CHAPTER 2

JOCELYN’s POV

I didn’t sleep, not because I couldn’t, but because I refused to.

Crying in bed all night over Ethan and Clarissa would have been exactly what they expected from me, the naïve little heiress, heartbroken and helpless. As much as I wanted to act strong, I couldn’t help but be shattered. The grief of losing my whole world stayed with me. It clung tight to me. I cried all through the night. It was hard to sleep when there was a boulder on my chest.

Unable to do anything, I stayed in for days and mourned the life I thought I had. I let myself wallow in sadness.

A notification popped up on my phone the next day, still from Clarissa. She was messaging to remind me that the bridal shower brunch would happen today, so I shouldn’t be late. I scoffed, staring at the message. If I hadn’t found out the truth, I would probably be smiling at this text now, gushing over how she was the best cousin in the world.

Still in thought, another notification came in, a message from Ethan – Call me when you wake up, I miss you.

“These two despicable…” I cursed under my breath, angrily deleting their messages without reading them twice.

By sunrise, my coffee was still untouched. My mind felt sharp and clearer, drifting back to Daniel Steel. Ethan’s estranged stepbrother, the handsome, ruthless, and brilliant one. The kind of man who could end someone’s career with a well-placed whisper.

Daniel was the one man Ethan hated more than anyone. The Steele family history was its own soap opera. Victoria Steele had married Ethan’s father after Daniel’s mother passed away. Daniel and Ethan had been rivals from day one. And then there was me. Daniel and I had crossed paths countless times over the years at corporate galas and business dinners. Every time, he’d been the same cold, calculating, maddening smug. He didn’t just dislike me; he made it clear.

Once, at a Campbell Group benefit dinner, he’d looked me in the eyes and leaned close enough for only me to hear, then said, “You think Ethan’s marrying you for love. You’re not that naïve, are you? You’ll regret it.”

I had walked away from him that night, furious, but now, his words taunted me, and I hated that he was right. He was right, I had been naive.

I didn’t call him. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of hearing desperation in my voice. I was going to show up unannounced.

The Steele Tower was the tallest building in the financial district, a sleek black glass with the Steele's name glinting silver at the top. The kind of building that didn’t welcome you so much as it dared you to try your luck.

“Miss Campbell?” The receptionist’s brows lifted when she saw me. “Mr. Steele doesn’t have you on his schedule—”

“He doesn’t have to. He doesn’t have a problem with me showing up without making a schedule,” I said evenly, my heels clicking against the floor as I crossed to the private elevator.

It was a gamble, but I knew Daniel. If there was one thing he hated more than Ethan, it was someone making moves without him knowing. The ride to the top floor was silent except for the soft hum of the elevator. My reflection in the mirrored walls stared back at me.

I didn’t look like a woman whose world had just exploded, and that was the point. I didn’t look like a woman who had cried herself to sleep.

Daniel’s office was exactly what I expected: glass walls overlooking the skyline, polished steel desk, dark leather furniture. There was power and precision in every detail. He was at his desk, tie loose, with a jacket draped over the back of his chair. His attention was on a document, pen tapping idly against the edge of the paper.

He looked up slowly when I stepped in.. I almost forgot that he had one of the bluest eyes that I had ever seen.

He brushed his hands through his hair as he sat up to stare at me closely.

A slow, dangerous smile appeared on his face. I noticed the curve on his mouth and how he positioned himself on his chair when he saw me.

His stance was perfect. He was stunning. There was no need to tell him. The stares he got alone gave it up.

Whenever we happened to be at the same parties. Women from the corners would always talk about him. Even those who were married.

Wanting him was not what I was here for. I needed him.

He looked like he already knew why I was here.

“Jocelyn Campbell,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair. “To what do I owe the rare honor? Don’t tell me you’ve come to invite me to the wedding. I wasn’t planning on attending.”

I didn’t take the bait. I walked over to his desk, standing directly in front.

“I need your help.”

His brows lifted slightly, but the smugness didn’t fade. “That’s new. Usually, you roll your eyes and go running back to my idiot brother.”

I tapped my fingers on his desk, thinking of the next words to say. “I am being serious. Things have changed.”

His gaze sharpened, the amusement in his eyes mixed with curiosity. “Changed how?”

I took a seat, setting my bag down carefully, my hands steady.

“Ethan and Clarissa have been planning against me for months. They intend to take my company, my shares, everything I own.”

Daniel’s smirk deepened. “I tried to warn you,” he said. “But you were drunk on your fairytale. Now here you are, asking the villain for help.”

I clenched my jaw. “This isn’t about you being right. It’s about what they’ve done, and I want to make them regret it.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on me, like I was a game he’d been waiting years to play. His biceps are flexing. I hated that my gaze went there.

“But why should I help you in the first place?” he said finally, more a statement than a question.

“You hate your brother.”

Daniel set his pen down, rising from his chair. He moved like a man who knew the weight of every step he took. He stopped just in front of me, close enough that I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, and the glint of danger in his eyes.

“So what exactly do you want from me, Jocelyn?” His voice was low and measured.

“I want them ruined,” I said simply. “Completely. Publicly. Without coming back from it.”

For a moment, he just studied me, and his expression was unreadable; then he let out a low, sharp, not unkind, but not warm laughter.

“You know what I like about this, Campbell?” he said finally. “You’ve finally stopped playing the perfect little fiancée. I was starting to think there wasn’t any fire in you.”

I met his gaze, not flinching. “Are you going to help me or not?”

He tilted his head, a faint smirk curving his sexy mouth. “That depends.”

My stomach tightened. “On what?”

His smirk widened, and I knew before he even spoke that whatever came next, I wasn’t going to like it.