Hunter Bancroft wasn't used to being dismissed.
Especially not by a woman in a thrift-store blazer and scuffed heels.
He watched Delilah Rivera walk out of the penthouse, her spine straight, her stride sharp. She didn't look back. Not once.
That was new.
Most women lingered. They batted lashes, dropped hints, left perfume in the air like breadcrumbs. But Delilah? She left silence. And a challenge.
Hunter turned back to the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city glittering beneath him like a kingdom he was born to rule. And yet, for the first time in a long time, he felt... off-balance.
"She's different," he muttered.
"Who?" came a voice behind him.
His assistant, Jordan, stepped in, tablet in hand, eyebrows raised.
"No one," Hunter said quickly. "What's next?"
Jordan smirked. "The board meeting at three. And your mother called. Twice."
Of course she did.
Victoria Bancroft didn't like surprises. And Delilah Rivera was a walking, talking disruption.
Hunter remembered the fire in her eyes, the way she didn't flinch when he tested her. She wasn't intimidated by his name. She wasn't impressed by his money.
She was... real.
And real was rare in his world.
"Reschedule the board," Hunter said suddenly.
Jordan blinked. "Sir?"
"I've got somewhere to be."
He didn't wait for a response. He was already dialing a number, one he'd memorized from her business card.
It rang once. Twice.
Then her voice, cool and clipped: "Delilah Rivera. Make it quick."
Hunter grinned.
"I don't like being told no," he said.
A pause. Then: "Then you're going to hate me."
Click.
She hung up.
Hunter stared at his phone, stunned---and then laughed. A deep, genuine laugh that startled even him.
This woman was going to be a problem.
And he couldn't wait to solve her.