My Ex-Fiancé's Hot Daddy

The Black Forest no longer carried the soothing scent of pine. To me, the smell of damp earth and sharp pine needles was now the stench of a shallow grave.

 My body dragged across thorny brambles as I continued to crawl. Every inch of my torn skin felt like it was on fire, but the physical agony was nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest at the memory of Adrian Blackwood’s face—the man who was supposed to recite holy vows to me at the altar next week in London.

 "Forgive me, Elaine. But Sienna is carrying my child. She needs recognition, and you... you just need to rest forever," Adrian had whispered two hours ago, right before he shoved me into a shallow ravine on the edge of this German forest.

 I had been unconscious for two hours. It was exactly midnight when we arrived here, and he discarded me like common refuse.

 Before leaving, he didn’t even bother to make sure I was dead. He was too much of a coward to look at blood. He simply threw me away, hoping the freezing mountain air would finish his dirty work for him.

 I coughed, spitting out the blood that clogged my throat. With broken fingernails, I clawed at the last tree root. I couldn't die here. If I died, Adrian and Sienna would dance upon my family’s headstones. They would inherit Vance Global as the 'grieving couple.'

 No. I wouldn't let them.

 Suddenly, a beam of high-intensity headlights sliced through the darkness from a distance. The low, powerful hum of an engine approached. With a surge of strength that felt like a miracle, I crawled out of the brush and collapsed onto the cold asphalt of the secluded road.

 Screeeech!

 The sharp shriek of tires biting into the asphalt shattered the silence of the night. The acrid smell of burnt rubber filled my nose. I could only lie on my side, staring into the blinding glare of the headlights. The car had stopped mere centimeters from my body.

 A car door opened. The firm, steady click of Oxford shoes approached. It wasn’t a panicked pace; it was a calculated one.

 "Do you have a death wish, little lady?"

 The voice was heavy, deep, and carried an authority that made the very air feel thick. I looked up. Through blurred vision, I saw a man standing there. He wore a dark charcoal suit, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His face was mature, defined by a harsh, chiseled jawline.

 "Help..." my voice was nothing more than a broken whisper. "Whoever you are, please... help me..."

 I didn't know if he could even hear me over the chorus of night insects between us. My breath was ragged, my gaze pleading as I weakly raised a hand, drained of all strength.

 The man knelt before me. He studied me like an art curator assessing a damaged painting. "A torn gown, drag marks, and you're dumped on my private property. Who tried to kill you on my precious grounds?" he asked, his tone flat and unreadable.

 I didn't answer. I only gripped the hem of his expensive trousers. "Take me... away. I will... pay. With anything."

 The man narrowed his eyes. He glanced toward the forest, then back at me. Recognition seemed to dawn on him as his eyes fell upon the pendant around my neck—the Vance family crest.

 "Elaine Vance?" he murmured softly.

 My consciousness began to slip away. "Don’t let them... win..."

 The man lifted me in one steady motion. His chest felt like a wall of solid stone. He smelled of sandalwood and expensive whiskey.

 "You're lucky you ran into me, Elaine," he whispered directly into my ear as he placed me into the backseat of his car. "I’ve been looking for a reason to ruin someone. Perhaps you are the bullet I need."

 After those final words, I remembered nothing more. I drifted back into darkness, my body aching and the cold seeping into my bones.

 I woke up to silence. I wasn't in a hospital; I was in a grand bedroom. When I turned toward the window, I saw that it overlooked a river.

 Someone was sitting in the corner of the room, holding a crystal glass filled with amber liquid. Though my memory was hazy, I recognized his silhouette. He was the man who had saved me from that forest road.

 "Three fractured ribs and twenty stitches," he said without looking my way. "My private doctor is very good at keeping secrets."

 I tried to sit up, wincing in pain. "Thank you for your help, but why bother bringing me here? Why not a hospital?"

 "Because if you went there, the record would reach your fiancé’s hands within the hour. Doesn't he think you're dead?" The man stood, walking toward me with the predatory grace of a wolf. "I know what that little bastard did to you. Adrian is a boy who never learned how to appreciate a valuable asset."

 My heart skipped a beat. "Boy? Adrian? Who... who are you?"

 The man offered a ghost of a smile. He set an old photograph on the table. In it, a teenager—Adrian—stood awkwardly beside this man.

 "Alistair Blackwood," he said flatly. "Most people in London call me 'The Great Lord.' But you... you were supposed to call me 'Father-in-law,' had Adrian’s plan not gone awry and you crawled back into his arms today."

 My world crumbled. This man was Alistair Blackwood. The business legend who had been living in reclusion. Adrian’s mysterious father.

 "I’ll never go back to him. He threw me away for another woman," I said, my voice trembling. "He wants to steal Vance Global."

 "I know," Alistair replied. He sat on the edge of the bed, so close I could feel the heat radiating from him. "That is why you are useful to me. You won't forgive him as easily as he discarded your life. I need someone to bring Adrian down without getting my own hands dirty. You have a brain, Elaine. You’re a genius wasted on the wrong kind of love."

 I gripped the silk sheets as he reached out, tilting my chin up to force me to meet his dark eyes.

 "Stay here. Be my ghost. I will give you the power and the stage. In exchange, you will help me scrub my name clean of the filth that boy created."

 "Is that all?" I challenged.

 Alistair’s gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. The tension in the room shifted into something far more dangerous.

 "For now, yes," he whispered. "But don't be mistaken, Elaine. I am not a good man. I didn't save you out of pity; I saved you because I want something that can burn everything down."

 That night, I realized one thing: I had escaped a small devil, only to fall into the arms of a much larger, deadlier demon. And I didn't mind—as long as I could watch Adrian shatter into pieces.

 "Fine. I'll destroy him for you, and for myself. I will have my revenge for what he did to me and my family. I will do whatever you command."