CHAPTER 2

Serafina Moncrieff POV

The heavy leather door clicked shut, sealing me inside an underground office that felt more like a sleek, soundproof fortress beneath Financial District. The air was frigid, smelling faintly of expensive cedarwood and cold concrete.

Sitting behind a massive obsidian desk was Lucian Kensington.

He didn't look like a typical lender or corporate executive. He wore a charcoal suit tailored so impeccably it bordered on dangerous, his posture relaxed yet radiating an intoxicating, lethal authority. Sharp jawline, dark eyes that cut through you like glass, and an aura that screamed absolute power.

"Serafina Moncrieff," he spoke, his voice low, deep, and unnervingly calm as he swirled amber liquid in a crystal glass. "Or should I say, the most creative fraudster Manhattan has seen this decade?"

I pressed my lips together, standing straight even while my inner world was burning to ashes. Don't show weakness. The moment you break in front of Lucian Kensington, he'll crush what's left of you.

"I didn't steal your money, Mr. Kensington," I said, my voice tight. "It was an advance loan against—"

"Against a phantom shell company in the Cayman Islands?" Lucian cut in, leaning forward. He tapped a single key on his sleek monitor, turning it slightly so I could see the screen. "Your fake trust funds, your offshore accounts, your fabricated audit reports—all dismantled in less than twenty minutes. You spent three years building a digital ghost, Serafina. Quite impressive, honestly. But terribly stupid."

He gestured to the papers stacked neatly on his desk.

"As of 9:00 PM tonight, Kensington Capital has seized all assets associated with the Moncrieff name. Your penthouse on the Upper East Side? Locked down. Your bank accounts? Frozen. Your vintage jewelry collection? Confiscated." He looked up, his dark gaze locking onto mine with zero mercy. "You have a grand total of zero dollars and zero cents to your name."

The cold reality hit me like a splash of ice water. I had known this moment was coming, but hearing it spelled out so clinically made my lungs seize. Everything was gone. My status, my home, my safety net—poof.

"My mother..." My voice cracked, breaking my calm facade. "The wire transfer for St. Jude’s—"

"Reversed," Lucian said coldly. "The moment the fraud alarm sounded, all outgoing transactions from your flagged accounts were blocked. Including the payments to the hospital."

A sharp gasp escaped my throat. "No... no, you can't do that! She passed away tonight! I need those funds to clear her medical bills, to arrange her funeral—"

"You used stolen credit to pay for her care, Serafina," Lucian interrupted, completely unbothered by my distress. "The law doesn't make exceptions for grief. And neither do I."

"She’s my mother!" I yelled, taking a desperate step toward the desk, but the guard near the door immediately shifted forward. Lucian raised a single hand, stopping the guard, his eyes fixed on me.

"And I am the man who holds a ten-million-dollar arrest warrant with your name on it," Lucian replied smoothly. "You committed wire fraud, grand larceny, and bank forgery. Do you have any idea how many decades you'll spend in a federal penitentiary?"

I swallowed hard, my chest aching so badly I couldn't breathe properly. Is this really how it ends? My mother dead in a cold hospital room, and me going straight to jail in an emerald evening gown?

I was entirely alone. No family to back me up, no friends who would actually care once they found out I was broke, and no lawyer powerful enough to fight Kensington Capital. I was at rock bottom, stripped down to nothing.

"What do you want from me?" I whispered, looking straight into his dark, unreadable eyes. "You brought me here instead of handing me straight to the FBI. So stop playing games, Lucian. What do you actually want?"

A slow, razor-thin smile formed on his lips. It wasn't warm; it was calculating.

He stood up from his desk, his towering frame casting a long shadow over me as he walked around the obsidian table. He stopped just inches away, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around my senses like a silk trap.

"Smart girl," Lucian murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips before rising back to meet my eyes. "You're right. Sending you to prison gets me my publicity, but it doesn't solve my current problem. And right now, I need someone who knows how to play a role."

"What are you talking about?"

Lucian reached into his inner suit jacket and pulled out a heavy black folder, dropping it onto the edge of the desk right beside me.

"Tomorrow morning, news of your fake fortune will leak, or news of our engagement will hit the press. You pick."

I blinked, thoroughly stunned. "Our... what?"

"You heard me," Lucian said softly, stepping closer until I could feel the heat radiating off him. "My board of directors is pushing for a merger that requires a clean, respectable image. A sudden romance with an old-money heiress fits the narrative perfectly—at least until the deal goes through."

"I am not old money anymore," I pointed out, my voice trembling slightly. "You just wiped out my entire life."

"They don't know that yet," Lucian countered smoothly. "And as long as you stand by my side and play the dutiful, elegant fiancée, nobody will question it."

I stared at him, my mind spinning fast. A fake engagement? To the monster who just destroyed me?

"And if I refuse?" I asked.

Lucian pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. "Then the police waiting outside this building will take you into custody, your mother's body will be transferred to a state facility, and the Moncrieff name will be dragged through the dirt by midnight."

Every option was a trap, but one gave me a sliver of leverage to bury my mother with dignity.

"If I do this," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady, "you clear my mother's hospital debts. You fund her funeral properly. No state facilities, no media circus."

Lucian stared down at me for a long, heavy moment, evaluating my terms like a businessman weighing a contract. Finally, he gave a slow nod.

"Deal." He pointed toward the door. "My car will take you to a hotel for tonight. Don't try to run, Serafina. Every exit in this city is watched by my men."

He turned his back on me, returning to his desk as if I were nothing more than a signed transaction.

I turned around and walked out of the office, every step feeling like I was walking deeper into the lion's den.