The Enemy Across the Room

Chapter 1

(Sophia's POV)

The crystal chandelier above the Grand Ballroom feels like a guillotine waiting to drop.

I stand at the edge of the gala with a glass of champagne I have no intention of drinking, my fingers clenched so tightly around the stem I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered. Across the room, "he" holds court like he already owns the city.

Alexander Voss.

My enemy. My nightmare. The man whose family destroyed mine twice and still smiles like the world owes him everything.

He’s taller than I remember, broader, dressed in a black Tom Ford tuxedo that probably costs more than my entire quarterly marketing budget. His dark hair is perfectly styled, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, and those storm-gray eyes… they find me the second I step into his line of sight.

Our gazes lock.

The air between us crackles with fifteen years of pure, venomous hatred.

I don’t look away, I never do.

Not after what his father did to mine.

The memory hits me like it always does, sharp, merciless.

I was thirteen. Standing on the cold courthouse steps in December rain while my father, Henri Laurent, clutched his chest and collapsed right in front of me. The paramedics said heart attack. I knew better. It was the final blow after Reginald Voss forged my father’s signature, stole Laurent Tower, and left us with nothing but debt and shame. Voss Residences now stands where my father’s dream once lived. Every time I drive past that glittering monstrosity on Fifth Avenue, I taste bile.

And that was only the first time the Voss family killed mine.

Ten years ago they finished the job.

I force the second memory down before it can choke me. Not here. Not tonight.

“Sophia Laurent,” a deep, mocking voice drawls behind me. “Still pretending you belong in rooms like this?”

I turn slowly, heart hammering with rage and something darker I refuse to name.

Xander stands less than three feet away, champagne in hand, looking at me like I’m something he wants to ruin and devour at the same time.

“Still pretending your empire isn’t built on stolen blood and lies?” I reply, voice ice-cold. “How does it feel knowing every floor of Voss Tower sits on my father’s grave?”

His jaw tightens. Good. I want it to hurt.

“You’re as dramatic as ever,” he says, stepping closer. The scent of his cologne; wood, spice, and pure arrogance wraps around me. “Laurent Luxe is bleeding out, Sophia. My team just outbid you on Elysium Tower by thirty-eight million. Again.”

My stomach drops, but I keep my mask frozen in place.

Elysium Tower is supposed to be mine. The flagship store on the lower levels would have single-handedly saved Laurent Luxe. Instead, Voss Global wants to turn it into another soulless luxury condo playground for people who’ve never known what it’s like to lose everything.

“You’ll never win this one,” I whisper, stepping even closer until the heat of his body brushes mine. “I will burn your entire empire down before I let you touch that project.”

His gaze drops to my mouth for half a second. Then those gray eyes darken with something that looks dangerously like lust and fury twisted together.

“Careful,” he murmurs, voice low enough that only I can hear. “Keep talking like that and people might think you’re obsessed with me.”

“Obsessed with destroying you,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”

A sleek woman in a red gown appears at his side, his latest arm candy, no doubt. She gives me a dismissive look. Xander doesn’t even glance at her. His attention stays locked on me like a predator who’s finally cornered its prey.

Before either of us can fire the next shot, my assistant, Lila, rushes up, face pale.

“Sophia,” she whispers urgently, “we have a problem. The board just received an emergency notice. Phoenix Holdings, the Chinese conglomerate, is launching a hostile takeover on both our companies. They want to merge us under their control or liquidate everything.”

The floor tilts beneath my Louboutins.

No. Not now. Not when I’m this close to clawing my way back.

Xander’s expression doesn’t change, but I catch the flicker in his eyes. He already knew.

Of course he did.

“And the only way to block it?” Lila continues, voice shaking, “is a temporary merger. A very public one. They’re demanding… marriage. Between the two CEOs. For at least one year. Iron-clad. Otherwise, they move in forty-eight hours.”

The champagne glass slips from my fingers and shatters on the marble floor.

Marriage.

To him.

I look up at Xander Voss, the man whose family murdered my father twice over, and feel the world crack open beneath me.

His lips curve into the coldest, most dangerous smile I’ve ever seen.

“Well, darling,” he says softly, voice dripping with dark promise, “looks like you’re about to become Mrs. Alexander Voss.”