PROLOGUE
PROLOGUE
16.06.2008 – Monte Falco Resort, Cuba | Sunny Day
The sun hung high over the turquoise waters of Monte Falco Island, casting shimmering ripples across the ocean’s surface. A warm breeze danced through the palm trees, teasing the hem of Isla Rayne’s uniform as she balanced a tray of cocktails on her hip.
She was twenty—fresh-faced, light-skinned, with a dusting of freckles across her nose and shoulder-length blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her figure was soft and untouched by the world, average in every way, yet there was a quiet charm about her—something almost childlike in the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed.
“Another round of mojitos for Table Nine,” called her coworker Lani, tossing a wink. “Big tippers. You might want to smile extra wide this time.”
Isla laughed lightly, adjusting her tray. “Right. Because my awkward grin really screams 'high-class hospitality.'”
“You never know, Isa. A billionaire might fall for your awkward grin someday,” Lani teased, elbowing her gently.
Isla rolled her eyes as they walked across the cabana-lined deck. Monte Falco wasn’t just any island—it was the private playground of the elite. The resort hosted tycoons, tech kings, and powerful CEOs, all of whom came to unwind in complete seclusion, with women who looked like they’d stepped off magazine covers.
Girls like Isla? They served drinks.
The latest buzz around the resort was about him—Dante Creed. The CEO of Creed Odyssey. A man whose name made markets shift and headlines scream. Rumors swirled that he was arriving today—with his close-knit circle of billionaire partners for their yearly retreat.
Isla had never seen him in person. Just whispers of tall, dark, and dangerous. Black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a face carved by the gods. They said he could walk into a room and command it with a look.
And now, he was coming here.
She didn’t care, or at least pretended not to. Isla had learned to blend in—be invisible. But inside, there was still a flicker of foolish curiosity… the kind that daydreamed about fairytales and fate.
That night, the jet landed.
And three nights after that…
Her life changed forever.
It was supposed to be just another shift. Another evening of clearing glasses, of hearing men’s laughter spill out of the cigar lounge.
She didn’t even remember how it started—just that Dante had smiled at her. Just once. He had spoken to her, softly, like she was the only person in the world. And for the first time in her life, she felt seen.
She had trusted that look. That tone. That moment.
But the truth was darker.
She was a bet. A challenge among powerful men with too much time and too much money. Dante Creed had turned her innocence into a game.
And when she woke up…
She wasn’t on her feet behind the bar.
She wasn’t in her tiny staff quarters.
She was on the floor of one of the private suites—naked, bruised, her clothes torn beside her, and her dignity stripped away.
The laughter still echoed in her ears as she curled up in pain.
A blurry memory of men’s shadows.
Of Dante’s cold eyes, watching.
Of being held down.
Of hands she didn’t know.
Of pain that shattered her soul.
The scent of rum and cigar smoke clung to the air like a cruel perfume. Her blood had stained the sheets.
They had left her there.
Alone.
Broken.
Used.
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14.02.2013 – Present Day
“Who is she?”
The question echoed across boardrooms and business tabloids.
Selene Vale.
The name had erupted in the corporate world like a storm—an enigma wrapped in curves and confidence, with lips that dripped poison and promises.
She was seductive. Strategic. Utterly ruthless. And she was winning—taking contracts that even legacy empires couldn’t land, charming her way into billion-dollar deals and slipping through every background check with ghostlike precision.
No one knew where she came from.
But those who met her never forgot her.
Her signature black heels clicked on marble as she walked into a high-rise elevator that overlooked the skyline. The city below buzzed like ants while she adjusted her lipstick in the mirror, her red lips curling into the faintest smile.
Behind her reflection, headlines flashed across the news ticker:
“Selene Vale Snags Creed Odyssey Deal From Under Rival Empire.”
“CEO Dante Creed Declines to Comment on Recent Corporate Blow.”
Selene’s eyes narrowed as she smoothed her silk blouse, and the elevator doors slid open.
It was time for the next move.
And this time, the game was hers to play.
Let the revenge begin.
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