Chapter Four

I woke up with the kind of headache that felt like a tiny sledgehammer was rhythmicly pounding against the inside of my skull. For a fleeting, blissful second, I forgot where I was. Then, the scent of expensive linen and the oppressive silence of the room hit me.

The Hart penthouse. The lion’s den.

I bolted upright, checking the clock on the bedside table. 7:35 AM. "Shit," I hissed, scrambling out of the covers. Lucien had been crystal clear about his deadlines.

I dove into the shower, the hot water doing little to wash away the memory of Damon’s gun pressed against my temple or the way Kai’s blue eyes looked at me like I was a virus in his clean code. I didn't have time for a full transformation. I threw on the only things I had left in my suitcase—a pair of faded jeans and a slightly oversized hoodie. It was a stark contrast to the black thrift-store gown I’d worn to the boardroom battle, but it was me.

I brushed my hair with trembling fingers, styling it clumsily as I sprinted toward the massive dining area.

The sight that greeted me was breathtaking, the kind of tableau that would make any other girl in this city go into cardiac arrest. The four Hart brothers were scattered across the open-concept space like a living, breathing Forbes spread.

Lucien didn't even look up from his tablet, but the air in the room shifted the moment I stepped onto the marble.

"You’re late," he said, his voice dropping like an icy blade. He finally looked up, checking his platinum wristwatch. He was already fully armored in a three-piece suit that probably cost more than a mid-sized sedan. Every hair was perfectly in place. "Punctuality is the first thing we know here."

"Good morning to you too, Lucien," I bit back.

"Morning, Cinderella," a voice whispered directly into my ear.

I jumped, spinning around to find Theo standing inches behind me. He flashed that signature smile—the one that melted hearts and scrambled brains across three different social media platforms. His golden hair was dripping wet, curling around his forehead, and he was wrapped in a plush white robe that left entirely too much of his chest exposed.

"Good morning, Theo," I managed, trying to ignore the way he smelled like expensive sandalwood and sin.

"So, Scarlett..." Lucien continued, ignoring our interaction. "The plan is simple. You’ll be following one of us out each day. We’ll rotate your... supervision... until we find a legal loophole large enough to drag you through and get rid of you."

"Okay," I said, walking toward the kitchen island. I wasn't going to fight them on an empty stomach. The smell of freshly made pancakes was the only thing keeping me upright.

"Luce, there is no way in hell she’s going with me today," Damon interjected.

I looked over at him. He was standing by the espresso machine, completely shirtless. The morning light caught every ripple of muscle and every inch of the dark, intricate ink that spiraled down his arms. He was making coffee with a bored expression, ignoring the kitchen staff who were bustling around him like he was a god they weren't allowed to look at.

He caught me staring. His lips curled into a slow, wicked smirk before he turned his gaze to Lucien.

"I thought you two were getting along so well already?" Lucien mocked, a rare, cruel glint in his eyes. "Didn't you have her pinned to a wall last night?"

"Quit it, mate," Damon snapped, grabbing his caffeine and heading toward his wing without a backward glance.

Lucien and Damon always have a way of getting at each others neck.

Lucien turned his silver gaze to the corner of the room. "Kai?"

Kai was hunched over a tablet, sketching. He was in a black hoodie and jeans, his dark brunette hair falling over his face in messy waves. He didn't even look up.

"No fucking way," Kai spat, his voice like gravel. "I have a server migration today. I don't have time to babysit a variable."

He finally shot me a deadly glare, one that told me exactly how much he wanted to "delete" me from his life.

"Why don't you take her with you to the office, Luce?" Theo asked, helping himself to a pancake and leaning against the counter next to me. "I’m sure the board would love to meet the girl who inherited their dividends."

"I have an executive meeting today," Lucien said, his tone final. "I won't let a novice ruin months of negotiations for me."

"Excuse me," I cut in, my temper finally snapping. "I have a college degree, Mr. Workaholic. I’m not exactly illiterate."

"From a community college," Kai added casually, still not looking up. "I looked into your records, Scarlett. You’re a B-student with a background in 'survival.' Not exactly M&A material."

"Kai," Lucien’s voice was a warning, but his eyes stayed on me. "What else did you find out? Aside from the fact that she spent her nights wiggling her ass for tips?"

The air left my lungs. The mention of the Velvet Eclipse—the work I’d done to keep my mother alive—felt like a physical slap. I felt the hot sting of tears behind my eyes, but I swallowed them down. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not today.

"I'm going with you to the office, Lucien Hart," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous calm. I crossed my arms and walked right up to him, stepping into his personal space. I had to crane my neck to look him in the eye, but I didn't flinch. "And you aren't going to stop me. If I’m an 'asset' in this will, then start treating me like one."

The room went silent. Theo stopped chewing. Kai actually looked up from his tablet.

Lucien took a slow, deliberate look at me, his eyes traveling from my messy hair down to my scuffed sneakers. He looked like he was deciding whether to crush me or keep me.

"Fine," Lucien said, his voice a low vibration. "Case closed. She’s coming with me."

"Luce?" Kai sounded surprised.

"But," Lucien added, leaning down until his face was inches from mine, "you aren't going to a park. You look like a runaway."

He didn't wait for my response. He pulled out his phone and made a ten-second call. "Send them up. Now."

Within fifteen minutes, the quiet of the penthouse was replaced by the rustle of silk and the clicking of heels. A team of four stylists marched in, trailing racks of clothing that looked like they’d been plucked straight from a Parisian runway.

"Dress her," Lucien commanded, gesturing to me as if I were a mannequin. "We leave in twenty minutes. If she doesn't look like a Hart's asset, don't bother sending her out."

I was whisked away to my room, poked and prodded as they cinched me into a charcoal-colored power suit that hugged every curve I’d spent years trying to hide. They did my makeup with clinical efficiency, sharpening my features until I looked like someone I didn't recognize.

When I walked back out into the living area, the conversation stopped.

Damon was back, now dressed in a black button-down, leaning against the wall. His eyes darkened as they swept over me lingering on my exposed cleavages. Theo let out a low, appreciative whistle.

Lucien stood up, his expression unreadable. He walked over to me, reaching out to adjust the lapel of my blazer. His fingers brushed against my neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

"Better," he whispered, his eyes lingering on my lips for a fraction of a second too long. "But remember, Scarlett. You’re wearing our name now. Don't make me regret letting you keep it."

He turned on his heel and headed for the elevator. "Let's go."

As I followed him, I felt the weight of the other three brothers watching my ass wiggle as I walk in that tight suit. This was only day one, and I was already playing a part in a play I didn't have the script for.

We reached the lobby of the Hart Tower, where a blacked-out SUV was waiting. But as the glass doors slid open, a wall of camera flashes blinded me.

"Mr. Hart! Who is the woman?"

"Is she the secret heir?"

"Scarlett, over here!"

Lucien’s hand suddenly clamped onto the small of my back, pulling me flush against his side. It was a possessive, dominating gesture that told the world—and me—exactly who was in control.

But as we dived into the car and the door slammed shut, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

A text from an unknown number: I see you, little moth. Did you think you could hide in a penthouse forever? The Eclipse is missing its star.

The blood drained from my face. Jace.

I looked at Lucien, who was already back on his tablet. I realized then that the four sharks in the penthouse weren't the only monsters I had to worry about.

And if they found out who was really chasing me, they wouldn't protect me. They’d hand me over just to see me burn.