Chapter 5 Michael, Stunned And Intrigued.

Michael's POV

I stared at the closed door long after she walked out.

Riley Jordan.

A name I had learned before the night even ended, yet somehow, I had not expected her to leave me like that, without hesitation, or even a second thoughts.

I'd had women walk in on me, cry for me, strip for me.

But never walk out on me, not after a night like that.

A sour grin pulled at my lips as I looked down at the torn check fragments on the ground. She really did it, tore it like it meant nothing, like I meant nothing.

People know better than to walk away from me.

I walked over to the window, pulled the curtain aside, and watched her disappear into the crowd below. Head high, back straight, like a damn storm in heels, exuding strength and rage.

So effortlessly seductive

What intrigues me wasn't just the sex.

It was her fire, the way she refused to bend, even in her most vulnerable state, she had claws.

I wanted to know what made her burn like that.

******

Two hours later, I sat in my office, flipping through a file my investigator had just handed over.

Riley Jordan.

Age: 25.

Former marketing assistant at West Enterprises.

Resigned two days ago.

Reason: Unstated.

Unofficial report: Walked in on her boyfriend, Eric Marshall, making out with her boss, Celeste West.

I blinked and sat back in my chair. A low whistle escaped my lips

So that was what broke her, Interesting.

The investigator continued rambling details, but my mind had already jumped ahead. She was heartbroken, unemployed and vulnerable.

Likely sitting in that shoebox apartment of hers, trying to figure out her next move.

I have finally found the perfect piece on my chessboard, and she doesn't even know she is in the game.

I didn't believe in fate, but this? This was a perfect storm.

I glanced at the image clipped to the file. She looked different here, no fire, just a quiet kind of strength behind tired eyes. A woman desperately trying not to fall apart.

I picked up my phone, dialed my real estate team.

"Find out who owns the apartment complex at Northbridge Avenue, top floor unit. Send an offer, high enough to make it easy."

"Right away, sir."

I hung up.

If Riley wanted to walk away, fine.

But the world is full of locked doors and I own the keys.

******

Three Days Later...

Riley Jordan would receive a quiet, politely worded notice of new ownership. She would be informed of the "upcoming renovations" and asked to "vacate the unit within a week." I smirked.

It was cruel, calculated, and exactly what she needed.

Because next time I offered her a contract...She wouldn't be tearing up my check.

She would be asking for one, and this time, I wouldn't be giving her a blank.

I would be writing the terms myself.

****IN THE EVENING*****

I leaned back in my leather chair, swirling the amber liquid in my glass as the city lights blinked beneath my penthouse window. Her name, Riley Jordan continued echoing in my head like a stubborn thought refusing to be buried.

A woman who dared to walk away from me.

Who tore up my check like it was worthless.

Who had no idea what she stirred in me the moment she looked into my eyes and didn't flinch.

I picked up my phone and dialed.

"Damon, I need a contract. One year." My voice was cold, clipped.

"Personal or corporate, sir?" Damon asked.

He is my trusted lawyer, and never missed a beat.

"Personal, Extremely personal."

There was a brief pause. "Define the terms."

I stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, my grip tightening. "She will live in my building, fully furnished apartment, top security, all expenses covered."

"Got it."

"She works for Gray Enterprises. Find a position that fits her résumé, something close to me but not too obvious."

"Understood."

"She will accompany me to every social function, gala, and business event. She will act like my girlfriend, without any questions, or defiance."

Damon cleared his throat. "Do you want a behavioral clause?"

I smirked widely. "Naturally, romantic ties stay exclusive, overnight guests aren't allowed, and everything stays discreet."

"And compensation?"

"A generous monthly allowance, shopping account, a driver at her disposal.

She gets anything she needs with one exception."

"And what's that?"

"She doesn't get to walk away."

I poured another drink, the ice crackling like my thoughts.

"Add a penalty clause," I said coolly. "If she breaks the contract early, she pays back everything, every single cent."

Damon was silent for a moment. "Michael... this sounds more like ownership than a contract."

I smiled without humor. "Then write it that way, make it airtight. If I am playing this game, I play to win."

He sighed. "I will have the draft ready by morning."

I hung up the phone and stared into the glass in my hand, watching the liquid glow gold in the light.

She might have walked out that morning, but Riley Jordan had no idea, I had already made my move.

And in this game?

I never lose.