THE DEAL
The city was restless. It pulsed like a living thing—neon lights flickering, engines roaring, lives unraveling behind tinted windows. Aiden Riverdale watched from above.
From the 55th floor of the Riverdale Group Tower, he stood by the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand, the ice melting slowly—just like his patience.
“Robert Carter is out of time,” Jaxon Pierce muttered from behind him. “He owes you millions. Still no payment.”
Aiden tilted his head, his emerald-green eyes reflecting the skyline. He didn’t tolerate debts. He collected them.
He set his glass down, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt. “Call him.”
The phone rang. Once. Twice.
Then came the voice—a mix of desperation and fake bravado.
“Ah, Aiden! Just the man I wanted to talk to!”
“You have sixty seconds to tell me why you’re still breathing,” Aiden murmured, his tone smooth, lethal.
Silence. Then a forced chuckle. “Look, mate, I need a little more time—”
“You had time. Now, you have two choices—pay, or disappear.”
Robert exhaled sharply. “Okay, okay. Meet me at my pub tonight. I have a… proposal.”
Aiden didn’t usually entertain excuses. But something about Robert’s voice—that sickening, snake-like confidence—made him pause.
“One hour,” he said before hanging up.
He turned to Jaxon, his jaw ticking. “Let’s see what Carter’s playing at.”
Because if it wasn’t money, it was blood.
The pub was a cage of sin. Cheap whiskey. A bass-heavy song vibrating against the walls. Women draped over men with blackened souls.
Aiden walked in, and the air shifted. Conversations stilled, eyes darting to the man who owned every room he entered.
Robert was waiting, a greasy grin plastered across his face. He lifted a glass as Aiden approached.
“Aiden, my friend!”
“You are not my friend,” Aiden said, lowering into the seat across from him, his movements calm, controlled, dangerous. “Your time is up.”
Robert leaned in. “What if I told you I had something… better?”
Aiden’s fingers tapped once against the table. “Explain.”
Robert’s smirk widened. “A girl.”
Aiden’s expression didn’t shift. But his grip on the glass tightened.
“Say that again.”
Robert chuckled nervously. “Not just any girl. She’s smart. Beautiful. She could be… a perfect distraction for you. Consider it part of the payment.”
Aiden should have shot him in the head. Right then. Right there.
But he was in a mood tonight. A restless, irritated, dangerous mood.
So instead, he leaned back, tilting his head slightly. “Fine. Send her up.”
If he had known who was about to walk through his door, he would have put a bullet in Robert instead.
The hallway outside the penthouse suite was eerily silent.
Sienna adjusted the strap of her dress, a deep unease curling in her stomach.
Her stepfather had insisted she meet a “business client”—a man who needed financial guidance. She had done consultations before, helping shady businessmen with their books.
But something about tonight… felt off.
Taking a steady breath, she knocked.
A voice—low, rich, dangerous—rumbled from the other side. “Come in.”
She stepped inside.
And froze.
A man stood by the window, his body bathed in the golden city lights.
Tall. Shirtless. Devastatingly built. His torso was pure power, muscles carved like a Roman god. His green eyes flicked to her—sharp, assessing, unimpressed.
Sienna’s stomach twisted. This was no business client.
“Strip,” the man said.
Her pulse slammed into her ribs. “Excuse me?”
He turned fully, stepping toward her. “You heard me.”
Her mouth went dry. “There must be a mistake. I was told—”
Realization dawned. Robert had set her up.
Oh, God.
Panic surged. She turned to leave—
A steel grip caught her wrist.
Heat. Strength. Power.
Her breath hitched. “Let. Me. Go.”
His jaw tightened. “No one walks away from me.”
Sienna met his gaze, her pulse hammering. Then—
She swung her hand, fast.
The slap cracked through the silence.
Aiden’s head barely moved, but the slow, controlled way he straightened—the flicker of dark amusement in his eyes—sent chills down her spine.
“No one,” he murmured, “has ever done that before.”
Good.
She shoved him back. Hard.
And then she ran.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Aiden stood motionless.
His cheek tingled. Not from pain. From shock.
A woman had just hit him. Resisted him. Run from him.
His ego should have burned. Instead—
A slow, dark smirk tugged at his lips.
“Interesting.”
Very, very interesting.
He reached for his phone. “Find out who she is.”
Because Aiden Riverdale had just decided on his next obsession.
And Sienna Brooks?
She had no idea she’d just started a war.
