The sunlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, casting golden hues over the luxurious bedroom. White silk sheets were tangled around naked bodies sprawled across the bed, the aftermath of another meaningless night.
Kayden Russo lay on his back, arm resting lazily behind his head, radiating nothing but satisfaction. His chiseled body, sculpted by years of discipline and control, was relaxed—unlike the woman beside him, who had begun to stir.
She turned over, her manicured fingers tracing the muscles on his chest.
Here we go again. He could already tell what was coming next.
"Good morning," she purred, eyes filled with something foolish—hope. Kayden exhaled slowly, not even bothering to open his eyes.
Why do they always think this means something? She pressed her body closer, her lips grazing his shoulder. " Last night was…incredible."
His patience was already wearing thin. "It was." His voice was smooth but detached.
She giggled, clearly expecting more. "So…i was thinking–" whatever she was about to say was cut off by the loud, unmistakable sound of his bedroom door bursting open.
"Kayden!"
A deep, irritated groan rumbled from his chest. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was.
Nathan Carter. His best friend, his right-hand man, and the only person who dared to disrupt his mornings without warning.
The woman beside Kayden let out a startled yelp, scrambling for the sheets to cover herself. Kayden, however, didn't move an inch.
His expressions remained impassive as Nathan stormed in, a thick folder in his hand, jaw tight with barely contained frustration. Nathan didn't even acknowledge the woman. He simply walked straight to the bedside table, dropped the folder with a loud thud, and folded his arms.
Kayden sighed and finally opened his eyes, glancing lazily at his friend. "Whatever it is, it can wait."
"No it can't," Nathan shot back. "Did you fuck Mr. Adam's wife?"
Silence.
The woman beside him let out a small gasp, eyes wide in disbelief.
Kayden, however, remained perfectly still, his expression unreadable.
Nathan scoffed, rubbing his forehead. "Of course you did."
Kayden finally sat up, running a hand through his tousled dark hair, completely unbothered.
"And?"
"And?" Nathan repeated, his frustration boiling over. "And now we've lost the Adams Global contract. That's a multi-million dollar deal, Kayden. You slept with his wife, and now he's pulling out."
Kayden let out a low chuckle, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. His muscular frame towered over them both as he stretched, entirely unashamed of his nakedness. The woman in bed clenched the sheets tighter, her face beet red.
Nathan clenched his jaw. "Are you even listening to me?"
Kayden grabbed a pair of sweatpants from a chair, slipping them on as he strolled toward the mini bar in his bedroom. He poured himself a drink—whiskey, despite the early hour.
Nathan ran a hand down his face in frustration. " Jesus, Kayden. You don't care, do you?
Kayden turned, raising a single eyebrow. "Do you?"
"Yes! Because unlike you, I actually care about our business not going up in flames because you can't keep it in your damn pants."
Kayden took a slow sip of his drink, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Relax, Nate. One deal won't break us".
"This isn't just about a lost deal, Kayden. Your name is everywhere. Scandal after scandal. People are starting to talk. Investors are getting nervous. Hell, even the board is questioning whether you're fit to run Russo Enterprises because of your recklessness. " Nathan said.
That caught his attention.
Kayden's fingers tightened around the file, his jaw clenching. "The board?"
Nathan nodded grimly. "They want stability. A more… respectable image, they are threatening to vote you out as CEO of Russo Enterprises."
Kayden froze mid-sip, the ice in his glass clicking against the rim. His jaw ticked. For the first time in a long time, he felt it—panic. Cold, quiet, and unfamiliar. He didn't show it, of course. But it coiled around his spine.
Vote him out?
Over his father's empire?
Not on his watch.
He would be damned if he let some power-hungry board members take the empire his father had built from the ground—a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate that dominated industries across continents.
Russo enterprises wasn't just a company; it was a global powerhouse with stakes in finance, real estate, and technology. His empire was feared, respected, and untouchable.
Until now.
Kayden let out a slow breath. "Say that again."
Nathan exhaled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "The board's calling for a vote.
They want you out, Kayden. The scandals, the affairs, the reckless deals—they think you're bad for Russo's image. And to be fair, you fucked Mr. Adam's wife. That deal was worth billions.
Kayden's gaze darkened like a brewing storm. "That bastard was never going to sign," he said, his voice low but sharp enough to cut steel.
Nathan scoffed. "Yeah? Well, now he's rallying investors against you. If they win, you lose everything."
Just then, the woman in bed stirred. Still tangled in silk sheets, she sat up and stretched." Baby, come back to bed—"
"Get out," Kayden snapped.
She blinked, clearly confused. "What?"
He didn't even spare her a glance. Reaching for his wallet, he pulled out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills and tossed them on the bed.
"Take your tip and leave."
The woman gasped, her face shifting from shock to outrage.
Her lips parted, but no words came out. With a huff, she threw the covers off, snatched her dress from the floor, and stomped out.The door slammed behind her.
Nathan chuckled. "You never disappoint."
Kayden barely reacted. Instead, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on his best friend. "They won't fucking win."
Nathan sat across from him, his usual smirk gone. "Then we need a plan. Something big."
For the first time that morning, silence stretched between them.
Then like clockwork, Nathan reached for the remote and turned on the TV.
A live broadcast filled the massive screen. The backdrop? A packed auditorium. A man in a crisp navy suit stood at the pulpit, addressing thousands with unwavering authority.
Kayden frowned. "Who the hell is that?"
Nathan smirked. "That, my friend, is your solution."
The name appeared in bold letters at the bottom of the screen: Pastor Richard Bennett.
Nathan leaned back, arms folded, eyes never leaving the screen.
"Rumor is, he's knee-deep in dirty money. Laundering, offshore accounts, shady donors—the works. But he's got the robe, the cross, and a choir behind him, so no one dares say it out loud."
He paused, watching the pastor's image fill the massive screen—charming, commanding, untouchable.
"The government's sniffing around though. Word is, they're building a case. Slowly. Quietly. All they need is one misstep, and he burns."
Kayden's brows drew together slightly, the weight of that information settling in. But Nathan wasn't done.
He turned to face him fully, voice lower now—measured and deliberate.
"He's desperate to clean up. Wants to rewrite the narrative before it turns on him. And I think we've just found the one thing that could solve both your problems."
Kayden didn't respond, just looked at him with that cold, unreadable stare.
Nathan's lips curled, voice dropping just above a whisper.
"He has a daughter."
He let the words hang.
"Beautiful. Smart. Untouched by his mess. She's his golden ticket.
"You marrying his daughter, Bianca? That's not just a redemption arc for you. It's salvation for him."
A beat.
"Think about it—what better way to clean his image than handing over his perfect, scandal-free daughter to the most powerful billionaire in the country? It screams alliance, power, stability. It tells the world: he's got nothing to hide, and now he's family to a man who could crush any investigation before it even makes headlines."
Nathan leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming.
"You need a spotless reputation. He needs a shield. This marriage gives you both exactly what you want. And neither of you gives a damn who gets hurt in the process."
Kayden exhaled slowly. A calculated move. A way to silence his enemies. A way to protect his empire. He leaned back in his chair, a slow, predatory smirk creeping onto his lips.
"If they want a perfect Kayden Russo, I'll give them one. Wrapped in white silk and church hymns."
"Set it up."
He didn't care who she was. She was a tool—a solution.
And he always used his tools well.