CHAPTER 1
Fiore Amelie Sinclair never thought curiosity would be her downfall.
In their five years together, she never doubted her fiancé. She trusted Alexander. She always had. But when his driver casually mentioned he’d dropped him off at a bar for his bachelor’s party, a gnawing unease took root in her chest.
She had to see him.
Just one look. That’s all. Just to ease my mind.
What she didn’t expect was to walk into the VIP room and feel her world shatter.
The music was loud, the bass pounding against her chest, but nothing drowned out the sight before her. Alexander Blaine, her beloved fiancé, the man she was supposed to marry in one week, sat sprawled in a leather chair with a woman straddling his lap. Their mouths locked in a feverish kiss, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer, like he couldn’t get enough. Around them, their friends whooped and hollered, glasses clinking, music pounding too loud to notice her frozen figure in the doorway.
Fiore’s breath caught somewhere between disbelief and nausea. Her chest burned. Her throat tightened so painfully she thought she might choke. The world tilted, narrowed, until all she could see was him and her—his betrayal playing out like a cruel spectacle.
No. This can’t be real. This isn’t happening. He loves me. He loves—
But the wet, hungry sound of their kisses and the sight of Alexander’s smirk as the woman’s mouth wandered down his neck sliced through her denial.
Her fingers trembled, but her feet refused to move. She stood there, helpless, forced to witness her fiancé surrender to another woman’s lips, a low moan spilling from his throat.
And then his eyes fluttered open.
For a heartbeat they were glazed, drunk on the moment—until they landed on her. They widened in shock. His smug smirk died instantly, color draining from his face, replaced with panic. He shoved the woman off his lap so abruptly she nearly fell to the floor.
“Fiore—” His voice cracked as he scrambled to his feet. “Fiore, wait—this isn’t what it looks like—”
Her chest tightened painfully, but she schooled her face into something cold. Controlled. The kind of composure expected of the city’s darling, not a broken fiancée.
She didn’t scream. Didn’t cry. Didn’t make a scene. Instead, Fiore slipped the engagement ring from her finger, the diamond catching the club lights one last time before she placed it on the nearest table.
Her voice never came. Her heart had shattered too completely for words.
Alexander took a step toward her, desperation lacing his voice. “Fiore, please—”
But she didn’t spare him a glance. With her chin high, spine rigid, she turned on her heel and walked out.
It wasn’t until she was in the hallway, the door slamming shut behind her, that her composure cracked. Hot tears blurred her vision as she pressed a trembling hand to her chest, swallowing back a sob.
Humiliation burned through her veins. Betrayal cut deeper than any knife.
How could he do this to me?
For five years she had stood by his side, poured every ounce of love and loyalty into him. She had trusted and believed in him more than anyone else. And this… this is what she get?
Her throat tightened. She felt like the biggest fool alive. How had she not seen it? Behind that sweet smile and gentle touches had lurked something rotten, a deceit she never imagined he was capable of. He had played her, and she had fallen for it like an utter fool.
Fiore swiped at her tears with the back of her hand, furious at herself for shedding them at all. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she forced herself forward, step after step, until she reached the bar counter.
She didn’t care what it was. She just needed something—anything—to dull the ache tearing her apart.
“One shot of your strongest,” she told the bartender, her voice steady even as her heart trembled.
The glass arrived, its amber liquid catching the dim light like fire trapped in crystal. Fiore wrapped her fingers around it, lifted it to her lips, and downed it in one gulp. The burn seared down her throat, sharp and merciless, but she didn’t so much as flinch. If anything, the heat steadied her, cutting through the haze of betrayal with brutal clarity.
There would be no wedding. Not now. Not ever. And Alexander Blaine would regret the day he broke her heart. She’d make sure to return this betrayal twice over.
She set the empty glass down with a sharp clink, dropped a few bills on the counter, and headed for the exit.
But the universe wasn’t done with her yet.
The moment she pushed open the door, the heavens split open, rain hammering down in relentless sheets. Within seconds, her silk dress clung to her skin, soaked through.
“Perfect,” she muttered bitterly, pushing her wet hair back from her face. Her car was parked blocks away, but at this point, what did it matter? She was already drenched. One more misery made no difference.
She lowered her head, bracing against the downpour, and pushed forward.
She was halfway across the sidewalk when a shadow loomed in front of her, and suddenly, the rain wasn’t hitting her anymore.
Fiore blinked and looked up, startled to find an umbrella tilted over her, shielding her from the downpour.
And holding it, as if he had stepped straight out of the night itself, was none other than Cadmus Vaughn Miller.
Her breath hitched.
Everyone in the city knew who he was—the ruthless CEO of Miller Empire, Alexander’s greatest rival, the man painted by tabloids as cold, merciless, untouchable. His gray eyes were as piercing as the storm above them, and when they locked on her, something twisted low in her stomach.
“Quite the sight,” Cadmus said in a voice smooth as steel, his gaze lingered on her face, then down her rain-soaked dress, before returning to her eyes. “Why’s the city’s darling wandering the streets, soaking wet, at this hour?”
Fiore’s lips parted, then pressed into a firm line. “Mind your own business, Mr. Miller.”
“I should,” he agreed, voice low and steady. “But something tells me my conscience won’t let me sleep tonight if I leave you here like this. Especially in the state you’re in.”
Fiore barked a humorless laugh. “Conscience? That’s rich. When did the infamous ruthless CEO of Miller Empire grow a heart? I thought yours was pitch black.”
His gaze didn’t waver. But the corner of his mouth lifted just slightly. “I do have a conscience, Miss Sinclair. But only with certain people.”
Her brows knit together. “And what? Am I supposed to believe I’m one of those?”
Cadmus leaned closer, his umbrella tilting to shield her fully. “Let’s just say… tonight, you are. I’m feeling quite generous.”
Fiore rolled her eyes, exhaustion and confusion weighing on her. She didn’t have the energy for this game, not tonight. Not after Alexander. All she wanted was the safety of her bed and maybe the numbness of sleep.
Besides, she barely knew him. Their interactions had been limited to nothing more than pleasantries at galas. She only knew Cadmus Vaughn Miller by reputation alone—a man who never did anything without purpose. And he’s Alexander’s sworn enemy. Why he was even talking to her now, she couldn’t fathom.
Just then, a sharp gust of wind whipped across the street, and a shiver ran down her spine. Damn. She was freezing. She’d catch pneumonia at this rate.
Cadmus’s sharp gray eyes immediately caught sight of her trembling figure. His voice dropped, firm and decisive. “Why don’t you come with me?”
Fiore blinked, staring at him. “Excuse me?”
“You’re in no state to drive. I can smell the alcohol on you—”
“No, thanks,” she cut him off, lifting her chin. “I only had one glass. I can handle myself.”
“No.” His tone was final, unyielding. “I’m not leaving you here alone.” His gaze pinned her, unwavering. “You’re clearly unstable. You might even do something… reckless.”
Her breath caught. His words stung, not because they were harsh, but because deep down, she knew he wasn’t entirely wrong.
For a long moment, Fiore hesitated. Pride told her to walk away. But her trembling body, the storm drenching her to the bone, and the fresh wound in her chest whispered otherwise.
Finally, she sighed, her voice breaking as she whispered, “…Fine.”
Cadmus tilted the umbrella slightly, his expression unreadable. But for the briefest moment, she thought she saw satisfaction flicker in those storm-gray eyes.
