Alina stood at the top floor of her new tower—Delore Asia.
Her dress was still damp from the rain. Her thighs still trembling from Nicholas. Her victory still pulsing beneath her skin like liquid gold.
But tonight wasn’t for celebration.
It was for conquest.
And Nicholas would bleed first.
She poured herself a glass of champagne and looked out over the skyline.
Behind her, the office door opened.
“Ms. Hartley?” her assistant whispered. “There’s someone—”
But she didn’t have to finish.
The scent of him filled the room before he stepped in.
Nicholas.
No suit.
No tie.
Just rage and a black button-down, sleeves rolled, hair wild.
She didn’t turn.
“I figured you’d show.”
He stalked toward her slowly. “You made a mistake.”
“Which one? f*****g you in your own club, or buying out
