Chapter 3

**Isabella's POV**

  I woke up in a stranger’s penthouse with a hangover that felt like Alexander himself was jackhammering my skull.

  Not metaphorical.

  Actual penthouse. Actual stranger. Actual deal with the devil had made me sign at 3 a.m. while I was still wearing a wet wedding dress.

  I groaned into the silk pillowcase. “Kill me now.”

  “Already considered it,” a deep voice said from the doorway. “Decided you’re more useful alive.”

  I shot upright. Lucian Voss, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, wearing black sweatpants that hung low enough to be illegal and nothing else. Morning light sliced across his chest like it had a personal vendetta against my ovaries.

  “Jesus Christ, put a shirt on,” I croaked.

  He smirked. “It’s my house.”

  “Your house, your rules. My retinas, my trauma.”

  He pushed off the doorframe and strolled in with two coffees. Handed me one. Black, two sugars, splash of vanilla.

  Exactly how I like it.

  I narrowed my eyes. “How did you—”

  “You screamed your coffee order at Kayla the barista last night between death threats to Alexander’s penis. Hard to miss.”

  I took the cup like it was holy water. “Thank you.”

  “Formalities start in ninety minutes. Shower’s through there. Clothes are in the closet. He said coldly with his dead eyes. 

  Ninety minutes later I walked into Voss Enterprises looking like I hadn’t just detonated my entire life yesterday.

  Black stilettos (new), black pencil skirt (new), white silk blouse (also new), hair in a sleek ponytail that said “I’m fine” while my soul screamed “I’m deceased.”. I was equally shocked he had all these already in his closets like he had orchestrated my arrival, but I didn't think much into it. Something else took my attention...the cameras. 

  The building was a cathedral of glass and ego. Everything black marble, white accents, chrome so sharp you could shave with it. Knight Corp had been all warm woods and champagne tones. Voss Enterprises felt like walking into the inside of a panther.

  People stared. Whispered. Phones came out.

  I kept my chin high and murder in my eyes.

  Lucian’s office took up half the top floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows, city kneeling at his feet. He was already behind the desk, sleeves rolled up, looking annoyingly perfect.

  “Close the door,” he said without looking up from his laptop.

  I did. The click echoed like a gunshot.

  He finally glanced up. His gaze traveled over me slow, deliberate, approving. “You clean up well, Mrs. Knight.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Make me.”

  I rolled my eyes and dropped into the chair across from him. “HR paperwork?”

  “Already done. You’re officially my executive assistant. Salary triple what Alexander paid you, full benefits, company car, penthouse guest room is yours as long as you need.”

  I blinked. “Triple?”

  “I don’t play small, Isabella.”

  He slid a tablet across the desk. On the screen: a draft press release.

  “Voss Enterprises welcomes Isabella Voss as Executive Assistant to CEO Lucian Voss. Ms. Voss will be relocating to Mr. Voss’s Manhattan residence during the transition period.”

  I choked on air. “Relocating? As in living together?”

  He leaned back, fingers steepled. “I have an additional offer.”

  “Here we go.”

  “Date me. Publicly. Three months. We parade around town, let the cameras feast, make Alexander watch you thrive with the enemy. When the ninety days are up, you walk away with a ten-million-dollar bonus on top of the salary, your fifty percent of Knight Corp fully secured, and my personal guarantee Alexander will never bother you again.”

  My mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

  “You’re insane.”

  “Probably.”

  “People will think I’m a...”

  “Smart, gorgeous, ruthless woman who upgraded the second she smelled bullshit? Yes. Let them.”

  I stared at him. Really stared.

  He had the same sharp cheekbones as Alexander. Same proud nose. But where Alexander’s eyes were ice-blue and performative, Lucian’s were thunderstorm-gray and unreadable.

  And the resemblance wasn’t just striking, it was disturbing.

  “Why do you look like him?” I asked quietly.

  For the first time, something flickered across his face. Gone before I could name it.

  “Plastic surgeons in this city are very talented,” he said smoothly. “Now. Do we have a deal, or do you want to go crawl back to Mommy and Daddy and explain why their AmEx Black cards just got declined?”

  That hit like a slap.

  My parents. But wait, what did he mean by plastic surgeons?. His statement was unclear but ugh! my parents...:(

  I’d woken up to seventeen missed calls and one text from my mother:

  “You have brought shame on this family. Do not contact us until you fix this.”

  Attached was a screenshot of their country club membership, cancelled, courtesy of Alexander Knight Corp.

  My throat closed.

  Alexander hadn’t just cheated. He’d weaponized my own family against me.

  I looked back at Lucian.

  His expression hadn’t changed, but his voice softened, just a fraction. “I know what it feels like to have everything taken from you. Let me give you a piece of it back.”

  Something in his tone made my chest tight.

  I swallowed. “What exactly does ‘publicly dating’ mean?”

  “Dinners. Galas. My hand on the small of your back in every photo. You’ll sleep in my bed when we travel...”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Separate rooms at home,” he clarified, lips twitching. “I’m possessive, not a caveman. Mostly.”

  I chewed my lip.

  Three months. Ten million dollars. Revenge served hotter than hell.

  And maybe, just maybe, a chance to breathe again.

  I extended my hand. “You leak that press release today?”

  He took it, grip firm, thumb brushing my knuckles in a way that should’ve been illegal. “Already scheduled for noon.”

  “Then you’ve got yourself a girlfriend, Mr. Voss.”

  His smile was slow, lethal, victorious. “Welcome to the winning side, baby.”

  Twelve minutes later my phone exploded.

  Alexander.

  I let it ring twice, then answered on speaker so Lucian could hear.

  “Isabella,” Alexander’s voice cracked. “Where the fuck are you? People are saying you’re with Voss, that’s insane, that’s...”

  “Lucian, actually,” I cut in sweetly. “And yes, I am.”

  Silence. Then a roar. “You ungrateful bitch, do you have any idea what you’ve done? My stock just dropped eight percent because of your little stunt...”

  “Good,” I said. “I hope it drops another eighty. Have a nice life, Alex.”

  I hung up.

  Lucian was watching me with somet

hing dark and hungry in his eyes.

  “Cold,” he murmured. “I like it.”

  I lifted my coffee in a toast. “To new beginnings.”

  He clinked his cup against mine. “To watching empires burn.”

  Outside the window, the city glittered like it already knew blood was coming.

  And for the first time in twenty...four hours, I smiled, really smiled.

  Let the games begin.