Chapter 1

How to Ruin Your Ex-Husband 101

Rule #1: Make him an offer too good to refuse. Get yourself a seat at his table, then get close enough to his empire that he never sees the knife coming.

Rule #2: Take the deal he’s spent years chasing and make him beg you for it.

Rule #3: Whatever you do, make sure he doesn’t recognize you.

Today’s agenda: Rules One and Three.

Rule Two could wait.

After all, a woman had to pace herself when ruining a man’s life. Especially when that man was her ex-husband.

The doors to the Devereaux Holdings boardroom swung open, and Seraphina Voss walked in as though she already owned the place.

In every way that mattered, she intended to.

Her heels clicked against the polished floor. Conversations died one by one as she crossed the room, a leather folder tucked beneath her arm and a smile on her lips that had made considerably wealthier men reconsider their life choices.

She looked at none of them. Not the executives lining the long mahogany table. Not the assistants arranging documents near the windows. Not even the man seated at the head of the table.

Especially not him.

Cassian Devereaux.

It had been five years since the fire. More accurately, five years, seven months, and however many days she had kept track of on her calendar. Five years since she’d last stood in the same room as the man who had once been her husband. Five years since her marriage had crumbled, her family had been destroyed, and Angelica Vale had become a name the world associated with tragedy.

And now, after all that time, the first thing standing between them was a three-hundred-million-dollar contract.

How romantic.

She’d imagined this moment a thousand different ways.

In some versions, she’d screamed at him until her throat gave out. In others, she’d thrown a glass of whiskey into his infuriatingly handsome face and demanded to know how he slept at night.

Once, during a particularly miserable night, she’d imagined walking into his office, slamming the door, and making him listen to every word he’d spent five years avoiding.

She’d been twenty-three then.

Five years had taught her many things.

Patience.

Discipline.

The value of a well-timed corporate acquisition.

And, most importantly, that revenge was considerably more satisfying when the target didn’t know he was being hunted.

So she smiled.

The same polished, perfectly measured smile she wore when she was about to take something valuable from someone who believed it was safely out of reach.

“Mr. Devereaux.”

Cassian lifted his eyes from the documents in front of him.

Their gazes met, and for one suffocating second, the room disappeared.

There was only him.

The familiar shape of his face. The eyes she had once looked into for reassurance.

Her heart gave one hard, treacherous beat.

Seraphina crushed the feeling before it could become anything more. She felt absolutely nothing. That was the lie she intended to keep telling herself until it became true.

Cassian broke the silence first.

“Ms. Voss.”

His voice was deeper than she remembered. Or perhaps five years of trying to forget it had done something unfortunate to her memory. Either way, she refused to let his voice derail her.

She took the seat opposite him and placed her folder on the table.

“Thank you for making time for me.”

“I didn’t.”

An executive beside him coughed into his fist. Cassian didn’t spare him a glance.

“I was informed this meeting couldn’t be rescheduled.”

Seraphina’s smile remained fixed. “How diplomatic. You could’ve simply said you didn’t want to see me.”

“I don’t.”

His curt reply didn’t faze her. Instead, it assured her that he was still an arrogant bastard. She still knew him well enough. She needed that knowledge to destroy him.

For a moment, she was almost relieved. It would have been deeply inconvenient if five years had transformed him into someone she couldn’t predict.

“Wonderful,” she said, opening her folder. “Then we can skip the pleasantries and get straight to the part where I make you an offer you can’t afford to refuse.”

That earned her his attention. At last.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a searching gaze. His eyes traveled over her face, her tailored black suit, and the diamond earrings glinting beneath her hair. His gaze paused briefly at the watch on her wrist before returning to her eyes.

Seraphina let him look.

He saw what she had carefully constructed for him to see.

Seraphina Voss. CEO of Voss Holdings. Her portfolio spoke for itself. On paper, she was a woman whose company had grown by thirty percent in the three years since she had been appointed CEO and whose reputation had been built on acquiring struggling businesses, whipping them into shape, and turning them into market threats.

He saw a stranger. He saw no trace of the woman who had once worn his surname. She had made sure of that.

Her new face had taken months of painful treatment and reconstructive procedures to achieve. Even then, the doctors had never promised perfection. The woman she had become was not Angelica 2.0.

She had worked tirelessly to ensure she was not just an old version of herself. She had practiced how to carry herself differently, how to control her expressions, and how to make sure nobody had a reason to look too closely. The years that had passed had been of invaluable help as well.

Angelica had once looked at Cassian as though he held the answers to every question in her life.

Seraphina looked at him as though he were just another acquisition she had to conquer.

“Three hundred million dollars is a considerable amount of money,” Cassian said.

Seraphina rolled her pen between her fingers.

“So is the amount your empire stands to lose if you turn me down.”

One of the executives shifted in his chair. Cassian, on the other hand, remained perfectly still.

“You’re asking Devereaux Holdings to partner with a competitor we’ve spent the last two years trying to push out of the market.”

“I’m asking you to make a profitable decision.”

“We have other options.”

“Of course you do.”

She turned a page in the contract.

“Less profitable options, apparently. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have agreed to this meeting.”

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. There it was.

The smallest crack in that immaculate composure.

