holding it together, and we all know it. We just won't admit it."Singapore's out," Harvey says without preamble, tossing a folder onto the conference table with more force than necessary. "They went with Morgan Stanley instead.""Fuck," Marco mutters, running a hand through his hair. It's already disheveled, which means he's been doing that a lot thi
HARVEYI don't sleep anymore. I lie in the dark, eyes open, jaw clenched so tight my teeth ache.Every time I close my eyes, she's there.Isabel. On her knees, beneath me, riding me, her pussy tight and wet and perfect, her nails in my skin, her voice breaking on my name as she came. It's driving me insane.I've had hundreds of women. Maybe thousands—I stopped counting years ago. Sex is a transaction, a need met, then forgotten. I've never had trouble moving on, never looked back, never given a shit about anyone beyond the physical act but Isabel—"Fuck," I growl into the darkness.My cock is hard again and I ignore it.I've been ignoring it all week, refusing to give in to this weakness because that's what it is—weakness. Some woman I spent one night with shouldn't be taking up residence in my head, shouldn't be haunting my dreams, shouldn't be making me hard just thinking about the way she said my name.I throw back the covers and stalk to the bathroom, my bare feet silent on the ha
MARCOI lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind refusing to shut down. It is 2:47 AM. I've been lying here for three hours.Beside me, my phone glows with unanswered emails and pending contracts and a dozen fires that need putting out. I should get up. I should work. I should do literally anything productive but instead, I'm thinking about her.Isabel.The name rolls through my mind like a prayer or a curse—I can't decide which.I have rules. Strict, unbreakable rules that have kept me functional and successful for thirty-five years. Never mix business with pleasure, never get attached and never let anyone close enough to hurt you.Sex is mechanical. Pleasurable, sure, but ultimately meaningless. A physical need met and then forgotten except I can't forget her.I remember everything. The way she tasted—sweet and desperate and real. The sounds she made when I touched her. The vulnerability in her eyes when she admitted what her husband had done, mixed with the fire that said she'd
ISABELHe's gone.My husband of three years is actually gone. I sit there on the bed, processing, and then suddenly I'm shaking. Not from fear or sadness, but from the sheer adrenaline crash."Hey," Ares says gently, his hand on my shoulder. "You're okay. You're safe now.""I know," I manage to say
ISABELThe flowers arrive Monday morning.Not a simple bouquet but an extravagant explosion of white roses, peonies, and orchids in a crystal vase that probably costs more than my monthly car payment. The card is simple:Congratulations on the board approval. Looking forward to our partnership. - A
ISABELMonday morning, I walk into Queens Enterprises for the first time in three years, and it feels like coming home and walking into enemy territory together.The building is exactly as I remember it: sleek glass and steel, modern and imposing. However, everything inside has changed. Different r
ISABELThe Queens family estate looks exactly as I remember it, imposing, elegant, and cold as fuck.I sit in my car at the end of the long driveway, staring at the grand mansion that was my childhood home. Three years ago, I drove away from this place swearing I'd never come back. I'd chosen Leo o







