My ex laughed the loudest as champagne soaked through my black dress, ran down my legs, and pooled inside my shoes while nearly forty people watched me burn with humiliation. Six months earlier, Damian had dumped me by text, coldly saying I no longer fit into his future—but apparently breaking my heart wasn’t enough for him. He wanted an audience when he humiliated me again. Then the ballroom doors opened, and the most feared man in New York walked in—and Damian had no idea who he had just embarrassed in front of him.

The Maybach pulled into the private underground garage of a massive limestone mansion on Fifth Avenue.

The estate felt like a modern fortress. Armed guards stood at every entrance, wearing dark suits with tactical earpieces. The private elevator whisked us straight up to the penthouse floor, opening into a sunlit, marble-floored paradise overlooking Central Park.

A middle-aged housekeeper in a neat uniform met us in the foyer.

"Welcome home, Mr. Mercer," she said respectfully, bowing her head slightly before turning to me with a warm, welcoming smile. "Good evening, Miss Ava. I am Mrs. Gable. I have prepared the master suite for you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gable," Julian said softly. "Please bring up some warm soup and tea for Ava. She's had a long night."

Julian guided me down a long, mahogany-paneled hallway lined with priceless artwork to a bedroom that was larger than my entire Brooklyn apartment building. It featured a king-sized canopy bed, a marble fireplace roaring with a warm fire, and floor-to-ceiling windows showing the glittering Manhattan skyline.

In the center of the room sat three tall racks filled with designer clothing, shoes, and silk gowns—all bearing tags from Chanel, Dior, and Alexander McQueen.

I turned to Julian, bewildered. "How did you... how did you get all this here? We only made the deal twenty minutes ago!"

"I don't leave things to chance, Ava," Julian said smoothly, stepping into the room and leaning against the doorframe. "I had my team purchase your size specifications from your agency's file three days ago. I knew you would say yes."

"You're arrogant," I murmured, though there was no real bite to my words.

"I am prepared," he corrected softly. "Take a warm bath, Ava. Get some sleep. Tomorrow at ten o'clock, we have our first public appearance as an engaged couple."

"Where?"

Julian’s eyes glinted with dark amusement. "The Langford Charity Luncheon at the Plaza Hotel. Victoria's mother is hosting it. And Damian Cross will be waiting on tables as part of his firm's mandatory community outreach."

A thrill of pure, unadulterated anticipation shot through my chest.

"I'll be ready," I said.

Julian walked over to me, stopping inches away. He reached out, his warm knuckles lightly brushing a stray strand of hair from my cheek, his dark eyes searching mine with intense heat.