Dominic Blackwood stood in the doorway, his imposing frame filling the entrance. Unlike the disheveled Reynolds family, he looked immaculate in a charcoal suit. His storm-gray eyes swept over the scene, taking in everything with a single glance.
“This is a private family matter," Victoria hissed, lowering her hand slowly. "You have no business here." "On the contrary." Blackwood stepped into the room, moving with the confident grace of a predator. "When someone catches a woman who's been pushed through a window, I believe that creates a certain responsibility." Richard straightened his tie, switching instantly to his public persona. "Mr. Blackwood, we appreciate your assistance yesterday, but this situation is being handled." "Is it?" Blackwood's eyebrow lifted as he glanced at my reddened cheek. "Interesting handling technique." Victoria's nostrils flared. "How dare you imply—" “I'm not implying anything," Blackwood interrupted smoothly. "I'm stating facts. Mrs. Reynolds fell—or was pushed—from your son's office window. I caught her. Now I find her being threatened in her hospital room while still recovering." His smile never reached his eyes. "The media would find that fascinating, don't you think?" The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. "We should go," Richard muttered to his wife, casting a calculating glance at Blackwood. "This conversation can wait." Victoria looked like she wanted to argue, but Blake was already heading for the door, clearly done with the whole situation. "This isn't over," Victoria whispered, leaning close enough that I could smell her expensive perfume. "You're dead to us. Don't ever expect to see a penny of Reynolds money." "Mother." Chase's voice held a note of warning. She straightened, composing herself. "My son deserves better than damaged goods," she said loud enough for Blackwood to hear. "We never want to see you again." Each word was a knife twisting in my already bleeding heart. They filed out—a procession of expensive suits and cold hearts. Blake didn't even look back, already scrolling through his phone. Only Chase hesitated, giving me a conflicted glance before following his family. Then they were gone, leaving me alone with the man who'd saved my life—and who now studied me with detached interest. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Don't thank me yet." He moved closer, hands in his pockets. "That was business, not kindness." "Still, I appreciate it." Blackwood nodded once, then checked his phone. "The news coverage is substantial. Your fall, my catch—it's trending on every platform." "Can you... deny any connection between us?" I asked. "Tell them it was just coincidence?" His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Why would I do that?" "Please," I begged, desperation clawing at my throat. "If Blake thinks there's something between us, he'll—" "Use it against you?" Blackwood finished, his tone almost amused. "From what I just witnessed, I'd say that bridge is already burned." "You don't understand." Tears spilled over. "I have nowhere else to go. No money, no family. This baby—" My hand moved protectively to my stomach. "This baby is all I have left." "And you still want to protect your husband?" His voice hardened with disbelief. "After he let another woman try to kill you?" "God, no!" The vehemence in my voice surprised even me. "Blake is the one mistake I'm desperate to erase from my life. But I can't have revenge if I don't survive. I need to live—to care for my child." Something flickered in Blackwood's expression, something almost human, but it vanished quickly. "Please," I tried again, swallowing my pride. "If you could just—" "No." The word fell like a hammer. "This news damages the Reynolds family, and as their biggest competitor, that benefits me." The cold, business-like assessment stunned me into silence. "Blake's always been sloppy," Blackwood continued, pacing slowly at the foot of my bed. "But this—a pregnant wife falling from his office window—this is a PR disaster that will haunt him for years." He paused, studying me with those storm-gray eyes that seemed to see right through me. Then he moved closer, looming over my hospital bed. "Marry me." The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?" "You heard me." His voice was cold, precise. "Become my wife." My jaw dropped. "You can't be serious." "Deadly." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Blake Reynolds' discarded wife marrying his biggest business rival mere weeks after their divorce? The press would eat it up. The Reynolds family would be humiliated. Their stock would plummet." "This is insane," I whispered. "You don't even know me. I'm pregnant with another man's child!" "I don't need to know you." He shrugged, the gesture elegant despite its dismissiveness. "This isn't about affection, Scarlett. It's strategy. You marry me, I gain a weapon against the Reynolds family. You gain financial security and my resources to extract whatever revenge you desire against your ex-husband." "You're asking me to jump from one loveless marriage straight into another?" My voice cracked with disbelief. This man is crazy. "I'm offering you protection," he countered, his eyes glittering dangerously. "Unlike Blake Reynolds, I'm honest about my intentions. No false promises. No pretend affection. Just mutual benefit." "No," I finally managed, shaking my head. "No, I won't be used again." "Think carefully, Scarlett." My name sounded dangerous on his lips. "With me, you'll have protection, resources, the best medical care for your child. Without me?" His lips curved in a cold smile. "The Reynolds family will destroy you. They'll take your baby. They'll make sure you never work in this city again. Or they'll decide you're not worth anything—they'll snuff you and your baby out. Is your pride worth that risk?" "I'd rather struggle on my own than be another man's property," I said, finding a sliver of defiance I didn't know I still possessed. Something that might have been respect flickered in his eyes before he shuttered his expression completely. "As you wish." He turned toward the door, and panic fluttered in my chest. What if he was right? What if this was my only chance? Before I could speak, he paused, one hand on the doorknob. "You have two more chances to accept my help." "Two more...?" I echoed, bewildered. "I'll make this offer exactly three times." His voice was colder than a winter storm. "This was the first. Not out of kindness, but strategic advantage." He checked his watch, the casual gesture somehow menacing. "I suggest you consider your options carefully before I make the second offer. The