Chapter 1 The Wedding Dress on Fire

The silk of my wedding dress melted like sugar in the parking lot bonfire, the pearls popping like gunshots. I hoped Daniel heard them from the chapel where he'd just married my best friend.

I stood barefoot on asphalt, heels discarded and forgotten. The lace hem of the dress curled into ash, blackened smoke tangling with my veil like a ghost that refused to let go. My mascara ran freely-black rivers of rage and ruin-mixing with the champagne I swigged straight from the bottle someone had dropped outside the reception tent.

Security yelled something. Maybe it was about fire codes. Maybe about trespassing. I couldn't hear them over the thunder in my chest.

"Miss, you can't-"

I held up a finger, then another, then flipped them off entirely.

"Watch me."

They didn't get closer. No one ever does when a woman is unhinged in white.

And then-

A shadow cut through the smoke.

Tall. Precise. Unbothered. Like the fire couldn't touch him.

He wore a charcoal suit that cost more than my canceled wedding did, sleeves rolled casually to the elbows. His tie was undone, shirt open at the throat, as if this chaos were just another boardroom meeting he could dominate with a glance.

Damien Blackwood.

The older, exiled brother. The one with the reputation.

A cigarette dangled from his lips. He didn't light it. Just watched the flames consume the last threads of my dignity with a gaze sharp enough to gut me.

"If you're done with theatrics," he said smoothly, "I have a business proposal."

I turned to him slowly, mascara streaked and bottle still clutched like a weapon. "I'm not interested in selling my sanity. I'm wearing it."

He looked down at the flaming dress, then at the smudged mess I'd become.

"And yet, here you are. Free. Unattached. Very...public."

"Is this where you call me pathetic?"

"No," he said, tossing the unlit cigarette into the fire. "This is where I offer to help you destroy my brother."

The world slowed.

Damien walked forward until we stood on opposite sides of the flames. His face flickered gold in the firelight, shadowed by something dangerous.

"I don't want your pity," I hissed.

He arched an eyebrow. "Good. I don't give it. I want the Blackwood name back, and Daniel took that from me. He took your startup, too, didn't he?"

My throat locked.

He knew.

"The patent for CarterCloud was registered under Daniel's name two days before your wedding," he continued. "I could let that slide. Or I could help you take it back."

I stared, heart pounding, head reeling.

"Why me?" I asked.

"Because you're angry enough to burn down your wedding dress. And I like women who don't flinch at fire."

He stepped forward and peeled off his suit jacket, slow and deliberate. Then, with a flick, he tossed it into the flames beside my ruined gown.

"I want you to pretend to love me," he said. "In front of Daniel. In front of the world. Make him bleed from the inside out. And in return, I'll bankroll your revenge."

I laughed, raw and wild.

"You want me to what-flirt my way through your boardrooms and gala dinners?"

"I want you to look Daniel in the eye while you sit on my lap and call me 'darling.' I want you to be the woman he lost-and can never touch again."

He extended his hand.

It smelled like cedar and smoke and something darker.

I didn't take it. Not yet.

Instead, I looked at the fire one last time.

Then I spat into it. "I'll screw you over too, Blackwood."

His smile sharpened.

"I'm counting on it."