Chapter 2

I spent the entire night in that bar, the cold sting of alcohol doing nothing to numb the fire of betrayal. Damien's words echoed in my head. Honoring the deal. He saw me as a transaction, a bill to be paid.

I would not be his charity case.

With my name and my fortune, I could have any man I wanted. I didn't need to beg for scraps of affection from someone who despised me.

I stood before my father again, my resolve hardened. "I'm serious, Dad. I'm marrying Hunter. I trust him. He's the only one who has ever been honest with me."

"But the boys..."

"The 'boys' are loyal to you because you hold their futures in your hands," I said, my voice sharp. "Their deference to me is just an act." I hid the flicker of pain in my eyes. The years I'd wasted, the love I'd poured out-it all felt like a joke.

I straightened my shoulders. "I have some requests."

"Anything, sweetheart."

"Freeze their corporate accounts and personal credit lines. All four of them. And fire the intern, Luna McClain, for failing to meet hiring standards. Terminate all foundation support for her, effective immediately."

My father looked shocked but nodded slowly. "If that's what you want, it's done. I trust your judgment."

A weight lifted from my chest. I walked out of the study, my head held high.

I met Luna on the grand marble staircase in the middle of the corporate headquarters. Dressed in a delicate white dress, she was the very picture of innocence. She rushed over, trying to link her arm with mine.

"Elena! I was just coming to find you! I heard there's a charity gala tonight. Will you take me? Please?"

I looked at her, at the sweet smile she wore, and felt sick to my stomach. This was the face of the girl who had stolen my love and laughed at my pain.

I pulled my arm from her grasp with a look of disgust.

Her eyes widened in surprise. Then, in a move of pure theatrical genius, she let out a small cry and tumbled dramatically down the last few steps of the staircase.

"Luna!" A frantic shout came from the bottom of the stairs. It was Damien. Kennith and Leo were right behind him.

I looked down and saw them all, standing there, looking up at me.

Kennith Boyle pointed a finger at me, his face red with rage. "Elena, you vicious bitch! How could you push her? Your jealousy has made you insane!"

Luna, meanwhile, was already on her feet, rushing to my defense with tears in her eyes. "No, no, it wasn't Elena! I just slipped. She would never hurt me." Her words only made me look guiltier.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, her lip trembling. She was the perfect victim.

The men all glared at me with pure disgust.

Damien didn't say a word. He just gave me one cold, dismissive look before scooping Luna into his arms and carrying her away as if she were made of glass.

I was left standing there, alone on the staircase, the target of a dozen pointing fingers and hushed whispers.

Later that evening, at the company's grand anniversary gala, I was a vision in a custom gown, the picture of composure. But she was there, of course. Luna, who should have been fired, was standing by Damien's side as his personal "assistant."

She drifted over to me, her voice soft and sweet. "Elena, I'm so sorry about this morning. And please, don't worry about me and Damien. I know my place. I would never get in the way of your happiness."

Damien hovered by her side, his eyes never leaving her, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. He adjusted the shawl around her shoulders when she shivered, personally fetched her a glass of champagne. When she complained that her high heels were pinching, he knelt right there on the polished floor, in front of hundreds of guests, to gently examine her ankle.

He knelt for her.

I froze.

My mind flashed back to my thirteenth birthday. The centerpiece of the party was a grand piano, and I had wanted to hear Damien play. He was already a prodigy, his music as brilliant and intense as he was.

My father had taught him that a man should only kneel for his wife.

But that day, my father had looked at a reluctant sixteen-year-old Damien and said, "Play for her. She is your future, Damien. She is everything."

Damien had played, his face a mask of silent humiliation. A performance for his future bride, a transaction for his future empire.