Chapter 1 Prologue: The Depreciating Asset

The rain in Mayfair didn't wash anything clean. It just made the dirt slick.

I stood on the pavement outside the townhouse that had been my sanctuary for ten years, watching the removal men haul out my life. Beside me, Lyle didn't even have the decency to look guilty. He casually adjusted his gold cufflinks – the ones I had bought him for our anniversary.

"It's just business, Lolly," he'd said an hour ago, dropping the divorce papers onto the marble kitchen island. "You were a beautiful asset. But assets fucking depreciate."

Now, I was a 'no one'. No money, no keys, and my reputation dragged through the shite of his public fraud. I stared up at the glowing window of the master bedroom. Krista – the woman I used to call my best friend – was up there right now, drinking my vintage Bollinger.

"You're trembling," a voice rasped from the shadows.

I turned. A man leaned against the frame of a waiting black saloon car. He didn't look like a bloody saviour. He looked like the devil, and right now, the devil was exactly what I needed.

"I'm not cold," I snapped, my jaw tight. "I'm shedding."

He laughed – a dark, low sound that vibrated in my chest. He stepped into the glow of the streetlamp, and my breath hitched. He was dressed in a dark, tactical suit, but it was his eyes that pinned me in place. They swept over me, stripping away the polite veneer of the society wife and seeing straight through to the feral, starving woman underneath.

He didn't politely keep his distance. He stepped right into my space, backing me slightly against the wrought iron fence of my old home. He was so close I could smell expensive tobacco, rain, and a raw, heavy musk that made my pulse hammer in my throat.

"I'm Franco," he murmured, his gaze dropping to my mouth. "And I think Lyle just made the biggest mistake of his pathetic life. He thinks he broke you. I think he just let you off the leash."

The heat radiating off his body was a physical weight. I had just lost my husband, but standing this close to Franco, the only thing I felt was a sudden, violent ache between my thighs.

He held out a heavy, matte black invitation. "The Apex Bloom. It's a survival game for the elite. The prize is a billion pounds. But it doesn't reward beauty, Lolita. It rewards the hunger of a woman who has nothing left to lose."

I looked at the card, then back up into his dark, hungry eyes. I reached out to take it. As I did, I intentionally let my fingers brush against his calloused palm.

A sharp, electric shock shot through me, and I let out a soft gasp. Franco's eyes dilated instantly. He stepped half an inch closer, his thigh brushing against mine. He knew exactly what that touch did to me. He wanted it just as much as I did.

"Rule one," Franco whispered, leaning down until his lips almost brushed the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my wet skin. "In my arena, the only way to bloom is to bleed. Are you ready to get your hands filthy?"

I looked back at the house, feeling the last shattered illusion of my past grind into dust under my heel. I didn't want to wallow. I wanted to burn it all to the ground.

I slipped the invitation into my coat pocket and looked back up at the man who was offering me a kingdom.

"Tell me where we're going," I said.