Chapter 4

                                                         The Devil You Know

I spent the night in a cheap motel on the edge of the city, counting water stains on the ceiling and trying not to think about Richard's hand on my throat.

Trying. Failing.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him—both versions. The Richard from five years in the future, choking the life out of me with cold efficiency. And this Richard, younger but no less dangerous, who looked at me like I was a puzzle he intended to solve by breaking me into pieces.

At 1:45 PM, I stood outside Marcus Zhao's office building, my palms sweating despite the autumn chill.

Marcus Zhao. In my first timeline, he had been Richard's greatest rival, the only man who ever came close to destroying the Ashford empire. He did it with a hostile takeover of Ashford's primary supplier, cutting off Richard's manufacturing pipeline for six months.

It cost Richard three hundred million dollars to recover.

And it had not happened yet.

"Miss Chen?" A woman in a crisp gray suit appeared at my elbow. "Mr. Zhao is ready for you."

The elevator ride to the forty-second floor felt like ascending to my own execution. What was I doing? I was twenty-three years old with a liberal arts degree and no business experience. What could I possibly offer a man like Marcus Zhao?

Knowledge, a voice whispered in my head. You know the future.

The elevator doors opened.

Marcus Zhao's office was all glass and steel, modern and cold. The man himself stood at the window, his back to me, hands clasped behind him.

"Miss Chen." He did not turn around. "You sent me a very interesting proposal last night. Quote: 'I can give you Richard Ashford's head on a silver platter.' End quote."

Had I written that? My memory of last night was fragmentary, panic-soaked.

"Those were bold words from a girl who is supposed to marry him in six months."

"I am not marrying him."

"No?" He finally turned, and I was struck by how different he looked from my memories. Younger, sharper, hungry in a way the future Marcus was not. "Your father's company depends on the Ashford merger. Your family will be ruined without it. Yet here you are, trying to make a deal with his enemy."

"Which is why you should listen to me."

His eyebrow arched. "I am listening. So far, I hear desperation. Convince me I am hearing anything else."

I took a breath. This was it. The moment that would either save me or destroy me faster than Richard ever could.

"Ashford Industries uses ChemCore as their primary pharmaceutical supplier. Exclusive contract, renewed every three years. The current contract expires in four months."

"Common knowledge."

"What is not common knowledge is that ChemCore is hemorrhaging money. Their CEO, David Park, made some catastrophic investments in South American mining operations that went belly-up. He is desperate for a buyout, but he is too proud to admit it publicly."

Marcus's eyes narrowed. "And you know how?"

Because I lived through it. Because in my first life, Richard bought ChemCore for pennies on the dollar and used it to strangle his competitors.

"I have sources," I said instead. "What matters is that if you move fast—if you buy ChemCore before Richard even knows it is available—you can cut off his entire supply chain. It would take him years to rebuild. Billions in losses."

Silence stretched between us like a blade.

"Why would you do this to your future husband?"

"He is not my future husband. He is my enemy." The words came out raw, honest. "And I want to watch him bleed."

Something flickered in Marcus's expression—respect? Intrigue? "You hate him that much?"

More than you can imagine. More than I can explain without sounding insane.

"Yes."

Marcus moved to his desk, pulled out a file. "I had you investigate after your email. You are nobody, Aria Chen. Mediocre grades, no business experience, no connections outside your failing family. You are a pretty face attached to a desperate situation. Why should I believe anything you say?"

Because I have already lived through your greatest triumph, and I am handing it to you five years early.

"Prove me wrong," I said instead. "Look into ChemCore. If I am lying, you lose nothing but a few hours of research time. If I am telling the truth, you gain the weapon that will destroy Richard Ashford."

He studied me for a long moment, and I forced myself not to fidget under his gaze.

"And what do you want in return?"

"Ten percent of ChemCore once you acquire it. And a job."

"A job." He laughed, sharp and disbelieving. "Doing what?"

"Whatever you need. I am a fast learner, and I have every reason to work harder than anyone else in your company." I stepped closer to his desk. "You want to destroy Richard Ashford. So do I. That makes us allies."

"Or it makes you a liability." His voice went cold. "How do I know this is not a trap? That you are not feeding me false information so Richard can swoop in and destroy me?"

"Because Richard Ashford wants me broken and obedient, not independent and employed by his rival." I met his gaze directly. "Helping you is the most defiant thing I can do."

Marcus's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and his expression shifted. "That is interesting."

"What?"

"I am getting a call from Richard Ashford's assistant. He wants to schedule a meeting." Marcus's smile was all teeth. "To discuss a potential partnership. Today. Right now, in fact."

My blood went cold. "He knows I am here."

"Apparently." Marcus tilted his head. "Tell me, Miss Chen, does Richard Ashford have you followed?"

Oh God. The hotel. I had been so careful, but not careful enough. Richard had resources I could not even imagine.

"He has people everywhere," I whispered.

"Then you just became a very dangerous person to be seen with." Marcus walked to the door, opened it. "Leave. Now."

"Wait—"

"I will look into ChemCore. If you are right, we will talk again. If you are wrong, do not contact me again." His voice was dismissive. "And Miss Chen? Whatever war you are fighting with Richard Ashford, make sure you are prepared to lose. Men like him do not forgive betrayal."

The elevator doors closed on his office, and I sagged against the wall.

My phone buzzed. Richard.

Found you. Did you really think Marcus Zhao would save you? He is meeting with me in ten minutes. I wonder what we will discuss.

Another message: Come home, Aria. Before I have to come get you.

And then: The motel manager says you left your necklace in the room. The one with your mother's picture. I have it now. If you want it back, you know where to find me.

My hand flew to my throat. The necklace—the only thing I had left of my mother before she got sick.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Exactly how to hurt me.

The elevator opened on the ground floor, and I stumbled into the lobby.

And walked straight into Richard's chest.

His arms came around me, iron bands disguised as an embrace. To anyone watching, we looked like reunited lovers.

"There you are, darling." His voice was silk and violence. "We have so much to talk about.”