Dominic Blackwood did not like surprises. He loathed them. They were unpredictable, messy human.
And yet, here he was, standing in the penthouse office of Blackwood Industries, staring at the rain slick city below, feeling a flicker of irritation? No, curiosity. Something he didn't like admitting.
The phone on his mahogany desk vibrated. He didn't need to look. He already knew.
"Mr. Blackwood," his assistant's voice said cautiously over the line. "Your father is on the line. He insists it's urgent."
Dominic pressed the receiver to his ear. "What is it?" His voice was ice low, calm, unyielding.
There was a pause on the other end. Then. "It's about Aria Kingsley."
His lips tightened. The name had appeared on his radar months ago, whispered in boardrooms, highlighted in news articles about the Kingsley family empire. A beautiful, intelligent, and headstrong heiress who apparently was about to become his responsibility.
"Go on," he said.
"She's your fiancée," his father said. Dominic didn't move, didn't blink. "The marriage is"
Dominic cut him off. "You mean the deal."
"Yes," his father said. "The deal. I understand you weren't expecting this."
He wasn't. But Dominic didn't show it. He never showed it. Surprise was for amateurs. Professionals adapted. He adapted. Always.
"I'm not opposed to the arrangement," Dominic said slowly, letting each word hang in the air. "But I do not tolerate emotional interference. Or incompetence. Or anyone assuming my compliance is a courtesy."
His father chuckled nervously. "Of course. But Aria"
"She is not my concern," Dominic said, his tone final. "Her concerns are irrelevant to me unless they affect my assets or my reputation. Otherwise, she is merely collateral."
There it was. The word that always chilled people around him, collateral. Human or not, Dominic treated everything, people, property, contracts, with the same ruthlessness. And he had never lost.
"You are cold," his father said, almost apologetically. "Even for you."
"Cold keeps me alive," Dominic replied. "Warmth kills. Emotions are messy. I prefer efficiency."
There was silence on the line. Then his father said, "She's different. She's stubborn."
Dominic's eyebrow arched. Stubborn was good. That meant she would fight. That meant she had a backbone. That meant she would be interesting.
He tapped a finger on the desk, the sound echoing against the marble floor. He had spent years learning to predict every move in a negotiation, every weakness in an opponent. And now he had a person he could not predict someone whose defiance could be inconvenient, or perhaps entertaining.
He smiled. A small, calculating smile.
"Stubborn can be broken," he said softly, almost to himself. Then louder.
"Send the arrangements. I will review the contracts tomorrow. And make sure my calendar clears for the engagement proceedings. I like my first impressions memorable."
His father's sigh carried through the line. "You're ruthless."
"I'm Dominic Blackwood," he reminded. "Ruthless is my business model."
The call ended, leaving him alone with the city lights, the rain, and the weight of a decision he hadn't yet had to make.
He walked to the floor, to ceiling, window and stared down at the glittering streets below. Power, money, influence, they were all his. Yet, for the first time in years, there was a variable he could not control. A human variable.
Aria Kingsley.
He didn't know her. He didn't need to. He would learn to manipulate her like all else. Or he would leave her irrelevant.
But something in him hesitated. He didn't like hesitation. He didn't indulge it. And yet.
Dominic turned sharply, pacing the length of the office. He imagined her, tall, delicate, fiery eyes, the kind of beauty that could be dangerous if underestimated. Someone's daughter, someone's heir soon to be his wife.
He wondered, how much would she resist? How much would she fight?
The idea made him smirk. He liked a challenge. He thrived on one.
"Blackwood," his assistant's voice interrupted from the doorway, cautious. "Dinner with the board is in an hour. And your fiance's family expects you tomorrow at the Kingsley estate."
Dominic froze mid step. The words fiance's family landed like a hammer.
He turned slowly to the assistant. "Are you certain she is aware of the arrangement?"
"She is aware," the assistant said, hesitating. "She sounded upset."
"Good," Dominic said, and there was no warmth in his tone. "Fear is more effective than gratitude. Never forget that."
He returned to the window, the rain streaking his reflection like tears he would never shed.
Dominic Blackwood was a man of rules, a man of power, a man who bent the world to his will. Yet for the first time in years, a human being, his future bride, was a wild card he could not predict.
And Dominic never lost.
He just adapted.
And he would win.