Reynolds family doesn't take public humiliation lightly." Just before the door closed, I sat straighter. “Wait.” He froze. Well here goes nothing. If this is the only way to make Blake and his family pay for everything I’ve been through, I’ll take it with both hands. “I… I accept.” I whispered. When he turned back to me, the smile on his face wasn’t supposed to be handsome at all. But chilling as it was, it was devastatingly handsome. “Good choice, Scarlett.” “I have conditions.” I blurted before thinking. Because when making a deal with the devil, you have to be wise enough to give yourself some wiggle room, And I definitely just made a deal with the devil. His smile broadened. “Oh? Let’s hear it then.”The boardroom felt different this time.Maybe it was because Marcus Blackstone was sitting in a federal holding cell instead of plotting my destruction. Maybe it was because the Van Alston stock price had soared thirty percent overnight once news of his arrest hit the markets. Or maybe it was simply because I walked in knowing I belonged here.Twelve faces looked at me with expressions ranging from admiration to resignation. Even Maeve couldn't quite manage her usual hostility, though she was clearly trying."The vote is straightforward," Richard Morrison said, consulting the documents spread in front of him. "Victoria Van Alston's will specifies that upon proof of identity and demonstration of competency, her granddaughter inherits full controlling interest in Van Alston Industries.""Along with all subsidiary holdings," Catherine Mills added, pulling up financial projections on her tablet. "Twelve companies across six countries, with combined assets valued at approximately 2.8 billi
I looked around the table, seeing understanding dawn in twelve faces that had been ready to surrender just moments before."So the question isn't whether we can survive his attacks," I said. "The question is whether we're brave enough to finish what we started."The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity.Then Richard smiled. "What do you need from us?"Day SevenThe press conference was scheduled for ten in the morning, held in the Van Alston building's main auditorium. Every major business news outlet had sent reporters, drawn by the promise of a "major announcement regarding the future of Van Alston Industries."They were expecting a surrender speech. An admission of defeat from an inexperienced heiress who'd been outmaneuvered by a corporate predator.Instead, I was about to destroy the most feared businessman in America."You ready for this?" Dominic asked, adjusting my jacket with hands that were steady despite the magnitude of what we were about to do."I've been read
Day SixHell arrived at nine in the morning, delivered by every news outlet in America.I stared at the wall of monitors in the war room, watching my reputation get torn apart in real time. CNN was running a segment about "inexperienced heiresses destroying family legacies." Fox Business had financial analysts calling Van Alston Industries "a cautionary tale about nepotism." The Wall Street Journal's headline read: "Van Alston Empire Crumbles Under Weight of Family Drama.""This is different from what we planned," Sarah said quietly, her fingers flying across her keyboard as she tried to track the source of the attacks. "These aren't the controlled leaks we orchestrated. Someone else is feeding information to the media.""Blackstone," I said, watching a particularly brutal segment where a business professor I'd never heard of explained why companies like Van Alston should be "put out of their misery before they drag down the entire market."But the media assault was just the beginning
He pulled out a tablet and showed me news headlines that painted Van Alston Industries as a company in crisis. "Cost overruns in the manufacturing division. Questions about accounting irregularities. Three major clients reconsidering their contracts."Every single headline had been planted by our team. Every crisis had been manufactured. But seeing them presented as evidence of my incompetence still stung."Business has its challenges," I said carefully."Of course it does. But some challenges are larger than others." He put the tablet away and leaned back in his chair. "I want to help, Scarlett. Blackstone International has the resources and expertise to stabilize Van Alston Industries before the situation becomes irreversible.""At what cost?""A very reasonable one. Full acquisition at forty percent above current market value. Your employees keep their jobs, your grandmother's legacy is preserved, and you walk away with enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life."T
Day Three"Le Bernardin at one o'clock," I said, ending the call with Blackstone's assistant. "Public enough that he can't try anything stupid, private enough for real conversation."Dominic looked up from his laptop where he'd been coordinating what looked like a small military operation. "You're sure about this?""Absolutely not," I said, settling into the chair across from him. "But that's never stopped me before."The war room had evolved overnight. Sarah's team had turned it into something that looked like NASA mission control, complete with multiple screens showing stock prices, news feeds, and social media analytics in real time. The energy was electric, everyone moving with the focused intensity of people who knew they were part of something bigger than themselves."Alright," I said, addressing the room. "Here's what we're going to do. By the time I sit down with Marcus Blackstone tomorrow, Van Alston Industries needs to look like a company in free fall."A few people exchange
Day Two I woke up with the solution. It came to me in that strange space between sleeping and waking, when my subconscious mind finally processed all the information I'd been feeding it. I sat up in bed so fast it made my head spin, but the clarity was absolute. Marcus Blackstone targeted emotional vulnerabilities because he didn't have any himself. Or at least, he'd convinced himself he didn't. Which meant he wouldn't see his own weakness until it was too late. I found Dominic in the kitchen area of the executive apartment, looking unfairly handsome in a white dress shirt and dark slacks. Coffee was brewing, and something that smelled like actual food was warming in the oven. "You look like someone who just solved world hunger," he said, handing me a mug of coffee that was perfectly prepared—cream, no sugar, exactly how I liked it. "I know what we're going to do," I said, accepting the coffee and the kiss he pressed to my temple. "I know how to beat him." "Tell me." "We're