MasukXena Cross spent three years married to a man who treated her like a problem he hadn't figured out how to solve yet. Then Adrian solved it publicly, calling her a criminal in front of everyone who mattered in Chicago, with her own sister standing beside him and smiling. She had nowhere to go and no one willing to pick up her calls. Then Dante Yale showed up, got her out, and offered her a deal. Marry him. Take his name. Let him handle the rest. She said yes. She needed a way out and he was offering one. What she didn't know was that Dante had been watching her for three years, that he had the evidence to stop that night before it happened and chose not to, and that every move he has made since was planned long before she had any say in it. The revenge is going exactly as planned, and the world is finally at Xena's feet. But as she falls for the man who saved her, she's about to learn that Dante Yale didn't just find her in the wreckage—he's the one who ensured she crashed.
Lihat lebih banyakXena.
I gasped for breath, my legs still aching from the last round. Yet Dante stood over me like this was nothing but probably another of his one night stands.The bed was wet beneath me, wet from my juices.
I stared at the ceiling for a while, the memories of his cock inside of me played over and over again.
"Are you alright?” He asked, buttoning up his shirt.
"I can't believe," I said slowly, still not looking at him, "that I just slept with my ex-husband's uncle."
~A day ago~
"You have no choice but to attend."
Adrian said it the way he said most things. He cut into his meat and put a piece in his mouth without looking up.
I set my fork down.
"I don't like being forced into things," I remarked. "You know that."
He smirked, swirling the wine in his glass then finally looked at me. "Says the woman who was forced to marry me."
"I decided to."
He didn't argue. He just turned back to his plate and let the silence settle like he'd already won.
I picked my fork back up and stared at my food without eating it.
It was three years now and our dinners were still the same old boring conversations that went nowhere.
I had made my peace with most of it. I had stopped expecting warmth from Adrian Yale around the same time I stopped expecting an apology from my stepmother — which was to say, very early and with very little drama.
What I hadn't made my peace with was being handled.
Three years ago I didn't even know I was getting married that day.
I remembered the morning clearly. My stepmother's voice through the door. “Get dressed. Something's happened. You're needed.” No explanation until I was already in the car and gotten to the court.
Hannah had run away the morning before she was supposed to get married to the Yale family as agreed between both families.
And my stepmother turned to me as the solution.
“The scandal would destroy both families,” she had said. “You're the only option. You owe us this much.”
I had never owed them anything. But I had walked into that ceremony anyway and married him by force.
Adrian had known, of course. He wasn't happy about it. But he was also twenty-three, aware that the Yale name required the alliance, and I was close enough to what had been promised that no one had to explain anything publicly.
Now here I was, three years in, married to a man who didn't give a fuck if I died while he slept with a different woman each week.
"My point stands."
Adrian's voice pulled me back. He was watching me now with a flat expression.
"The gala is tonight," he said. "My promotion. You'll be there."
"And if I'm not?"
He set his glass down carefully. "Then I tell the story of how Hannah Cross disappeared the morning of her own wedding and a substitute showed up in her place." A pause. "The real one. With details."
I kept my face still.
He's bluffing. He had too much to lose. The Yale name would take damage too. Adrian liked his reputation more than anything and burning it to punish me didn't fit the man I'd spent three years watching.
But….
He was also sitting across from me at a dinner he'd cooked no part of, in a house he'd bought no part of and wearing a suit that cost more than some people's annual salary.
He also looked completely at ease making that threat.
I didn't want to risk it.
"Fine," I said.
He nodded like I'd confirmed something minor. Stood, buttoned his jacket.
"I'll be in the garage when you're ready." He left without pushing his chair in.
I sat at the table alone for a moment.
Then I breathed.
“Mia!!” I called and the girl came rushing in.
“Get my gown ready.”
And just like that we went to the gala.
I had attended enough of these in three years to move through them without effort. And right now I need a break.
I turned and saw a way out. Jackpot.
I was walking towards it when I heard my name.
My father's voice.
I turned, and there they were — my father and stepmother, moving through the crowd toward me.
My father's arms was already open meanwhile my stepmom kept that ugly frown she always had.
Happy to see you too.
Dad reached me first and pulled me into a hug that surprised me slightly.
“I can't believe it's been yee years," he said quietly. "Thank you for holding this together."
I didn't say anything. I just let him hold on for a moment.
My stepmother stopped just behind him, looked me over from top to bottom and scoffed, "Not bad. For an illegitimate child."
I smiled.
"That's practically a declaration of love coming from you," I said, just loud enough.
Her eyes sharpened. She opened her mouth —
"Where's your husband?" my father cut in, already scanning the room. "Adrian should be —" He stopped.
His face had gone pale.
I turned to follow his gaze.
Adrian was crossing the room on the far side of the crowd and beside him, tucked close, her hand through his arm was a woman.
