chapter 3

In the evening, Elena stepped off the elevator into Julian's penthouse, the city's glow a sharp sneer against her racing heart. Mateo's grin scorched her mind, pushing her towards answers about his death in Cross Enterprises, but Julian stood in her path with his control and fire which she should not crave, and his invitation tonight was a trap, his world oozing power and raw desire. She adjusted her clutch, the deep red dress clinging to her curves, its daring neckline and thigh-high slit begging for trouble as her heels clicked on the marble as the door opened.

Julian filled the frame, open-collared shirt, teasing hard muscle, his eyes raking her, stalling on the dress's tight fit. "Fuck, Ms Marquez". His voice was rough, dark and like a predator caught in a snare. "You don't play fair".

She stepped inside, the penthouse sleek and dim, Manhattan stretching beyond the glass walls. Her Brooklyn roots felt a world away, but she lifted her chin, the dress whispering against her thighs. "I am here for business, not your bullshit games".

He gestured to a leather chair, smirking. "Sit, make yourself at home."

She arched her brow, hand on her hip. "Did not know you could be this polite".

Julian's smirk twisted and snide. "Don't get used to it. I'm not your fucking butler." He poured whiskey from a crystal decanter, eyes burning and locked on her curves. "Play smart, and you might like the prize."

Her pulse hammered, desire slamming into distrust. He is tied to the company that killed Mateo. Why does my body scream for him? She stayed standing and defiant. "You hired me for the rebranding. Now I want a deal— I will be your fake fiancée to clean up your PR mess. In return, I need full system access."

His eyes narrowed, tone smooth. "System access? Fucking bold". He closed the gap, his heat brushing her bare shoulders. "What do I get in return? That pussy under this dress?"

Her nipples hardened, the dress's thin fabric betraying her, heat flooded her core, wet and urgent. He's playing me, and I am melting. "You get a flawless fiancée. Public charm, no drama but my rules and no strings".

He laughed, low and dirty. "No strings?" His lips grazed her ear, breath hot, sparking shivers down her spine. "My world's all chains, Ms Marquez." Her thighs clenched, a pulse of need ripping through. "You think you can run this?"

Her skin burned, her body begging to grind against him. Fuck, he's too much. Elias's touch was softer, but this owns me. "Try chaining me, you will fucking snap", she said, voice sharp, barely hiding her want. "This is a deal, not a cage".

"Goddamn, that mouth." He pulled back, eyes blazing with lust, but a shadow flickered, secrets? "You're hired, fiancée included. But you play by my rules." His voice hardened and dominant. "Step out of line, and I'll drag your ass back".

Her core throbbed, his threat setting her ablaze. He is hiding something, and I'm drowning in this shit."I do not break", she said. "Someone died in your lab, I am here for the truth".

He stiffened, eyes sharp. "Someone?" His tone cut and probing. "Why's a designer chasing lab accidents?" His fingers tightened on his glass, eyes sharp.

Her heart skipped. He didn't know Mateo was her brother. Keep it tight. "It is about trust," she lied, firmly. "Your company's got blood on its hands. I need to know what I am dealing with".

He studied her, frame tense. "The lab's a fucking tragedy, not your fight. Do the rebranding, play the fiancée, attend galas and my hands all over you." His fingers brushed her bare arm, lingering, sending a jolt to her core. "Push me, I'll push harder".

Her body hummed as her skin screamed for more. I am falling and Elias's smile still messes with me. How do I want them both? "Deal". She offered her hand. He gripped it, thumb stroking her wrist, sparking heat that burned her whole body, her breath hitching.

The door clicked. Elias strode in, blazer sharp, collar loose, brown eyes snagging on her dress, widening before darkening with raw want. "Fucking hell, Elena." His voice was low, a growl, his cool cracking. "You're a goddamn problem."

Her pulse spiked, his reaction fanning the fire Julian lit. He wants me, but he is in their world. "All set?" She asked, her voice steady despite the wet heat pooling under his gaze.

"Looks like it", Elias said, jaw twitching, eyes flicking to Julian's hand on hers. "Deal done?"

"Done", Julian said, not breaking Elena's gaze. "She's my designer and my fiancée, publicly. A challenge I'll fucking devour".

Elias's smile was slow, lingering, planting a seed of connection. "Smart pick." His eyes held Elena's, warm, hungry. "Are you cool with this?"

Her chest tightened. He cares, but he is tied to Julian. Why does his smile fuck me up? "I am cool," she said, sharp. "I know my play."

"Right". Elias handed her a tablet with design files, fingers brushing hers, slow and warm, staying too long. "I'm here if you need me." His voice was a caress, thick with unspoken desire.

Her skin tingled, his touch a soft flame against Julian's inferno. "Thanks", she said, stepping back, her dress shifting, baring more thighs. Elias's gaze dropped, his throat bobbing, a low curse under his breath.

Julian's eyes flashed, tracking Elias. "Get the fuck out, Navarro. She's handled".

Elias grinned, unbothered. "Just making sure she's not choking on your bullshit, Cross". He shot Elena a look— half tease, half longing, then left. His smile searing in her mind.

Her pulse raced then she faced Julian, voice firm. "What's next? I am not here to stall".

"Eager little thing." He grinned, sipping whiskey, eyes tracing her neckline. "Tomorrow's a gala. Your debut as my fiancée. The media is sniffing and Damian Reed's stirring shit with his company. I need you to dazzle and distract".

Her gut twisted. Reed, a rival name tied to Cross Enterprises' scandals. Could he know about the lab? "I'll deliver it," she said. "But I want answers. No fucking games".

Julian's smirk faded, eyes hardening. "Relentless". He stepped close, his chest brushing hers, voice a growl. "Push too deep, and you'll get fucked".

Her breath caught, his heat overwhelming, her body aching to close the gap. "I am not soft", she said, chin up. "I am all in".

He nodded, eyes raking her curves. "Sign". He slid a contract across the desk, his arm grazing hers, her skin igniting a wet pulse between her thighs. "Make it real".

She scanned it; public duties, confidentiality, no answers promised. She signed, hand steady, but her mind spun.

Her eyes snagged a folder; Lab Failure Report in stark ink. Her heart leaped. The lab accident? Julian caught her stare, his frame stiffening.

"Forget it," he said, his voice cold as ice. "That's not your fucking game".

"Not yet", she shot back, locking her eyes. "But I play to win".

He closed the gap, his breath brushing her lips, body inches from hers. "You're dancing with fire, Ms Marquez." His voice was thick, hungry. "I want to watch you fucking burn".

Her body ached, wet and desperate, need and fear colliding. "I burn bright", she said, turning to leave, the dress swaying, his gaze searing her skin.

As she reached the floor, her phone buzzed— a text from an unknown number: Marquez deserved better. Check the lab logs and trust no one.