PROLOGUE

Love? She didn’t believe in it.

To Imani Kane, love was nothing more than a chemical illusion, endorphins at play. Hormones pretending to be destiny. “It’s just biology,” she said softly, swirling the wine in her glass. “Like a monthly period.”

Her tone was calm, almost detached, but her eyes told a different story hollow, distant, yet burning with unspoken pain.

“I never understood why poets, actors, or novelists glorify it,” she went on. “As if love is the cure to all misery. But it’s not. Love doesn’t save the world

it ruins it. It makes people foolish, desperate, and obsessive.

Love is a haze… a pain in the ass one I don’t ever want.”

Across from her, Grady Jabri listened in silence. Her words sliced through him, but it wasn’t anger he felt it was ache. Ache for the woman in front of him who spoke about love as if it were poison.

Something inside him stirred dark, protective, raw instincts. Whoever had broken her, he wanted to destroy.

He studied her face , The defiance in her jaw, the sadness hiding behind her bravado. And he wondered, who hurt her so deeply that she stopped believing in love altogether?

He knew love existed. Rare, fragile, but real. And somehow, he wanted her to see that to feel it again. Because the moment he saw her, he knew: she was it.

The worst part? The bastard who shattered her her fiancé worked with his company. A partner.

So he listened. Not as a friend. Not even as a stranger. But as a man who knew he was falling into dangerous territory.

“How long have you been engaged?” he asked finally, his voice low.

She looked up, a faint, sad smile ghosting her lips. “Six months.” She took another sip of champagne her third.

“You should slow down,” he murmured, reaching for the glass.

She pulled it away with a teasing smirk. “No, thank you, sir. I’m not a lightweight. And if you’re implying that I’m drunk, I’m not.”

Her playfulness tugged at him. She was beautiful painfully so. Everything about her screamed elegance and strength, but he could tell it was armor.

“Why don’t you call off the engagement?” he asked, his voice softer now.

Her smile faded. “I tried. But it’s complicated. The engagement was arranged by our parents. Breaking it would… ruin a lot of things.”

“Financial things?” he pressed gently.

She let out a breath. “It’s about a gold mine.”

His brow lifted slightly.

“My mum inherited one,” she said. “At first, my father wanted her to sell it. It wasn’t producing much gold just a useless piece of land. she rolled her eyes and made fingers gestures that made her look cute.

" But Three years before she passed, she found out it wasn’t worthless after all. She transferred ownership to me.”

She hesitated, her voice trembling. “My Father made a deal or a contract with Mr. Clint Greenberg. The deal fell through. So as compensation… he offered me. Promised them the mine.”

Grady felt the air leave his lungs. “He sold you?”

She laughed bitterly. “Pretty much. And now I’m stuck, engaged to someone I barely know. So here I am trying to drink my misery away.”

Grady clenched his jaw. Not anymore, he thought.

“You don’t remember me,” he said inwardly, “but I made a promise once that when I found you again, I wouldn’t let you go.”

He leaned closer, his voice steady but charged. “I’ll help you. I won’t let them take your mine. And I’ll make sure you don’t marry that family.”

She blinked, startled, her gaze meeting his. For a moment, something inside her cracked open warmth, curiosity, maybe even… hope.

He was breathtaking Handsome with a sharp jawline, gray eyes that glowed with intensity, lips curved into a dangerous smile. Her heartbeat stuttered.

“Who are you to help me?” she whispered.

He smiled slow, confident, and devastatingly sure. “Someone who owes you a favor. Someone who believes you deserve better. And I’ll make sure you get everything you deserve.”

Her breath caught. “How can I trust you? I don’t even know you.”

“Oh, you will,” he murmured.

He reached out, twirling a loose strand of her hair before tucking it behind her ear. His touch was warm too warm and her chest tightened.

“No. This can’t be happening,” she muttered under her breath.

He chuckled, low and dangerous. “Oh, it is.” His voice was smooth velvet over steel, the kind that made her knees weak.

“Maybe it’s just the wine,” she said, shaking her head, trying to steady her racing heart.

But before she could take another breath, he moved fast pulling her close, his lips crashing against hers.

The kiss was searing, hungry, claiming. She gasped, melting against him, her fingers gripping his tuxedo. His arm wrapped around her waist, deepening the kiss until she felt the world slip away.

When he finally pulled back, his lips hovered near hers, his whisper a vow.

“You’re mine.”

And for the first time in years, Imani’s heart began to beat again into something that she couldn't explain

Desire maybe . Because She didn't believe in Love but something darker curling from the pit of her stomach which could be mistaken as Love.