Chapter 2

The address was for a private suite at the top of the Nomad Hotel. The text had been simple: "If you want the whole truth, be here. Alone. - A.R."

A.R. Atticus Rios. The reckless playboy heir to the Rios Energy oil dynasty. Our biggest, most hated rival. What the hell did he want with me?

I walked into the suite. It smelled of expensive scotch and Atticus Rios himself, who was lounging on a leather sofa, a glass in his hand. He was exactly like the tabloids painted him: sinfully handsome, with dark, messy hair and eyes that promised trouble.

"Dr. Sloan," he said, his voice a low drawl. "An honor." He didn't get up.

"I don't have time for games, Rios. What is this?" I tried to keep my voice steady, professional.

He smirked, taking a slow sip of his drink. "You're a class act, I'll give you that. Your husband is screwing a D-list celebrity on your dime, and you're still playing the part of the unshakable ice queen."

"It was a mistake," I said, the lie feeling flimsy even to my own ears. "We're dealing with it."

"A mistake?" He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. He gestured to his security guards. "Give us the room."

The two large men nodded and left, closing the heavy doors behind them with a soft click. Now we were alone.

"You think a single affair is the problem?" Atticus said, leaning forward. He tapped his phone, and the large television on the wall flickered to life.

It was a video, but this one was crystal clear. It was from a security camera in what looked like a hotel room. Harden and Celine. They weren't just kissing. They were tangled together in the sheets of a bed.

My stomach churned.

"I love you," Harden's voice said from the TV's speakers. It was a clear, unmistakable declaration. "You're everything she's not. Alive. Fun."

The words hit me harder than the visual. He loved her.

"She's so cold, Celine," Harden continued, his voice full of contempt for me. "All she cares about is the work. It's like being married to a robot. A brilliant, rich robot, but still. I'm only with her for the company. Once I have full control, she's out."

The air left my lungs in a rush. I stumbled back, grabbing the arm of a chair to steady myself. The ice queen facade shattered into a million pieces.

"No," I whispered, the sound barely audible.

"Yes," Atticus said softly. "He's been playing you for years."

My voice came back, raw with fury. "Why? Why are you showing me this? What do you want?" I was a businesswoman. I understood transactions. This was a move.

"Everyone has a price, Dr. Sloan," I said, my voice turning hard. "What's yours?"

"I want Helios," he said simply. "Or rather, I want to partner with it. Your tech, my resources. We could bury the fossil fuel industry. Starting with my family's."

"You want to destroy your own father?"

"My stepmother," he corrected. "Chantal runs the show. And yes. I want to burn her empire to the ground. But to do that, I need to get Harden out of my way. He's been making backroom deals with her."

"A takeover," I breathed. "You're proposing a hostile takeover."

"I'm proposing an alliance," he said. "You and me. We vote him out. We restructure. We win."

I shook my head. "No. The company is stable. Our stock is soaring. I won't risk it." I was thinking of the baby. Our baby. I needed stability, not a corporate war.

Atticus seemed to read my mind. "You think you have a choice?" He swiped to another image on the screen. It was a detailed financial statement.

"This is a shell corporation registered in the Cayman Islands," he explained, his voice calm and lethal. "Harden has been siphoning money from Helios into this account for the last eighteen months. He's moved over twenty million dollars."

The number was staggering. It was theft on a grand scale.

"He's been spending it," Atticus continued, swiping again. Receipts. A new Porsche for Celine. A condo in Miami. A diamond necklace that cost more than my first car.

The scratch on his neck. The lies. The stolen money. It all clicked into place. This wasn't a mistake. This was a long, calculated betrayal. He was looting our company, our dream, to fund a life with another woman. He was planning to leave me with nothing.

The last bit of hope inside me died.