It’s a contract.
A merger.
Their transport empire, my diamond dynasty—united in strategic bliss.
I don’t need romance. I need reach. Territory. Legacy.
And Ariana… she’ll be just another diamond. Polished. Pretty. Proper.
It’ll work.
It has to.
The door creaks open behind me. I turn slowly, already schooling my features into something polite. Acceptable.
And then I see her.
She’s young. So young.
A pale pink dress. Soft blonde curls. Nervous eyes. She glances to her parents like she needs permission to breathe.
Ariana.
My fiancée.
Fuck.
She can’t be more than twenty-one. My jaw locks as I extend a hand out of duty, not desire.
She gives me a smile that appears rehearsed.
Her palm is clammy in mine.
It takes everything I have not to look away.
“She’s eager to start this chapter,” Mr. Kensington says proudly. “Fresh-faced, untouched, and obedient.”
My jawclenches.
I glance down at her again and feel it in my chest—this sinking certainty that I can’t do this. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever sleep with someone who looks like she still asks permission to go out after dark.
We’ll find another way to carry the name forward. We’ll have to.
Then the moment cracks.
The quiet is broken by the sharp click of heels on marble.
Deliberate. Confident. Lethal.
I turn—and the world stops spinning.
Emerald green dress. Auburn hair spilling down her shoulders. Eyes that flash like they already know what I’m thinking. She moves through the doorway like she’s walking into war—and she’s not here to lose.
Her.
The waitress.
She’s not in black jeans and a bar apron now. She’s... radiant. Dangerous. Unfazed.