Seraphina wanted to frame it.

“And what exactly makes you think Voss Holdings is interested in helping us?” he asked.

“Because I’m a businesswoman, Mr. Devereaux. Not a charity.”

“Then you’ll understand why I need more than an attractive proposal before committing three hundred million dollars.”

“Naturally.”

She slid a document across the table.

“Projected returns. Market analysis. Distribution agreements. The acquisition strategy your team has been struggling to finalize for eighteen months. I’ve included a risk assessment, too, since I assume you prefer your inadequacies itemized.”

A few executives exchanged passing looks at her statement. Cassian picked up the document, and she watched him read it.

The slight narrowing of his eyes told her exactly when he reached the projected returns. The brief pause at the distribution figures told her he’d already spotted the advantage. By the time he reached the final page, his expression had changed from indifference to reluctant interest.

It was beautiful.

All that money, all that influence, all that power.

And yet, he was still going to need her. She had made sure the proposal she offered was one he couldn’t turn down.

“Your proposal assumes we’ll agree to your distribution terms,” he said.

“They’re nonnegotiable.”

“That’s convenient for you.”

“Extremely.”

“And if we refuse?”

Seraphina snapped the folder shut.

“Then I’ll sign the deal with your biggest rival before the sun sets.”

Silence settled over the boardroom, and Cassian’s gaze on her sharpened.

He hated being cornered. She knew that better than anyone. He hated having his options narrowed by someone who refused to be intimidated, and he especially hated discovering that the other person had anticipated his objections before he’d voiced them.

She had no intention of making Cassian Devereaux comfortable by any means.

“I’ll give you forty-eight hours,” she said, rising from her chair.

Cassian looked up at her.

“You’re very confident.”

“I usually am.”

“Why?”

She gathered her folder.

“Because I never make offers I can’t afford to lose.”

His eyes held hers. Something flickered across his face. Interest, perhaps. Irritation. A hint of reluctant admiration.

She knew how easily interest could become obsession in a man like Cassian. He liked puzzles. He liked challenges. And he had always been especially determined to solve anything that refused to yield to him.

Seraphina intended to be the most expensive puzzle he’d ever encountered.

“Forty-eight hours,” he repeated.

“Forty-eight hours.”

She turned toward the doors.

“Ms. Voss.”

She stopped. There was always one more thing with him.

“Yes?”

When she turned back, Cassian was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Have we met before?”

For one terrible heartbeat, the room seemed to tilt.

Her fingers tightened around the handle of her bag.

There it was.

“No.”

The lie came easily, and Cassian continued studying her.

“I didn’t think so.”

“Then why ask?”

His brows drew together slightly.

“I don’t know why I did. I apologize for that, Ms. Voss.”

She didn’t expect the apology. Seraphina forced a polite smile.

“Perhaps I simply have one of those faces.”

“No.”

His answer came too quickly. She waited for him to elaborate.

Cassian seemed almost irritated with himself. His gaze lingered on her for another moment before he looked down at the contract, dismissing her.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Voss.”

She stood there for a fraction of a second, staring at the dark head bent over the documents, then straightened her shoulders.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Devereaux.”

Then she walked out.

⸻

She walked out, the doors clicking shut behind her. Only then did she let the air back into her lungs.

She walked down the corridor without slowing, her heels striking the polished marble floor in a steady, almost militant rhythm. No one followed. No one called her name. No one had called her out for being a living ghost. Exactly as she had planned.

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the lobby. As the doors slid shut, her reflection appeared in the mirrored metal. Shiny blonde hair. Sharp, reconstructed cheekbones. A face that had once belonged to someone else.

She touched her diamond earring. Her hands were perfectly steady. They had been steady for years.

The elevator descended rapidly. Her phone buzzed in her palm.

It was an unsaved number.

She answered, stepping into the back corner.

“Hello?”

“Did you see him?” a familiar voice asked without preamble.

Seraphina watched her reflection in the mirrored doors.

“Unless Devereaux Holdings has started employing holograms, yes.”

“And?”

Seraphina looked at her reflection again, the question slightly irritating her. What did he expect her to say? That seeing him had made her weak? It had not. It had only strengthened her resolve to rid the bastard of everything he cared about.

“He didn’t recognize me. I didn’t expect him to.”

There was a tense pause on the line.

“Are you certain?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The elevator doors chimed and slid open. She stepped out into the bustling ground floor. Around her, people moved through the lobby without glancing at her. That was the beauty of becoming someone else. Nobody knew what to look for. Nobody knew what had been torn away from her. Nobody knew what she had survived or the venom running beneath the expensive name.

Outside, the sun hit her face, too bright after the cool of the tower. A black sedan waited across the street. She started toward it, then stopped when her phone buzzed again.

“Don’t forget you waited five years for this.”

She read it once, then deleted it.

She glanced back at the glass tower rising behind her and thought of Cassian Devereaux still sitting in that boardroom, staring at a contract, wondering why a woman he had never met felt strangely, impossibly familiar.

For the first time that afternoon, she let herself smile.

She got into the car. The door shut. The sedan pulled away from the curb.

Her phone buzzed once more. This time, she didn’t look.

She already knew what it would say.

“You waited five years for this. Don’t mess it up.”