Chapter One"Sign the divorce papers, Ethan."Sarah's voice cut through the visitation room like a blade—cold, final, utterly devoid of the warmth he'd clung to for three years.Ethan stared at the woman standing across from him, trying to reconcile her with the Sarah he remembered. The Sarah who'd promised to wait. The Sarah who'd sworn they'd finally have their wedding the day he walked free.But this woman wore a designer pantsuit that probably cost more than most people made in a month. Her manicured nails drummed impatiently against the manila folder she'd slapped onto the steel table between them.No wedding dress. No warm smile. Just divorce papers."What's going on?" Ethan asked, his voice steady despite the confusion tightening his chest. "Is someone threatening you? Did something happen?"Sarah laughed—sharp and mocking. "Threatening me? God, you really are delusional." She leaned forward, eyes gleaming with contempt. "This is my decision, Ethan. All mine. No one's forcing m

Chapter ThreeOf all the places in Boston, Ethan hadn't expected to see them here.Sarah.Drake.Standing in the middle of B Corporation's marble-floored lobby like they owned the place.The irony was almost poetic.But unlike their shock at finding him, Ethan's expression remained cold, controlled. That rage from earlier—the cold, simmering hatred he'd felt when Sarah first appeared—still burned beneath the surface. But he'd learned long ago how to wear a mask.Three years in prison had taught him patience.Ethan stood slowly, adjusting his sleeves with deliberate calm, and met Sarah's furious gaze."I'm not here for you," he said flatly. "I'm here at someone else's request. You're not worth my time."Sarah's jaw dropped, clearly not expecting that response.Drake laughed—sharp and mocking. "Someone else's request?" He stepped forward, sneering. "Who the hell in B Corporation would invite you? What, did they need an ex-con for security? Maybe you're here to keep the peace as their ne

Chapter Five"What do you want from me, Ms. Chen?" Ethan asked.Victoria stepped back, gesturing toward the seating area. "Please, have a seat, Mr. Cole.""Ethan is fine."He moved to the leather couch, settling into it with the ease of someone who'd been on his feet far too long today.Victoria studied him as he sat—young, sharp-featured, composed. But she'd noticed the way he'd looked at her when he first walked in. That brief, unguarded moment when his eyes had lingered just a beat too long. Admiration, yes. But something more.Interest. Attraction. Maybe even a crush.Her lips curved slightly. So the young Mr. Cole wasn't as unaffected as he pretended to be.That made him seem... flippant. A bit too easily swayed by a pretty face. Her father had warned her repeatedly to treat this man with the utmost respect, insisting he was someone capable of helping her. But looking at him now—so young, and clearly a little starstruck—she couldn't help but wonder if her father had misjudged him

Chapter SevenDrake's car pulled up in front of the Grand Harrington Hotel—a towering structure of glass and marble that dominated Boston's skyline. The venue for Victoria Chen's charity gala.Sarah stepped out in a flowing green gown, the hem short in front but trailing dramatically behind her. Her hair cascaded over her bare shoulders in styled waves. She flipped it back with practiced elegance, her chin lifted high as she took Drake's arm.Heads turned as they entered the lobby.Whispers rippled through the crowd. The rumors had been circulating for weeks—Drake Hastings and Sarah, Boston's rising CEO. A possible marriage alliance. New money meeting old money.Sarah smiled, soaking in the attention. She could already hear them: The next Mrs. Hastings. The elevation would do wonders for her family's status."Thank you so much for bringing me, Drake," she said sweetly, clinging to his arm. "If I can make a connection with Victoria Chen tonight—get her to lift the blacklist and restore

Chapter Nine **Meanwhile, inside the banquet hall…**The ballroom screamed money.Chandeliers hung from high ceilings, marble floors polished until they reflected light like mirrors, silk tablecloths, flowers that probably cost more than a car. The air smelled expensive—champagne, perfume, wealth packed into one massive room.Boston's elite filled the space. Old-money families, business tycoons, politicians. Everyone dressed to impress, conversations flowing smoothly as servers moved through the crowd with trays of drinks and appetizers. A string quartet played somewhere in the background.This was where deals were made. Where power shifted hands over cocktails.Ethan stood near the edge, champagne glass in hand—untouched. His eyes moved across the room, watching, studying.Victoria had asked him to observe. Figure out who was worth her time.But something else had caught his attention.A group of men near the bar. Expensive suits. Confidence. One wore cufflinks with the Stone family