The Alpha’s Defiant Fiancée

The Billionaire’s Summons

At his office the top floor of Black Industries from his leather chair, Killian Black watched the city crawl below him like a collection of toys. On his large desk sat a thin manila folder.

Name: Elena Vance.

Profession: Behavioral Specialist / Crisis Consultant.

Status: Independent.

He tapped a rhythmic beat against the folder. He hadn't slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the way she had looked at him at the gala—like he was a bug under a microscope rather than the most powerful man in the state.

More importantly, Leo had asked for "the cracker lady" three times this morning.

The heavy double doors of his office swung open. His assistant, Marcus, looked pale. "Sir, I tried to follow your instructions, but she—"

"Did you give her the check?" Killian interrupted, not looking up.

"I did. She… she sent it back."

Killian finally looked up, his brow furrowing. "The amount was blank. She could have written any number."

"She said she doesn't take tips for being a decent person," Marcus whispered. "And then she told me to tell you that if you wanted to talk to her, you should find a phone and use it like a normal person."

Killian stood up slowly. The air in the room seemed to grow heavy. "She said what?"

Before Marcus could answer, the outer office doors slammed open. There was a commotion—the sound of a security guard protesting and the sharp click-clack of boots on the marble floor.

Elena Vance marched into the office. She was wearing the same leather jacket from the night before, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. She looked around the massive, expensive room and whistled.

"Nice office, Killian," she said, using his first name like a casual insult. "A bit cold, though. It feels like a walk-in freezer for egos."

"You can't just burst in here," Killian said, his voice a low warning. He signaled for Marcus and the guards to leave. They scrambled out, shutting the doors behind them.

Elena sat in one of the guest chairs, crossing her legs. "And you can't just send a man in a suit to my apartment at six in the morning with a blank check. People will think I’m involved in something illegal. Or worse, that I’m dating a billionaire with no social skills."

Killian walked around his desk, leaning against the edge of it. He looked down at her, trying to use his height to reclaim control. "I want you to work for me. Name your price. You’re the only person Leo has responded to in months."

"I’m not for sale," Elena said, taking a slow sip of her coffee.

"Everyone has a price, Elena. You’re a specialist. I’m offering you a career-defining contract."

"No," she said simply. "You’re offering me a cage. You want to buy my time so you don't have to deal with the 'mess' of a grieving child. You want me to fix him so you can go back to your mergers and your gala dinners."

Killian’s jaw tightened. "That is not what this is."

"Isn't it?" Elena stood up, matching his stare. She was much shorter, but she didn't move an inch. "You called this a 'summons' through your assistant. You didn't ask for help. You ordered it."

"I am trying to protect my family," Killian growled, stepping closer into her personal space. He could smell the faint scent of lemons again. "My brother is dead. My nephew is falling apart. I will do whatever it takes to fix that. If that makes me a jerk in your eyes, I don't care."

Elena’s expression softened for a split second, then the fire returned. "Then try asking. Man to woman. Not CEO to employee."

Killian looked at her, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. He wasn't used to asking. He took what he wanted. But as he looked at her defiant, bright eyes, he realized that force wouldn't work on Elena Vance.

"Please," he said, the word feeling like gravel in his throat. "Help him."

Elena stayed silent for a long moment. She looked at the blank check on the desk and then back at Killian.

"I’ll do it," she said. "But for the money.”

“Naturally, it's always about the money, isn't it?” he smirked as if he had finally gotten something against her.

“But not on your terms."

Killian blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I move into the estate," she said. "I set the schedule. And when I’m working with Leo, you follow my orders. No suits, no business calls, and no 'Alpha' nonsense. Do we have a deal?"

Killian stared at her. He hated the terms. He hated giving up control. But he needed her.

"Fine," he snapped. "But if you fail, you leave immediately."

Elena smiled, and for the first time, it wasn't a dry smirk. it was a challenge. "I don't fail, Killian. I just wait for men like you to catch up."

She turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open. Killian watched her go, his heart thudding in a way that had nothing to do with business.

He had his specialist. But he had a feeling his quiet, controlled life was about to be burned to the ground.