The VIP lounge of the Grand Meridian smells like money and panic.
I close the door behind me.
Soft click.
The music from the engagement ballroom fades into a distant hum. Now there are only four of us in the room—and the storm outside trying to break the glass walls.
Lightning explodes across the sky.
For a moment the entire city lights up beneath the mountains. Wet streets shine like silver veins.
Then darkness again.
Lucas Hale stands three steps away from me.
Three years ago this man promised me a future.
Now he's wearing a white waiter's uniform, sleeves rolled up, bow tie crooked like he dressed too fast.
His face looks worse.
Pale.
Sweating.
Eyes darting between me and the door like a trapped animal.
Elena stands beside him in a tight white top, clutching his arm so hard her fingers are digging into his sleeve.
My stepsister's lipstick is perfect.
Her confidence isn't.
Neither of them expected me tonight.
I walk further into the lounge.
My boots make quiet sounds on the marble floor.
My hair flows down my back, the black fabric of my coat framing my shoulders. I removed it before entering the ballroom. Now only a fitted black top remains beneath it.
Lucas stares at me like he's seeing a ghost.
"Aria…"
His voice cracks.
Interesting.
Elena recovers first.
Her eyes narrow.
"You have nerve showing up here," she says.
I stop in the center of the room.
My posture straight. My face calm.
Poker face.
Years of practice.
Inside my body, everything is running perfectly.
Pulse: sixty-two beats per minute.
Breathing: controlled.
Hydration level: balanced.
sympathetic nervous system overload"
Sixteen hours on a plane should have left me exhausted.
Instead I feel sharper than ever.
Meanwhile Lucas and Elena look like textbook examples of sympathetic nervous system overload.
Lucas's breathing is shallow.
His pupils are dilated.
Adrenaline flooding.
Elena keeps shifting her weight, jaw tight.
Cortisol spike.
Fear chemistry.
My voice breaks the silence.
"Nice party."
Lucas swallows.
"You weren't invited."
"Neither was betrayal," I say calmly.
Lightning strikes outside again.
The windows flash white.
Rain slams harder against the glass.
Lucas runs a hand through his hair.
"Aria… listen. Whatever you think—"
"I don't think," I interrupt.
"I remember."
The room goes still.
Elena scoffs.
"Oh please. You disappeared for three years. Everyone knows why."
I tilt my head slightly.
"Remind me."
Her smile sharpens.
"Because you couldn't handle losing."
Lucas flinches beside her.
Good.
Even he knows that's a lie.
I take one step closer.
Then another.
Lucas instinctively steps back.
His heart rate must be above one hundred twenty now.
Stress sweat visible at his collar.
"Elena," I say quietly.
"Yes?"
"You're wearing white tonight."
She smirks.
"It's an engagement party."
"I know."
I glance down at the diamond ring on her finger.
"That used to belong to me."
Her smile tightens.
Lucas suddenly raises his hands.
"Okay—enough."
His voice tries to sound firm.
Fails.
"Aria, this isn't the place."
"No?"
I glance around the luxurious lounge.
Leather chairs.
Crystal glasses.
A massive window showing the storm tearing across the mountains.
"Seems perfect to me."
Elena crosses her arms.
"You lost, Aria."
Her tone turns cold.
"You lost the company. The investors. Lucas."
Lightning flashes again.
My reflection appears faintly in the window behind them.
Long hair.
Dark eyes.
A woman they don't understand anymore.
I lean slightly closer.
"Did I?"
Lucas's jaw tightens.
"Look," he says, lowering his voice.
"Whatever happened… we can settle this privately. There's no need to cause a scene."
I smile faintly.
"Lucas."
"Yes?"
"You stole my research."
He freezes.
"You forged my signature."
His eyes flick to Elena.
"You leaked fake reports that destroyed my reputation."
The silence thickens.
Elena finally snaps.
"Prove it."
I let the words hang.
Then I say softly—
"I don't need to."
Thunder cracks so loud the glass vibrates.
Lucas looks like he might actually faint.
His sympathetic system is collapsing under pressure.
Short breaths.
Rigid shoulders.
Fight-or-flight failing.
Meanwhile my body stays steady.
Balanced nutrition. Controlled training. Discipline.
Even rage burns cleaner when the body is prepared.
But Lucas isn't the only person in this room.
And I know it.
I felt his presence the moment I entered.
Near the massive glass window, a man sits quietly in a leather chair.
Navy blue three-piece suit.
Broad shoulders.
Powerful frame.
The kind of man who lifts iron before breakfast and signs billion-dollar deals before lunch.
His posture is relaxed.
One arm resting on the chair.
The other hand placed firmly on top of a thick stack of documents.
A contract.
Large.
Detailed.
Heavy paper.
He hasn't spoken yet.
But he's been watching everything.
Lucas finally notices him.
His eyes widen.
"Oh—sir—I didn't realize you were—"
The man raises one finger.
Lucas shuts up instantly.
Interesting.
The man slowly stands.
When he moves, the entire room feels smaller.
He walks toward the center table.
Each step measured.
Outside, lightning flashes again.
For a moment his face becomes clear.
Sharp jaw.
Calm eyes.
A presence that makes people instinctively lower their voices.
He stops beside the table.
His hand presses lightly on the contract.
Then he looks directly at me.
Not at Lucas.
Not at Elena.
Me.
"You're Aria Vale."
Not a question.
I hold his gaze.
"Yes."
Lucas suddenly stammers.
"Sir—this situation—she's just—"
The man doesn't even look at him.
Lucas shuts up again.
Power like that doesn't need effort.
The man studies me for several seconds.
Then his eyes move briefly to Lucas and Elena.
Disgust flickers across his face.
"Pathetic," he mutters.
Elena bristles.
"Excuse me?"
He ignores her.
Instead he pushes the contract slightly forward across the table.
The thick paper slides toward me.
I glance down.
Legal text.
Pages of clauses.
Corporate language.
Marriage terms.
My eyes narrow.
The storm outside grows louder.
Rain slams the windows.
Lightning lights up the city below.
"What is this?" I ask.
The man answers calmly.
"A solution."
Lucas looks confused.
Elena looks suspicious.
I flip the first page.
Then the second.
Then the third.
My pulse stays steady.
Sixty-two.
Controlled.
But my mind sharpens.
Because this is no ordinary contract.
It's a marriage agreement.
Twelve months.
Public union.
Financial protection.
Strategic partnership clauses.
Power transfers.
Media control.
My eyes stop on one line highlighted in bold.
Rule #7: No Falling in Love.
I look up slowly.
The man in the navy suit watches me carefully.
Outside, thunder rolls across the mountains again.
"What kind of game is this?" I ask.
His expression doesn't change.
"It's not a game."
Lucas suddenly blurts—
"Sir, you can't be serious—"
The man finally turns his head slightly toward him.
Lucas goes silent immediately.
Then the man pushes the contract the rest of the way toward me.
The paper stops directly in front of my hands.
The room feels electric.
The storm roars outside.
Lightning flashes across the glass.
He looks straight into my eyes and says calmly—
"Marry me for one year."