Carter’s POV
It’s been one f*****g minute.
One f*****g minute since she walked out of the office, and I couldn’t do a damn thing.
The blue-eyed elevator lady.
That’s how I’ve addressed her in my head for the past month.
I’ve tried to forget her.
But now, fate’s brought her right back into my hands.
I drag a hand through my hair, leaning back in my chair. The memory of her still burns behind my eyes. I was supposed to go back and look for her, actually. That breathless kiss in the elevator was unfinished business.
I still remember the sound of the elevator doors sliding shut like the world locking us in.
And when she turned, those blue eyes, wild, lost, met mine.
I saw Vivian in them. My very first love.
I don't hesitate, I pin her gently against the mirrored wall, my hands on either side of her head. She didn’t push me away. Instead, her breath caught, lips parting just slightly, and that was enough.
Her mouth tasted like martini and sin. Her fingers clawed at my shirt like she was drowning and I was air. Every sound she made, every tremor that rolled through her body, it drove me insane.
And when she touched my c**k, Christ. I'm ready to rip her apart.
Her moan. Her heat. Her eyes.
It isn't a moment that'll go unfinished.
I don’t do unfinished.
The way her eyes flickers like she was searching for a way out, all of it reminded me of her.
My forbidden love. My dearest Vivian.
I planned on asking her name when we made it to my bed, when I’d rip that sapphire-blue dress off her body and lay the perfect kisses down her skin.
But that couldn’t happen.
My f*****g wife had to text me right at that moment, setting everything off.
I exhale sharply, my hand tightening around my phone. I regretted my marriage that instant because it never was out of love but contract.
Amy Stone. My contracted wife of two years. She had to ruin the moment and make it about her with that text.
An Oscar and Emmy-winning actress. She plays the role of my wife too damn well. Our contract ends next month, and suddenly she’s decided she wants to play Mrs. Ford again, pretending we’re still the golden couple.
I scoff under my breath. She’s been way too clingy these days, way too attached. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Amy, it’s that she never does anything without motive.
My fingers hover over the phone screen. I blink, then type the name:
SKYLAR JOHNSON.
I send it to my P.I., instructing him to run a background check and get back to me.
The universe brought her to me. Do I lose her again?
I lean back in my chair and exhale slowly.
A lot has been on my mind.
Yes, Skylar takes half the space in my head but the other half…
The Ford Empire, which doesn’t run itself.
Managing the corporation alone is a full-time war, but now I’m preparing to take over as CEO. My father’s stepping down, diving fully into politics.
The rumors are true, he’s running for the presidency. That alone has multiplied our enemies and shrunk our allies.
Then there’s the darker business, the one my father built and led long before I took over.
The one that unites and shatters our family.
The one my mother decided to wash her hands of, pretending she didn’t know what kind of blood paid for her diamonds. My sister still lives in blissful ignorance, running her charities, thinking we’re the good guys.
But there’s nothing good about The Seven.
America’s deadliest mafia network. A covert alliance of billionaires and bloodlines that rule everything beneath the polished surface of politics and power. Businessmen. Generals. Media tycoons. All puppeteers of chaos wearing clean suits and expensive smiles.
We control what the world sees, and my father controls the men who make sure it stays that way.
Now, he’s passing it all to me.
The company. The influence. The blood oath.
There’s no time for distractions.
I rub a hand over my jaw, staring at the city through the glass. From up here, it looks peaceful. The streets below, the people, they have no idea how much of their world belongs to us.
But peace is an illusion.
Because every empire needs an enemy.
And ours has one.
One I might have inherited.
Rafael Salvador. The Italian Mafia Boss.
The name alone tightens my chest.
The kind of man who burns cities just to prove he can. He's been sending subtle warnings that he's ready to claim territory. We've had three of our men vanish in New Jersey ports. I know it's him.
And if he's coming for the seven, he's coming for me.
My phone pings, snapping me back to reality. I sit forward instantly.
A text from my P.I. regarding Skylar Johnson.
Less than five minutes. I already have her file.
Her relationship status. Her senator stepfather. Her ex-fiancé. Where she works. Who recommended her. The hotel she’s staying at.
Two days in New York.
Two days here and then she’s gone.
“f**k,” I mutter under my breath. My fingers tap against the desk, restless. My foot bounces uncontrollably under the table.
How do I go about this now? Who do I call?
Shit.
I’ve never felt this uneasy since Vivian. Never.
Maybe Skylar is Vivian’s reincarnate because she’s haunting me.
Do I really want to bring her fully into my world?
Because I can.
Right before she gets on that plane and disappears from my reach.
I know who I am and I know how dangerous I get when I want something.
Despite being a rational man, I can’t deny what’s right in front of me. The universe brought her back without me lifting a finger.
Lucky me.
And now, I want her.
All of her.