CHAPTER 15

ANNA POV

“I’m Elena,” the woman says, standing up the second I open my office door. “Peter’s fiancée.”

She’s tall, blonde, and wearing a tailored European-cut suit that screams old money. She holds a sleek leather clutch in her hand, smiling at me with a polite, razor-thin expression that doesn't reach her bright blue eyes.

My chest tightens so hard I forget how to draw air into my lungs.

“He didn't mention you were coming,” I say, holding the door handle tight to keep my fingers from trembling.

“So you’re the sister,” Elena says, stepping forward and taking her time looking me up and down like I’m a piece of cheap furniture. “Peter mentioned you when Richard married your mother. Though he didn't mention you were still living under his roof.”

The word sister hangs heavy in the quiet office, spoken with a sharp emphasis that feels like an intentional stake in the ground.

“I’m his business partner,” I correct her, walking past her to slide into the chair behind my oak desk. “Is there something I can help you with, Elena?”

“I’m back in New York to reconnect,” Elena says smoothly, taking the leather seat across from me without being invited. “Peter and I were engaged for eight months three years ago, before his father called him back to handle the merger.”

She folds her hands over her knee, launching into effortless stories about Peter’s past. She talks about their winter trips to Paris, their long weekends in St. Moritz, and the six-carat sapphire ring he bought her at a private auction in London.

I sit there smiling and nodding while every single word carves a deep, bleeding wound into my chest.

I have no right to be jealous. I keep repeating the words in my head like a chant. He isn't mine. He’s my stepbrother, my ally, and a man who refuses to feel anything for anyone.

Elena suddenly stands up, moving around my desk until she’s standing directly beside my chair, blocking the light from the large office window.

“You think you’re special because he’s protecting you, don’t you, Anna?” Elena asks, her voice dropping into a low, vicious whisper. “I’ve seen him do this before. He finds a wounded bird, heals it, and then releases it the second it bores him.”

I lift my chin, staring straight into her icy face. “Peter is helping me reclaim my mother’s company.”

“He destroyed his last business partner,” Elena counters sharply, leaning over my desk. “Left her in Singapore with absolutely nothing after the takeover was finalized. He’ll use your body, your connections, and your grief. Then he’ll leave you the moment this war with Richard is over. Peter doesn’t love, Anna. He conquers.”

Before I can answer her, the heavy glass doors to my office swing open.

Peter walks into the room, holding a leather briefing folder under his arm. The moment his eyes land on Elena, he freezes dead in his tracks.

“Elena,” Peter says, his tone dropping into an absolute layer of ice. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you, darling,” Elena purrs, gliding across the carpet toward him.

She steps into his space, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Peter stands completely rigid, his jaw locked tight. He doesn't look at me once. He stares down at Elena like she’s a ghost he buried years ago and never expected to see again.

“I’m staying in New York for the IPO,” Elena announces smoothly, sliding her arm through Peter’s elbow and pressing her body against his side. “And to support Peter, of course.”

She touches his forearm, her manicured fingers resting over his sleeve in a possessive, casual claim.

I watch Peter’s face, waiting for him to pull his arm away, waiting for him to tell her to leave. He doesn't move. He lets her hold his arm, his cold grey eyes completely unreadable as he stands beside her.

My heart shatters inside my chest, the pain so sharp and sudden I feel sick to my stomach.

“Excuse me,” I say, grabbing my tablet and pulling myself out of my chair. “I have a meeting on the fourth floor.”

I walk past them both, stepping out into the cold marble hallway.

I walk fast, my heels clicking loudly against the tile as I try to get far enough away to breathe. The air in the hallway feels too thin, my throat constricting with hot, unshed tears that I refuse to let fall.

Footsteps slam against the floor behind me, closing the distance quickly.

“Anna,” Peter’s voice commands from behind me. “Stop walking. It’s not what you think.”

I turn around sharply, stopping right beside the elevator bank. My face is completely blank, my eyes dry as bone as I look at his tense, pale face.

“It’s fine, Peter,” I say, my voice steady and cold. “She’s right. We have a pact to destroy Richard. That’s all this is.”

I turn my back on him and step into the opening elevator doors without waiting for a reply.

Peter stands in the middle of the hallway, his hands curled into tight, shaking fists at his sides as he watches the brass doors slide shut between us. At the end of the corridor, Elena stands in my office doorway, leaning against the frame with a triumphant, slow smile spreading across her face.