Chapter 2 A Woman Out for Revenge

One year later.

Alexia Hartley was a beautiful woman, and she knew it. But more than that, she was determined, strong, and ready to tear down anything in her path. For one simple reason: she had lost everything, and she was here to take it all back.

That's why she'd spent the past year preparing—carefully weaving every thread needed to land her position as a financial analyst at Hamilton Holding Enterprise, better known as HHE. It was the most powerful tech company in the world, and its owner was the only man Alexia cared about: Scott Hamilton.

Mr. Hamilton was elusive to the point of obsession. He had successfully hidden his face from the media and scrubbed every personal photo and article about him off the internet. Still, everyone who knew him agreed on one thing: he was ruthless, fierce, terrifying…

And Alexia had come to win him over.

She drove her modest Honda SUV through the heart of New York, heading to the HHE headquarters. It was her first day, and she was ready to make a strong impression. But, because life never liked to make things easy for her, of course there was always an idiot ready to mess up her day.

She was just about to slide into one of the two last open parking spots near the elevator when a red Ferrari whipped past her without a care—and parked smack in the middle of both spaces.

Alexia clenched her jaw and got out of the car.

"Excuse me, would you mind parking properly, please?" she asked as politely as she could.

A tall man stepped out of the Ferrari. Blue eyes, perfect physique under a custom-tailored designer suit, and handsome like a damn Greek god. He looked Alexia up and down, and his nose made a small snort, like a predator sizing up its prey.

"There are more spaces at the back," he snapped. "Now get out of my sight."

"The back is 984 feet away!" Alexia growled, boiling with rage. "I'm not walking that far and showing up on my first day of work all sweaty just because you don't know how to park in one damn space!"

The Greek god raised his eyebrows, like he couldn't believe some mere mortal had dared to challenge him.

"Are you crazy, or just pretending? Do you even know who you're talking to?" he hissed, stepping closer. "This car costs twenty times more than your Honda. Do you really think I'd let you park next to it? Please. This is a—"

"Ferrari 488 GBT, V8 engine, 3902 cc displacement, 670 horsepower at 8000 rpm. Goes from 0 to 200 km in 8.3 seconds, and clocks a lap time at Fiorano in one minute, twenty-three seconds," Alexia interrupted, staring him down. Then she looked at the car. "It's nice, but way too flashy. Doesn't suit a magnate. And you? You definitely don't suit it either."

The man looked like he was about to explode.

"You—!"

"If you were half as impressive as you think you are, pretty boy, you'd have bought a car with real balls," she shot back, full of sarcasm. "V12 engine. 800 horsepower at 8500 rpm. 0 to 100 in 2.9 seconds… about as fast as a pretty boy like you finishes. An 812 Superfast."

"That model isn't even on sale yet!" he barked, completely losing his patience.

"Exactly," she replied, flashing a victorious smile.

Alexia smiled wider as she saw his cool expression twist into pure hate in a single second. Sure, she'd have to walk those 984 feet—but that smug jerk would never look down on her again.

She strutted back to her Honda, flipping him the finger as she drove off to find another space.

Twenty minutes later, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and stepped into the office assigned to her.

Apparently, this company didn't think much of analysts. Her office was large but dark and cold. Her desk already had over thirty folders piled on it, and her supervisor, Mr. Garrick, pointed out where to start.

"When will I get to meet Mr. Hamilton?" she asked.

"If you value your mental health, hopefully never," the man replied, and Alexia grimaced.

She tied her hair back into a ponytail and dove straight into her work. For nine straight hours, she didn't budge—until her phone rang.

"Are you okay, Alexandra?" came Howard's worried voice.

"Alexia. Remember, it's Alexia now," she scolded him. "You've had a whole year to get used to it, sweetie. You can't call me Alexandra anymore!"

"I know, I know. I just freaked out when I got home and you weren't there. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just still working," she said. "My supervisor thinks I'm clueless. He gave me some investment portfolios to review that he should've checked himself. But that's a good thing. I think I found something interesting… something that'll get me in front of Scott Hamilton by noon tomorrow."

There was a long, tired sigh on the other end of the line.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Alexan—Alexia?"

"Of course I do! Albert and Claudia tried to kill me, Howard! I'd be dead if I hadn't done what I did—and if you hadn't found me!" she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "I'm going to make them pay for what they did. But to do that, I need the power of the one man who can stand up to Albert Blackwell. The one man he's truly afraid of. And that's Scott Hamilton. I'm going to earn that man's support, Howard—even if it's the last thing I do."