The Wicked Bargain

Chapter 2: The Wicked Bargain

The air in the room instantly vanished.

My heart slammed against my ribs so violently I was sure he could hear it. Julian Vance. The legendary, reclusive titan of the Vance empire. The man who made wall street bankers weep and brought multinational corporations to their knees.

And the man whose silver-gray eyes had stared down into mine in the shadows of an underground bar while his hands mapped every inch of my bare skin.

"You're... Marcus’s uncle," I breathed, my voice barely a raspy whisper. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to step back, but my legs felt glued to the plush carpet.

Julian didn't back away. If anything, he leaned closer, his warm, sandalwood-scented breath caressing the sensitive skin right beneath my ear.

"Fiancé’s uncle, Elena," he corrected smoothly, his deep baritone vibrating through my blood like a low frequency. "Or should I say ex-fiancé?"

My eyes snapped to his. "You know?"

Julian let out a quiet, dark laugh. He straightened up, turning back to his massive walnut desk and picking up a sleek black tablet. With a flick of his thumb, he illuminated the screen and turned it toward me.

My breath hitched.

Displayed on the high-definition screen were the exact photos I had taken last night—Marcus and Chloe tangled against the window of the St. Regis suite.

"I run an empire worth billions, little bird," Julian said, resting his hip against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The fabric of his bespoke black suit stretched tightly over his shoulders. "Nothing happens in my family—or in my hotels—without my knowledge. The moment my spineless nephew tried to pull a stunt like that under my roof, my security team flagged it. You were remarkably composed, by the way. Most women would have cried. You just took evidence."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my shoulders back. I had to pull myself together. The woman who stood in this room couldn't be the trembling girl from last night. I needed something from him, and showing weakness to a shark like Julian Vance was fatal.

"If you already know Marcus is a lying cheat, then you know why I'm here," I said, my voice hardening. "I need the funding extension for my father's firm, Lorden Enterprises. Marcus threatened to use Vance Global's leverage to pull our capital by noon today. He's trying to starve us into compliance so I won't leak those photos."

Julian listened, his silver eyes cold and unreadable. He raised one hand, tilting his head slightly. "And why should I care about your father’s failing company?"

The blunt cruelty of his words hit like a physical slap, but I refused to flinch.

"Because my father’s technology patents are the only thing keeping your main competitor from taking over the European market," I countered, taking a confident step toward him. "If Marcus liquidates Lorden Enterprises out of spite, you lose those patents. Your competitor buys them at auction. You take a fifteen-percent hit on your Q3 projections. You're too smart of a businessman to let a petty personal vendetta ruin a profitable strategic asset."

For three long seconds, complete silence hung over the executive suite.

Then, a slow, lethal smile spread across Julian’s face. It wasn't warm; it was the look of a predator who had just found a creature strong enough to make the hunt interesting.

"Sharp," he murmured, his eyes sweeping down my tailored blazer to my high heels, acknowledging the shift in my posture. "Beautiful, reckless, and sharp as a razor. You really are wasted on a boy like Marcus."

"I don't need your compliments, Mr. Vance. I need your signature on the extension."

Julian pushed off the desk and began walking slowly toward me. Each step was measured, deliberate, and terrifying. The power radiating off him filled every inch of the massive room, pinning me in place as he closed the distance until there were only inches separating us.

"You came into my bar last night looking for a weapon to destroy your past," Julian said softly, reaching out. His index finger caught a loose strand of my dark hair, tucking it gently behind my ear. His fingers brushed the warm skin of my neck, and a sharp electric charge shot down my spine. "You surrendered yourself to a stranger just to feel alive again."

My breath caught in my throat. My pulse hit absolute overdrive. "That was a mistake."

"Was it?" He tilted his head, his silver eyes searching mine with a terrifying intensity. "You didn't scream like it was a mistake last night, Elena."

My cheeks flushed bright crimson. The vivid memory of his mouth on mine, of his large hands gripping my waist in the dark booth, flashed through my mind like a fever dream.

"That was before I knew who you were," I stammered, trying desperately to keep my voice steady. "This is business."

"Everything is business," Julian purred. He stepped closer, his chest pressing lightly against mine. He was so tall I had to tilt my head back just to look into his face. "So let's talk about the deal."

He reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a thick, leather-bound folder, and dropped it onto the glass coffee table beside us.

"What is that?" I asked, frowning.

"That," Julian said, his voice dropping into a hypnotic, dangerous murmur, "is the salvation of Lorden Enterprises. Full funding. A fifty-million-dollar credit line. Complete immunity from Marcus’s reach. My personal guarantee that your father’s company will not only survive, but dominate the market for the next decade."

My eyes widened. It was more than I could have ever prayed for. It was everything my father had worked his entire life to build, saved with a single swipe of a pen.

"What's the catch?" I asked immediately. A man like Julian Vance gave nothing away for free.

Julian's hand moved from my jaw down to my collarbone, his thumb resting lightly against the racing pulse in my throat. The heat of his touch was maddening, distracting me from every rational thought.

"The catch is simple," he whispered, his eyes locking onto my lips. "Marcus thinks he can play games. He thinks he can use women, steal assets, and inherit my throne without earning it. He needs to be taught a lesson in absolute ruin."

"And how do I fit into that?"

Julian slid his hand down to my waist, pulling me flush against his hard, muscular body. I gasped, my hands instinctively pressing against his broad chest to steady myself. Through his silk shirt, I could feel the rigid muscle beneath, the steady, heavy beat of his heart.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke, his voice thick with a dark, intoxicating command.

"You don't just sign a business deal with me, Elena," he whispered into my mouth. "You sign a marriage contract."

My heart stopped. "What?"

"Marry me," Julian ordered softly. "Become my wife. Put my ring on your finger and walk into the Vance family gala next weekend on my arm. Become his aunt."

The sheer audacity of the proposal left me speechless. Marry him? The uncle of the man who had just crushed my heart? The thought was insane. It was scandalous. It would blow the city's high society wide open and completely humiliate Marcus in front of the entire world.

"You're crazy," I breathed, though my heart was hammering with a sudden, dirty thrill at the thought of Marcus's face when he saw us together.

"I'm practical," Julian corrected, his grip on my waist tightening, dragging me closer until there wasn't a sliver of air between us. "Marcus will be stripped of his inheritance the moment I take a wife. You get your father's company saved, you get ultimate revenge on the man who betrayed you, and I get..."

He paused, his eyes darkening to a shade of stormy gray that made my blood burn hot.

"What do you get?" I asked, barely able to find my voice.

Julian’s thumb traced my lower lip, pulling it down slightly before his mouth dipped down, brushing a hot, lingering kiss against the corner of my lips that sent a shudder straight down to my thighs.

"I get you," he growled low in his throat. "In my bed. In my life. Bound to me in every way that matters."

"This... this would be a fake marriage," I choked out, trying to cling to the last shred of my sanity. "A arrangement."

Julian pulled back just enough to look me dead in the eyes, a dark, dangerous smirk spreading across his handsome face.

"The contract might be fake, little bird," he whispered, his hand sliding down to curve over the side of my hip, pressing me into him so I could feel the hard evidence of his desire. "But what happens behind locked doors when we're alone? That will be very, very real."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a sleek Montblanc pen, and held it out to me.

"The choice is yours, Elena. Walk out that door and let Marcus ruin your family... or sign the paper, take my name, and let's burn his world to the ground together."

I stared at the pen in his hand. My chest heaved. My pulse raged.

I looked up into the silver eyes of the ultimate devil—and reached out my hand.