Lena's POV Karl always had his way of making me crawl back to him like a dog. I knew his methods but again, I was not familiar with it enough to be avle to identify it this time around when I saw my phone ring.A part of me was conflicted on what I was supposed to do. I could not answer it. Assert the dominance I was slowly beginning to realize I had to set, those boundaries that he always crossed now seeming like too much for me as I took in another lengthy sigh. I eventually decided against it, picking up the call." What do you want?"" What do I want? Is that how you talk to me now?"His voice was a different kind of annoying today. Maybe it was because I finally realized just how far he would go to hurt me, or maybe my head was still too sore from when I hit it on the bathtub but whatever the reason was, anger pulsated through me." I asked what you wanted. Or do you want to call more men to beat me up for something I did not do?"He gave a light chuckle like my safety has neve

Ace POVThe plane engines droned on like some endless headache I couldn’t shake. I sat there in the wide seat, staring out the window at nothing but clouds and sky, my jaw tight. The spot next to me was empty. Cold. That seat had her name on it—Lena. Reserved. Paid for. And now it just sat there mocking me like everything else in my fucked up life.I shifted, rubbing my palm over my face. The glass from that night still left a faint scar, but it was nothing compared to the mess in my chest. Why didn’t she come? One minute she was ready—fire in her eyes, that determined look that always made my cock twitch and my heart race—and the next, her sister showed up at the door looking like death warmed over. Kamsy barely said two words before Lena’s whole face changed. She squeezed my hand hard, muttered something about handling it, and then she was gone. Just like that. Car doors slamming. Taillights fading. No real explanation.Fuck.I leaned my head against the cool window, breath fogging

Ace POVI stood in front of that massive mirror in the penthouse, tugging at the black tuxedo like it was choking me. The fabric was smooth, expensive as hell, but it felt wrong. Too put together. Too much like the man I used to pretend I was before Clara ripped everything apart. My fingers fumbled with the cufflinks, and for a second I remembered Lena’s hands on me instead—those sharp nails dragging down my chest, her breath hot against my neck while she whispered filthy shit that made my cock throb. Fuck. I shook my head hard. Not now.A gentle knock sounded on the door.“Yeah, come in,” I called, voice rough.The door opened quietly and a young Japanese guy stepped inside, bowing low and respectful. Kid looked fresh out of college, uniform crisp, face polite as hell.“Mr. Sinclair, the driver is ready downstairs whenever you are, sir.”I nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be right down.”He bowed again and slipped out. I took one last look at myself. Sharp jaw. Tired eyes. The kind of face th

Ace POVThe moment the jet doors opened and I stepped into the terminal, the chaos hit me like a goddamn slap. Cameras flashed like strobe lights in a cheap club, reporters shoving microphones forward, security struggling to keep the pack from swallowing me whole. My jaw clenched so tight I could feel the muscle ticking. Welcome home, asshole. Japan had been a brief illusion of control—polite smiles, sealed deals, no Clara, no drama. Now reality was back, teeth bared.“Mr. Sinclair! How was the Japanese festival?”I forced my face into something neutral, the same practiced mask I’d worn through boardrooms and broken marriages. “It was wonderful,” I said, voice low and even. “Productive. The connections we made will open major doors for expansion. Real collaboration with the Japanese community—stronger reach, better opportunities.”Another voice cut through, sharper, fishing. “Why didn’t your wife Clara join you? With the pregnancy news, are things okay at home? Is the marriage strug

Ace POVI walked into the building like a man heading into battle—suit sharp, jaw set, every step measured even though my mind was a fucking warzone. Japan had given me breathing room, but the second the glass doors slid shut behind me, the weight crashed back down. Whispers trailed me across the lobby. Eyes followed. I ignored them and rode the elevator up, knuckles white around my briefcase.Nadia was waiting right outside my office, tablet clutched like a shield. “Mr. Sinclair. Welcome back. While you were gone the stocks took a hit from the press nightmare, but the Japan coverage turned it around fast. Board’s already in the conference room.”“Short version?” I asked, loosening my tie as we walked.She rattled off the highlights—media fallout, nervous investors, the usual mess I’d expected. I pushed open the conference room door and the entire table stood. Applause rolled through the room, real this time. I took my seat, nodding once.The reports came fast and positive. My move