Chapter 6

Night fell over London, accompanied by a light rain that washed against the crystal panes of the Vance Global headquarters. On the top floor, in the very office where my father once built his dreams, I stood watching the city lights flicker below. Adrian’s accounts were frozen, his access to classified data severed, and his influence over the board was trembling like a house of cards in the wind.

But I knew this wouldn't be the end of it. Adrian was a snake; he would crawl through any gutter to reclaim his throne.

The heavy double doors groaned open. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The scent of sandalwood, expensive tobacco, and that suffocating aura of dominance belonged to only one man.

Alistair Blackwood strode in. He had discarded his blazer, leaving only a black shirt that strained against his powerful frame. He walked straight to the private bar in the corner, pouring two glasses of whiskey in silence.

"You won the first battle today, Elara," his voice was low, vibrating through the quiet air. He approached me, handing me a glass.

"It’s only the beginning, Alistair," I replied, sipping the amber liquid that seared my throat. "Adrian won't surrender. He’ll look for any gap to prove who I really am."

Alistair stood directly behind me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest against my bare back, exposed by the low-cut silk gown. "Let him try. The harder he hunts you, the deeper he falls into the trap I’ve set."

Suddenly, Alistair’s large, warm hand settled on my shoulder, slowly sliding down my arm. His touch was no longer the protective gesture he displayed in front of Adrian. There was a new intensity—a suppressed demand.

"But do you know what bothered me most today, Elaine?" he whispered. His lips were a fraction away from my ear, sending a violent shiver down my spine.

"What?"

"The way he looked at you." Alistair turned me around, his grip firm yet strangely careful. His dark eyes flickered with a hunger he no longer bothered to hide. "Even while he insulted you, I saw the remnants of desire in his eyes. He looked at you as if he still had the right to touch you."

I gasped as Alistair’s hand traveled up to my jaw, his thumb pressing against my bottom lip with a pressure that sent my heart into a frantic gallop. "He has no rights left."

"Exactly," Alistair growled, pinning me between the massive desk and his solid frame. "Because now, every inch of you is my investment. Every breath you take is mine. And I am a man who is notoriously possessive of his assets."

His breath hit my face, heavy and uneven. The passion that had been stifled behind professional masks and revenge plots finally ignited. Alistair leaned down, kissing me with a raw, desperate hunger—as if he wanted to scrub away every ghost of a memory Adrian had ever left on my lips. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was a territorial claim.

My hands tangled into his dark hair, pulling him closer, while his other hand slid down to my waist, crushing the silk of my gown in his fist. A wave of guilt washed over me—this man was the Daddy of the person who had tried to destroy me—but that taboo only served as fuel, making the fire burn hotter.

Alistair broke the kiss for a heartbeat, staring at me with eyes clouded by obsession. "I want to mark you, Elaine. I want the world to know you belong to me without me saying a word."

He pulled a small velvet box from his shirt pocket. Inside lay a white-gold choker, adorned with a massive black diamond at its center. It was a piece of jewelry that looked like an exquisite, priceless shackle.

With fingers that trembled slightly from lust, he fastened the choker around my neck. The cold metal bit into my heated skin. "Wear this. Never take it off, especially when you are near Adrian. Let him see it and wonder what kind of man conquered the woman he threw away."

Then, Alistair lifted me, seating me atop the expansive mahogany desk. Important documents scattered beneath me, but neither of us cared. Under the city lights bleeding through the window, Alistair looked at me as if I were the only object in the world he wanted to both protect and ruin.

"You know this is a sin, don't you?" I whispered, my hands beginning to undo his shirt buttons one by one, revealing the hard planes of his chest.

"I gave up on heaven a long time ago, Elaine," he rasped. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, leaving searing kisses that I knew would leave faint marks behind. "If being with you is hell, then I’ll gladly be its king."

At that exact moment, the phone on the desk shrieked. Adrian Blackwood flashed across the screen.

Alistair paused, glancing at the screen with a predatory smirk. He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed the phone, powered it off, and tossed it carelessly onto the floor.

"Let him call until his fingers bleed," Alistair turned his full attention back to me, his eyes dark with an all-consuming need. "Tonight, you aren't a consultant from Zurich. You aren't a ghost from the past. You are Alistair Blackwood's."

I smiled faintly despite the thrill of dread in my chest. I knew Adrian was likely screaming my name somewhere right now, realizing—with agonizing certainty—that I was with his father.

That night, in an office meant for business, I surrendered myself to the obsession of the older man. I realized then that Alistair was far more dangerous than Adrian. Adrian wanted to kill my body, but Alistair... he wanted to own my soul until there was nothing left for anyone else.

And amidst the burning passion, I realized one thing: this revenge was no longer just about money or a company. It was about how Alistair and I would destroy each other in the most delicious way possible.