~Ashley~

I sat in my tiny apartment, staring at the numbers flashing on my laptop screen. No matter how many times I recalculated, the truth remained the same; I was out of options. The company was sinking, and if I didn’t find a solution soon, everything my father had built, everything I had worked for, would be gone.

"Maybe there’s another way," Felicia, my best friend, said softly from across the table. She twirled a pen between her fingers, her expression thoughtful.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "There isn’t, Fel. Investors are pulling out left and right. The bank won’t approve another loan, and I don’t have enough collateral to take out a private one."

She hesitated before speaking again. "There’s always Ivan Roman."

My breath hitched at the name.

Ivan Roman. Ruthless. Calculated. A businessman who played by his own rules. I had heard about him; after everyone had. He had a reputation for saving failing billion-dollar companies, but he never did it for free. Memories of our encounter made deadpool in my stomach as I considered approaching him for money.

I swallowed hard. "I don't think he's going to bat an eyelid at my problems, Felicia. We don't have a smooth history of meeting."

She leaned forward. "So what? You need money, Ashley. And from what I’ve heard, he doesn’t just help companies, he transforms them. A one time offense shouldn't cloud his sense of philanthropy."

She wasn’t wrong. Ivan Roman had built an empire from nothing. The companies he had backed were now some of the most powerful in the world. If anyone could turn things around, it was him. But there was always a price.

I stared at my hands, torn between pride and desperation. "I’ll think about it."

Felicia gave me a knowing look. "You don’t have time to think."

Three days later, I found myself standing in front of Ivan Roman’s towering office building. The sheer size of it made me feel small, insignificant. But I pushed those feelings aside and stepped through the glass doors.

A polished receptionist greeted me, her eyes cool and professional. "Miss Carson?"

"Yes." I answered, a bit surprised.

"Mr. Roman is expecting you."

Expecting me? My stomach twisted as I followed her down the hall to an elevator that took me straight to the top floor. When the doors opened, I was met with a sleek, minimalist office. The air smelled of leather and expensive cologne.

And there he was.

Ivan Roman sat behind a large desk, his figure still as towering and broad as ever. His dark eyes pierced as they landed on me. He was just as intimidating as I remembered, tall, powerful, exuding an effortless confidence that made me feel like a tiny insect.

"You finally came," he said, his voice smooth, amused.

I lifted my chin. "I know I shouldn't be here but I had no choice."

"They never do." He murmured and I bit back a striking remark.

"I need a loan.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. "I don’t do loans, Ashley."

My fingers curled into fists. "I know you help struggling businesses."

"I do." He smirked. "But my assistance always comes with a price."

I swallowed. "How much?"

His smirk widened. "Not money."

A chill ran down my spine. "Then what?"

He stood, walking around the desk until he was standing directly in front of me. Close. Too close.

"I want you," he said simply. "In my bed. No commitments. Just pleasurable sex. I promise I won't force you. You give me that, and I’ll give you the money you need."

The room felt suddenly too small, the air too thick. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as his words settled over me.

Ivan Roman didn’t just want to own my company.

He wanted to own me.

I stormed out of Ivan Roman’s office, my entire body trembling with rage and disgust. The audacity. The arrogance. He thought he could buy me, reduce me to some meaningless arrangement where he pulled the strings and I danced to his tune.

Tears stung my eyes as I stepped into the cold evening air, wrapping my arms around myself as I hailed a cab. I had come here hoping for salvation, for a chance to save my father’s company. Instead, I had been offered a deal that made my stomach turn.

By the time I reached my apartment, my mind was still spinning. I needed to clear my head, maybe take a hot shower and sleep off the humiliation. But as I stepped inside, my entire world shattered.

Moans. Breathless gasps. The vile sounds of sex filled my ears before I even saw them. My heart clenched painfully as I took cautious steps toward my bedroom, the door slightly ajar. And then, I saw them.

Ethan. My boyfriend. The man I had spent two years loving, trusting, believing in.

Violet. My sister. The one person who had made my life miserable since childhood, yet I had still foolishly tried to love her.

They were together in my bed, his hands gripping her waist, her lips parted in a blissful sigh as she was riding him. My stomach churned, and for a moment, I thought I might be sick.

My bag slipped from my fingers, the sound crashing through the betrayal-soaked air. Ethan turned his head lazily, as if annoyed by the interruption. Violet didn’t even bother to cover herself, only smirking as she sat up, letting the sheets pool around her.

"You’re early," she said, her voice sickeningly sweet.

My body felt frozen, my mind unable to process the sheer cruelty of what I was witnessing. "How could you?" My voice cracked, my chest heaving as I fought to keep the sobs at bay.

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Ashley, don’t be dramatic."

I blinked. "Dramatic?"

Violet giggled, stretching like a satisfied cat. "Oh, come on, Ash. You had to have seen this coming."

I clenched my fists. "You’re my sister."

She rolled her eyes. "Half-sister. And honestly, Ethan was never really into you. You were just... convenient."

The room spun. My lungs ached from the effort it took to breathe.

Ethan shrugged. "Violet and I are getting married. Your stepmother approves, and your father doesn’t care."

That was the final blow. My father, the one person who was supposed to have my back, had let this happen. I felt like I was suffocating, drowning in betrayal that I couldn’t escape. Everyone knew about this affair except me. They made a fool of me.

Without another word, I turned on my heels and ran. Ran away from them, from that house, from everything that had ever caused me pain.

I didn’t stop until I reached the club, the colorful lights flashing. I needed to forget. I needed to drown this pain in something stronger than tears.

Tonight, I was going to drink until I felt nothing at all.

The burn of alcohol slid through my throat as I slumped against the bar, my vision hazy, my limbs heavy. The music pulsed in my ears, drowning out my thoughts, numbing the raw ache in my chest.

"Another," I mumbled, waving at the bartender.

He hesitated for a second before placing another glass in front of me. I downed it without thinking, the sharp taste making my throat burn. My fingers fumbled for my phone, but I couldn’t even focus on the screen.

I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there before I felt eyes on me. A cold sensation crawled up my spine. Slowly, I turned my head to see a group of men watching me from across the room. Their stares were intense, predatory.

I swallowed hard and grabbed my bag, stumbling to my feet. The room spun, the alcohol making my legs unsteady. I barely made it out of the club before I realized they were following me.

Mustering all the energy I could gather, I made it to my street. A dark lonely road was all I could see and at once, I regretted my decision to leave the busy club.

"Hey, sweetheart," one of them called out, his voice slurred with amusement. "Need some company?"

My pulse spiked, panic gripping me as I quickened my pace. But my legs wouldn’t cooperate. The alley ahead was dark, too quiet, and I knew I had made a mistake.

"Come here, pretty. We don't bite. I'm sure you need a ride home, uh?" Another one said, grabbing his bulge in his pants as they bursted into laughter.

"No, please..." but they pounced on me, tearing the fabric of my shirt and making me scream. "Stop."

Before they could fully strip me naked, a shadow moved.

Then, the air broke into commotion.

Men shouted in pain, bodies hitting the pavement. The sickening crunch of breaking bones filled the air, followed by deep grunts and muffled screams. I blinked through my drunken haze, my vision unfocused, but I saw them; men skilled in throwing punches and fighting off the bastards that had just tried to take advantage of me.

Strong hands wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly. I gasped, but the scent that surrounded me was familiar, rich, dark, and intoxicating. My head lolled against a firm chest, the steady beat of a heart beneath my cheek.

Whoever he was, he was warm. Strong.

And his cologne smelled just like Ivan Roman.