I was at loss for words. It wasn't just any woman. It was—
“Hannah.” I muttered to myself in disbelief
I felt a relief in my chest
She was alive. She was standing twenty feet away looking perfectly fine.
It was like she hadn't aged at all. I smiled and rushed to hug her.
But two men in dark suits materialized from nowhere and stopped me.
I looked past them and Hannah's eyes met mine across the room.
She raised one hand, almost slowly, and pointed directly at me.
"Yes," she announced. "She's the one who kidnapped me.".
Hannah.Four times through the same document and I still hadn't found anything.I closed the laptop. Opened it again then scrolled back to the property chain and started from the top.Adrian had left at seven. He didn't always say where he was going and I didn't ask. We'd arrived at that arrangement without discussing it. I made coffee in the mornings. Left a cup on the counter for him if he hadn't left yet. He left one for me when he was up first. Neither of us commented on it.We talked about the case. The board filing. The documents. What Xena had found and what Victor had said and what Dante was doing about the forty eight hour window.We didn't talk about anything else.I'd thought about how to start that conversation approximately forty times in three days and arrived at the same conclusion each time — no clean entry point, everything I could say with too much attached to it.Adrian, as far as I could tell, had arrived at the same conclusion.So we talked about the case.I hear
Xena.Dante arrived in twenty minutes.I heard the car. Heard the door. Heard his footsteps cross the entrance hall and stop outside the study. My hands were still on the keyboard. I hadn't moved since I ended the call with Victor.He came in without knocking, closed the door behind him then looked at me."What happened," he said."Sit down," I said.He didn't sit. He stood in the middle of the room with his jacket still on and his eyes on my face and the stillness of a man who had arrived ready for something operational."The board filing," I said. "You know about it.""Victor called me on the way here," he said. "Yale Conglomerate Holdings. Graves shell. Succession claim. We have forty eight hours."Victor called you," I said."Yes.”"After I told him I was calling you directly."Something moved in his face. "Xena," he raised his brow. "I need you to listen to me," I said. "Not assess while I'm talking. Not build the counter-argument while I'm still in the sentence. Just listen."
Xena.The alert came at 11:47.I'd set it three weeks ago, Yale Industries, any board filing, any regulatory movement, anything that touched the company's formal legal structure. It had pinged twice since then with routine quarterly disclosures I'd read and filed and moved past. I'd almost turned it off twice.I didn't turn it off.My phone buzzed on the desk beside the laptop and I reached for it without looking away from the document I was reading, Cross's third letter, the one naming the channel's original designation, the one I'd been going through line by line for the fourth time.I looked at the alert.Read it once.Read it again.Yale Industries Board — Emergency Succession Filing — Submitted 11:43 AM — Claimant: Yale Conglomerate Holdings LLCI set the phone down flat on the desk.Yale Conglomerate Holdings LLC.I knew that name. Not from the documents but from Victor's briefings three weeks ago, the shell architecture he'd laid out for Dante across a kitchen table while I sto
Herald.The door at the top of the stairs was unlocked.I pushed it open.A room. Large, mostly empty. Chairs along one wall. A table in the centre with two chairs facing each other. A window with its curtain half drawn, pale afternoon light across the floor.Someone was sitting at the table.I crossed the threshold.My footsteps on the floor. The door swinging shut behind me.The man at the table looked up.I looked back at him.His eyes moved from my face down and back up. Not surprised. Not performing surprise.I knew that look.I knew his face too. Not from a meeting. Not from a room we'd shared. From briefings I hadn't been supposed to see, from reports Gerald had left on his desk and forgotten I was in the house, from the way Gerald talked about him without talking about him — the man whose name never appeared in writing but whose presence shaped every decision Gerald had made for fifteen years.The man who had been in Dante Yale's house every day for fifteen years.The man who
Dante.I pulled up at the abandoned driveway. Looking out the window, I immediately cursed under my breath.I hadn't seen this place since I was a kid. The buildings had overgrown weeds. Some already climbing the walls.Even a blind man would obviously sense the loneliness of the surroundings. "Th
Xena."It's me Xena."My eyes went wide.“ Dad?”There was silence on the other end. For a brief second, no one spoke, not a single word was said.I stood in Dante's study. We hadn't contacted each other since Adrian's promotion ceremony.“Darling I—” he pauses then heaves a sigh. “How are you doin
Xena.The ceiling in Dante's room was different from the one in the guest room.I noticed that first, which probably said something about the state of my brain. I stared at it and waited for regret to arrive.It didn't.What arrived instead was a very thorough physical awareness of every decision
Xena.The night air hit me the moment we stepped outside and I realized it was the first clean breath I'd taken in hours.Dante's car was already waiting. The long black car didn't need a logo to tell one it cost fortunes. A driver stood at the rear door without being summoned and I got in without






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