CLAIMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE CEO MAN

Chapter 9

The thunderous applause from the Global Design Summit was still ringing in Elena’s ears as Alec ushered her into the waiting limousine. The crystal trophy sat heavily in her lap, refracting the amber streetlights flashing through the tinted windows.

"Global Designer of the Year," Alec murmured, his thumb lazily tracing the inner curve of her wrist, feeling her elevated pulse. "Though they hardly needed a trophy to confirm what I already knew."

Elena leaned back against the supple leather, letting out a breath she felt like she’d been holding for three years. "It feels surreal, Alec. Six months ago, I was sitting in a cheap office writing pitches for a man who didn't even want to be seen in public with me."

"That man is currently serving four years at Rikers, Elena," Alec said, his voice instantly darkening, though his touch on her wrist remained extraordinarily gentle. "Where he belongs. Don't waste another second of your thoughts on him."

She looked at him—at the sharp jawline, the possessive, fierce focus in his blue eyes, and the tailored tuxedo that fit his broad shoulders flawlessly. "I'm not. I was just thinking about how fast everything changed once you pulled up in that Maybach."

"Not fast enough," Alec growled, leaning across the seat to press his lips against her throat, right above the collar of her royal-blue gown. His hand slid firmly over her hip, his fingers digging into the silk. "I wasted too much time letting you think you had to prove yourself to anyone."

The limousine glided into the underground private entrance of Mercer Tower. But instead of taking the elevator straight to the penthouse, Alec led her down a secure, keycard-restricted hallway toward the corporate wing's private executive suites.

"Where are we going?" Elena asked, holding the skirt of her gown as her heels clicked against the polished black marble.

"Your anniversary present," Alec replied smoothly, pulling open a pair of massive frosted-glass doors.

The room inside was dark until automatic sensors flooded the space with warm, recessed lighting. Elena froze in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat.

It wasn't an office. It was a state-of-the-art master atelier spanning three thousand square feet. High-end digital drafting tables, raw silk and velvet fabric bolts from Milan hanging on custom brass racks, and a sprawling glass balcony overlooking the Manhattan skyline filled the room. But what made her heart hammer against her ribs was the wall directly opposite the entrance.

Mounted on the matte-black accent wall in polished brass lettering was a new corporate emblem:

VANCE & MERCER | GLOBAL LUXURY COUTURE

"Alec..." Elena whispered, stepping into the center of the room. Her fingers brushed against the edge of a custom marble cutting table. "This... this is a separate brand."

"Mercer Enterprises was the launchpad," Alec said, stepping behind her and wrapping his heavy arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. "This is your house. Fifty percent voting rights, complete creative autonomy, and a twenty-million-dollar initial capital fund. No board approval needed. No oversight. Just your vision."

Elena turned in his arms, looking up into his eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his faith in her. "You set up an entire luxury house for me?"

"I built a stage big enough for my wife," Alec corrected softly, his hand coming up to gently cup her jaw, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbone. "You spent years being hidden away in the shadows by a coward who was terrified of your brilliance. I want the entire world to know who owns this industry."

Elena smiled, a slow, radiant expression of pure love and confidence. She reached up, hooking her fingers into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, pulling him down until his breath brushed her lips. "I love you, Alexander."

"Say it again," Alec purred, his grip tightening on her waist, lifting her heels slightly off the marble floor.

"I love you," she repeated, her voice steady and warm.

Before Alec could answer, his private phone vibrated sharply against his chest. He ignored it at first, capturing her mouth in a slow, deep kiss that made her knees go weak, but the device continued to buzz incessantly—a specific triple-ring pattern reserved strictly for top-level emergency security alerts.

Alec pulled back reluctantly, his jaw tight with irritation. He retrieved the phone from his pocket, sliding the screen open.

"This had better be critical, Vance," Alec snapped into the receiver, keeping his arm firmly clamped around Elena’s waist.

"Sir, we have a breach at the holding facility," his chief of security, Vance, reported, his voice crisp, rushed, and stripped of all composure over the speaker. "It’s not Julian. It’s his father—Arthur Vance."

Elena’s eyes widened.

Arthur Vance was a notorious, retired corporate raider who had spent the last decade living off offshore accounts in Geneva. He had abandoned Julian years ago, but his legal team was legendary for ruthless, scorched-earth litigation.

"What about him?" Alec demanded, his eyes narrowing into cold slits.

"Arthur Vance just landed at JFK on a private charter," the security chief reported. "He’s retained the most aggressive corporate defense firm in the country. They’ve just filed an emergency injunction with the state supreme court challenging the legitimacy of the Mercer-Vance IP transfer, claiming Arthur originally funded the master design patents five years ago."

Alec let out a short, cold, vicious laugh. "He’s trying to freeze the new brand before the market opens tomorrow morning."

"There's more, Mr. Mercer," the chief added, hesitating slightly. "Arthur Vance brought someone with him. A woman named Victoria Sterling."

Elena felt the air leave the room.

Victoria Sterling—the heiress to Sterling Global, the rival firm Julian had tried to sell her stolen files to, and Alec’s former high-society ex-fiancée.

Alec’s grip on Elena’s waist tightened to steel, his voice dropping into a register so dark and lethal it sent a shiver down her spine. "Tell my legal team to meet me in the boardroom in twenty minutes. And tell Arthur Vance that if he sets foot near my wife, I won't just ruin his remaining assets—I will bury him."

Alec hung up the phone, tossing it onto the marble cutting table. He looked down at Elena, his blue eyes burning with an intense, protective fury.

"It seems Julian's family doesn't know when to accept defeat," Alec said softly, his fingers sliding up her neck to cup the back of her head.

"They think they can use your past against us," Elena said, her green eyes flashing with a cold, newfound fire. She didn't shrink back; she stood taller, resting her hand over the polished brass lettering of her new brand name on the wall. "They think because Julian failed, his father can finish the job."

"They're going to learn the same lesson Julian did," Alec promised, bowing his head to press a fierce, lingering kiss to her lips. "Except this time, I won't leave enough of them left to file a lawsuit."