āđāļāđāļēāļŠāļđāđāļĢāļ°āļāļ"You don't get a choice," Lucienâs words still rang in my ears, heavy and arrogant.They thought locking down the penthouse meant I was safe. They thought surrounding the glass perimeter with armed security guards would keep the world out, and keep me in. But they forgot one fundamental truth: I grew up in the streets. I knew how security rotations worked, and more importantly, I knew how to find the blind spots in a cage.By ten o'clock that night, the penthouse was quiet.Lucien was in his private study on a secure satellite call with his legal team, preparing the paperwork to financially decimate Vane Holdings. Kai was down in the armory, loading tactical gear with Damon, while Theo monitored the closed-circuit feeds from the main lounge.They expected me to be sulking in my bedroom.Instead, I slipped into a black turtleneck, dark cargo pants, and leather combat boots. From under my mattress, I pulled out the small, stolen ceramic blade I had lifted from the kitchen inventory days
For forty-eight hours, the penthouse was a tomb. I kept to my private wing, coming out only to grab water or process corporate audit logs on my laptop. Lucien remained an icy, untouchable ghost; Theoâs playboy laughter echoed down the foyer every time he brought another socialite through the elevator doors; Kai avoided my gaze with a dark, volatile tension whenever our paths crossed in the hall; and Damon stayed entirely out of sight, operating from the dark shadows of the shipping docks like a wraith. They wanted me to feel isolated, broken, and small. But I had survived years of isolation, I knew how to bide my time. On Thursday morning, a sudden, heavy chime echoed from the main living area. I stepped out into the hallway just as the private elevator doors hissed open. Lucien and Kai stepped out together, their expressions were stripped of their usual cold indifference. Instead, a lethal, quiet gravity radiated off them, the kind that meant blood had been spilled or was about
If I thought the bloody gunfight in the stairwell of Hart Global Headquarters would mark a turning point, a shift from hostile captivity to mutual respect, I was dead wrong. By sunrise the next morning, whatever fragile, adrenaline-fueled truce had existed on that blood-stained concrete landing had completely evaporated. The warmth had vanished, replaced by an arctic frost that settled heavy and suffocating over the glass penthouse. They didn't see me as an equal. They saw me as a target, a walking, breathing catalyst for violence that had almost brought their corporate empire crashing down around their ears. When I walked into the kitchen at eight in the morning, dressed in a black silk blouse and tailored grey trousers, the air was cold enough to freeze blood. Lucien sat at the head of the dark marble breakfast bar, his dark hair combed back into immaculate perfection, his charcoal suit flawless. He didn't look up from his tablet when my heels clicked against the hardwood floor
The wind on the roof was freezing, but the air between the five of us was scorching hot. Damon didn't remove his hand from the back of my neck right away. His fingers remained wrapped firmly around my nape, hot and heavy, holding me against his broad chest while his dark, bloodshot eyes locked onto his three brothers standing near the roof door. Theo took two steps forward, his golden eyes fixed on Damonâs hand. The playful, flirtatious smirk that usually graced his face was completely gone, replaced by a dark, dangerous scowl. "Take your hand off her, Damon," Theo said, his voice dropping into a low, quiet threat. "You aren't her knight in shining armor just because you ran up here first." "Try taking it off me, Theo," Damon growled back, his chest rising and falling against my shoulder. "Enough of the barterings," Kaiâs voice cut through the wind like a broadsword. He didn't yell, but the sheer weight of his baritone forced an immediate, heavy silence over the high-rise roof.
I didn't take the elevator down to the lobby, and I certainly didn't wait for Kai or Theo to chaperon me like a disgraced child. Instead, I took the stairwell up to the roof of Hart Global, letting the door slam shut behind me. The crisp morning wind tore through my dark hair, whipping it across my face as I walked to the edge of the glass ledge, staring out over the sprawling city sky. My knuckles were white where I gripped the metal railing, my heart hammering a fierce, angry rhythm against my ribs. Apologize. Lucienâs freezing voice echoed in my head, sending a fresh wave of white-hot fury through my veins. He had stood there in his pristine three-piece suit, looking down at me as if I were nothing more than a street rat who didn't know her place. He had chosen Lizaâs pathetic, tearful theater act over me without a second thought, prioritizing his corporate reputation over the truth. "They're all the same," I whispered to the empty air, my voice laced with venom. "Cold, arrog
I slammed my bedroom door shut, leaning my back against the heavy mahogany wood as if it could physically keep out the suffocating storm brewing in the penthouse. My chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths. Down in the warehouse basement, Damon had looked like a bloodthirsty monster, a dark, ruthless mafia boss who killed without a second thought, his hands still warm with blood as he pinned me against the stone wall. Then, only hours later, Kai had held my jaw with shocking tenderness, his lips consuming mine in a kiss that had set my entire body ablaze, proving he was far more than just a cold, calculating strategist. And now? Now the entire penthouse was tearing itself apart because of me. Outside my door, the muffled sound of raised voices vibrated through the floorboards, Damonâs low, guttural roar, Kaiâs short-fused sharp retorts, Theoâs cluelessness, and Lucien trying to keep his empire from fracturing from the inside out. I pushed off the door, crossing the expansiv
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chimeâa sound far too polite for the jagged tension crackling in the air. I stepped out last, my scuffed heels clicking against the black marble floor like a warning. I felt like an intruder, a smudge of dirt on a pristine canvas. The penthouse was breath
Scarlett's POV The heavy oak doors of the Hart Tower penthouse boardroom slammed shut behind me with a finality that echoed like a gunshot. Silence fell instantly. I felt the weight of four pairs of eyesâcold, calculating, and dangerously beautifulâlocking onto me. They looked at me as if I were
As we stepped out of the private elevator onto the executive floor of Hart Global, the air didn't just turn cold; it pressurized. Lucien didnât slow down. He moved through the office like a king walking through a conquered territory. Every head snapped up. Every conversation died. I felt the weig
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 lionâs de







