The elevator doors slid open with a muted chime.
A man stepped out, tall, late forties, wearing a navy suit that screamed old money and sharper knives. His silver hair was cut to precision, his eyes cool and assessing.
Lena didn't know him but the way Isabella's smirk faltered told her enough.
"Adrian Black," Nathaniel said flatly. "You weren't invited."
Adrian's lips curved in a polite, dangerous smile. "Nathaniel, you know I don't wait for invitations. Especially when you're dealing cards I helped print."
He walked into the penthouse like he owned it, ignoring Lena, ignoring Isabella, until he stood opposite Nathaniel at the glass table.
Lena's stomach twisted. This wasn't just another player. This was someone who thought he was above the game.
"And who exactly are you?" she demanded before she could stop herself.
Adrian turned his gaze on her, amused. "Ah. The pretty face in the headlines. Miss Voss, isn't it? Your fall from grace was… entertaining."
Heat rose in her cheeks, but she forced her voice steady. "I asked who you are, not what you've read."
Isabella laughed, delighted. "Oh, Lena. Meet Adrian Black the man who taught Nathaniel how to sharpen his teeth."
Lena's pulse spiked. Mentor., Rival, Maybe both.
Adrian didn't deny it. He simply slid into a chair, unbuttoning his jacket with a practiced ease. "I came to see if the rumors were true. That Nathaniel Cross, the coldest player in the market, was letting sentiment cloud his judgment."
Nathaniel's expression didn't flicker, but the air thickened around him.
"Sentiment?" Lena asked carefully.
Adrian's eyes glittered. "You. He drags you into this penthouse, gives you a seat at his table, puts a file in front of you that most CEOs would kill to see. Why? Not because of your company. Arcadia is a sinking ship. No, darling. It's because of you."
Lena's heart thudded, but she refused to look at Nathaniel.
Isabella leaned forward, purring. "I said it, didn't I? He thinks she's special. But special doesn't last long in this world."
Adrian steepled his fingers, studying Lena like she was an experiment. "Tell me, Miss Voss, what makes you worth the trouble?"
She swallowed hard. "I don't owe you an answer."
Adrian chuckled. "Sharp tongue. I like that. But sharp tongues don't win wars. Deals do."
He reached across the table, plucking the unopened folder from her hands.
"Hey!" she snapped.
Adrian ignored her, flipping it open with leisurely interest. His eyes scanned the first page, then the second, and his smirk widened.
"Well, well. Nathaniel, you've grown bold. Offering her that?"
Lena's chest tightened. "What does it say?"
Adrian looked at her, almost pitying. "It says you're not just a pawn. You're collateral. A bargaining chip wrapped in pretty packaging. And if you sign—your freedom is the first thing you'll lose."
Lena's breath caught. She looked at Nathaniel, searching for denial. But his silence was damning.
Adrian tossed the folder back onto the table. "I came to remind you, Nathaniel sentiment is weakness. And weakness destroys empires. If you can't finish the girl, I will."
The words hung in the air like a blade.
Isabella's smile was vicious now. "Finally, someone speaking sense."
Nathaniel's jaw tightened. His voice was calm, but the steel in it was unmistakable. "Touch her, Adrian, and you'll regret it."
Adrian laughed softly. "Ah, there's the Cross I remember. Fierce. Ruthless. Protective, even when it costs him. The question is, Nathaniel… are you protecting her, or protecting yourself from what happens when she breaks?"
The tension in the room was a wire pulled too tight.
Lena's hands curled into fists. She'd been humiliated, threatened, cornered but she refused to let these men decide her fate like she wasn't even there.
"You're all wrong," she said sharply, cutting through the silence.
Three sets of eyes turned on her.
"I'm not a pawn. I'm not leverage. And I'm not anyone's weakness. You want me in this game? Then deal me in. But if you think you're going to use me like a piece on your board try it. I dare you."
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
Then Nathaniel's lips curved, the faintest flicker of approval in his eyes.
Adrian's smile cooled. "Careful, Miss Voss. Daring me has never ended well for anyone."
The elevator chimed again, echoing through the penthouse. Someone else was arriving.
Lena's blood ran cold. How many players were about to fill this table?