Chapter one
Chapter 1
The office was built like a fortress, with steel, glass, and calculated elegance. Perched atop a three-storey Georgian building overlooking the Thames, it felt less like a workspace and more like a vantage point. Cold light spilt through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching on the dark lines of the walnut furniture and the razor profile of the man behind the desk. It sat high on a cliff, the sea spread out endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Cold light poured in, catching on the dark lines of the furniture and the sharper edges of the man behind the desk.
Dorian didn't look up as Jacob shifted nervously in the chair opposite him. Dorian had never invited him to sit before. Change never represented anything good when it came to Dorian.
"You're in love with her," Dorian said in a bloodless voice. He might have been discussing the weather, for all the emotion in that single statement.
Jacob's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I... never meant-"
"You were supposed to watch her. Not write poetry in your head while you gazed upon her doe eyes like a dying swan,” Dorian continued as if he had not spoken.
Jacob flushed, and Dorian finally lifted his gaze.
Dorian had the kind of face that had no business being beautiful, but was, in a feral, sun-bitten way. Sharp cheekbones, sun-kissed skin, and a mouth that rarely smiled, though it seemed to be made for sin. His blond hair was a dishevelled crown of salt and wind, making himlook more like a reckless surfer than a man who could ruin lives before breakfast. A deceptive sprinkling of freckles dusted the bridge of his nose and cheeks. But there was nothing carefree about Dorian.
He was a maverick – ruthless, brilliant, and rich enough to retire three times over. But he didn't. He liked problems. He liked puzzles. Especially ones only he could solve.
"Aria is not for you," Dorian continued, his tone emotionless. "She's not for anyone. She's engaged to Crispin. She's also my friend now."
Jacob looked up and dared. "She deserves better."
Dorian arched a brow. "And that's you? The accountant with misplaced fantasies? A white picket fence and a semi-detached house in the fringes of London, is it?"
Jacob's jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
"Get rid of the feelings," Dorian said, steel threading into his voice. "Or I'll get rid of you."
Jacob jerked like he had been slapped. He rose silently, the embarrassment painting his cheeks and neck a dusky red.
Dorian didn't watch him leave. He was already bored. The man was done. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, staring at the sea. One problem down. Ten more waiting. Zurich, Warsaw, Singapore. He had his fingers in every pie worth tasting, and a few that would burn most men down to the bone. A few that were not strictly legal. He always liked a challenge.
A knock at the door broke the quiet.
"Enter."
She walked in like a whisper – quiet, smooth, and perfectly composed.
Rune.
She was striking. Not beautiful in the traditional sense, but compelling. Her features were strong and Slavic. Dark brows, sharp cheekbones, and a generous mouth that always looked on the verge of amusement. Today, her dark hair was pulled back loosely, a few strands brushing her cheeks. Freckles dotted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She wore a soft charcoal blouse tucked into tailored trousers, and her blue-grey eyes avoided his, fixed instead on the file in her hands.
"Zurich," she said, placing it on the desk.
Dorian took it, though he didn't glance at the content. Rune had been a gamble once. Straight out of university, brilliant and broke. She walked into his office with trembling hands and impressive credentials, but no experience. He had hired her on instinct and trained her personally. Professionally. Intimately.
She had signed the NDA. Her eyes had widened at the conditions, and he had watched her swallow before controlling her nervousness and scribbling her signature on the dotted line.
He'd taken her virginity the week after. A week of the cat and mouse game that he had enjoyed more than the multimillion-dollar deal he had closed a week prior. It had been a novelty, one he had no interest in repeating. Rune, for all her calm exterior, had been exquisite. Obedient. Efficient. Quick on her feet and off them, he mused. Even quicker on her knees. He had moulded her into the perfect tool, both in and out of bed.
And for years after, she had remained exactly what he needed – capable, emotionless, and loyal. If he had sensed a time or two that she was desperate for more, he had ignored it. But today, something wasdifferent. And like the born predator he was, he could smell the blood in the water.
A flicker in her eyes. A hesitation too long. He watched her with the unblinking eyes of a shark. "You're not focused. Has Helga been taken care of?"
She blinked as if startled from her thoughts and held his pitch-black eyes. "I'm fine. And yes."
"You were fine yesterday," he said quietly. "But now, there's a problem."
