Enter Dominic Cross

Julian didn't release Evelyn’s hand under the table. His thumb dug firmly into the soft skin of her palm, a quiet, unyielding anchor beneath the heavy linen.

"My personal life is not open for debate at this table, Uncle," Julian said, his tone entirely level, though the muscle along his jawline twitched once. "We came to discuss the Q3 performance reports, not to satisfy your curiosity."

Harrison laughed softly, a dry, rasping sound that rattled in his throat. He picked up his wine glass again, swirling the deep red liquid around the rim. "Curiosity is the lifeblood of business, nephew. When a man moves as fast as you do, one has to wonder what—or who—is pushing him."

Before Julian could answer, the double oak doors at the end of the dining hall swung open with a sharp, heavy thud.

The head butler stepped inside, looking visibly flustered as he adjusted his white gloves. "Mr. Vance, sir... excuse the interruption, but another guest has arrived at the front gates."

Harrison didn't look surprised. He casually set his glass back down and checked the thin gold watch on his wrist. "Ah, right on time. Show him in, Thomas."

Julian’s posture shifted instantly. His grip on Evelyn’s hand tightened so hard her fingers numbly pressed together, her diamond ring cutting into her index finger. Beside them, Arthur Sterling dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud, metallic clatter.

"Harrison," Arthur said, his thick eyebrows pulling together in a sharp glare. "Who else did you invite to a private board dinner?"

"Someone with a vested interest in our shipping lines," Harrison replied, his thin lips curving into a smug smile as he gestured toward the open entryway. "A man who knows the value of timing."

Footsteps echoed off the high marble walls of the corridor—heavy, unhurried, and precise.

A man stepped into the light of the crystal chandeliers. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a midnight-blue double-breasted suit that screamed bespoke Italian tailoring. His dark hair was combed back sharply, revealing a cut jawline and striking, pale grey eyes that scanned the room with predatory calm.

Dominic Cross. CEO of Cross Global Logistics, Vance Enterprise’s fiercest corporate rival, and the man who had tried to hostilely take over three of Julian’s regional subsidiaries last winter.

"Dominic," Harrison said, standing up with the help of his teak cane and extending a hand across the table. "Thank you for making the drive on such short notice."

"It’s no trouble at all, Harrison," Dominic replied. His voice was deep, smooth, and laced with an arrogant ease that instantly sucked the air out of the room. "I never turn down an invitation to witness history."

He shook Harrison’s hand briefly before turning his gaze toward the rest of the table. When his eyes landed on Julian, a slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face.

"Julian," Dominic said, bowing his head half an inch in a mock show of respect. "I saw your morning press conference on the news ticker while flying in from New York. Congratulations. A sudden marriage is quite the defensive play, even for you."

Julian slowly slid his hand out from under the table, placing both palms flat on the wood as he stood up. He towered over the place setting, his suit jacket unbuttoned, his eyes burning with a dark, dangerous intensity.

"You're trespassing, Cross," Julian said, his voice dropping into a register so low it made the crystal glasses on the table vibrate faintly. "This is a private Vance estate."

"I invited him, nephew," Harrison interjected smoothly, leaning heavily on his cane as he gestured to an empty seat at the far end of the table. "Dominic's firm has offered to buy out Arthur's fifteen percent shipping shares at a twenty percent premium above market value. Naturally, as head of the family trust, I felt it was my duty to hear his proposal."

Arthur Sterling shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Julian’s gaze entirely. The betrayal was obvious—Arthur was using Dominic as leverage to force Julian into a corner before the upcoming board vote.

Evelyn watched the exchange, her breath hitching in her throat. She knew the name Dominic Cross. Her father had mentioned him years ago during the bankruptcy proceedings—Cross Global was famous for buying up distressed assets and stripping them down to the bone for profit.

"The board hasn't approved a share transfer to a third-party competitor," Julian said, stepping out from behind his chair. The tension surrounding him was thick, suffocating, and volatile. "And they won't. I hold veto power over any outside acquisitions until the trust distributes in September."

"Until September," Dominic repeated softly, taking a step closer to the table. "Which is only six weeks away, assuming your new marital status holds up under legal scrutiny."

Dominic turned his head, his pale grey eyes sliding away from Julian and landing directly on Evelyn.

The room went dead silent. The two board members stopped breathing, and even Harrison lowered his head slightly to observe the interaction.

Evelyn sat rigid in her chair, her back straight, her hands clasped tightly in her lap over her emerald dress. She felt Dominic’s gaze tracking her face, her collarbone, and the heavy diamond ring resting on her left hand.

Dominic didn't look at her like a stranger. He looked at her with an intense, calculating interest that made the skin on her neck prickle.

Instead of taking the seat Harrison had offered at the end of the table, Dominic walked directly past Julian, his polished leather shoes making quiet, rhythmic thuds against the Persian rug. He stopped right beside Evelyn’s chair, ignoring the way Julian’s fists clenched at his sides just two feet away.

Dominic reached down, taking Evelyn’s right hand before she could pull it back. His fingers were warm, his grip smooth and firm as he raised her knuckles toward his lips.

He bent his head slightly, placing a soft, deliberate kiss on the back of her skin, his eyes never leaving hers as he looked up through his lashes.

"We finally meet, beautiful," Dominic purred, his voice smooth as velvet.