Victor''s life began with privilege.


    He was given the finest education, ess to every exclusive resource money


    could buy.


    But what his family offered in luxury, theycked in warmth.


    Raised in a house where affection was reced by cold, transactional exchanges, Victor became the perfect heir-ruthless, calcting, and as unyielding as steel.


    If it hadn''t been for the appearance of that little girl all those years ago, he might have grown into something far worse-reckless, perhaps even heartless.


    Suddenly, Isadora heard Victor''s low, dangerously enticing voice in her ear.


    "Sleep with me once, and I''ll hand you the entire Vaughan Group. What do you say?"


    Isadora froze.


    He made the offer as casually as if he were gifting her a piece of jewelry.


    And perhaps, for him, it really was that simple.


    Still, her heart fluttered with a mix of fear and excitement.


    Victor probably expected her to blush and look away.


    Instead, in the next instant, Isadora reached up, looped her arms around his neck, pulled his head down, and kissed him-hard.


    For the first time, she was the one in control.


    *


    Capitolion was hosting an exclusive financial summit-the most prestigious event on the calendar.


    Only the most powerful corporations were invited, with Wainwright Holdings and the Fitzgerald Group right at the top of the list.


    Magnus found himself surrounded by a cluster of CEOS and high-level executives, all eager to tter him.


    He was well aware Victor would be here tonight—and hade prepared for it.


    Just then, the grand doors to the ballroom swung open again.


    Victor entered, surrounded by a retinue of power brokers and financial experts. His charcoal-grey three-piece suit was impably tailored, every line emphasizing hismanding presence. The knot of his tie was styled to perfection, a crisp white pocket square echoing the color of his shirt. From head to toe, he radiated aristocratic confidence.


    The summit chairman and a circle of industry veterans hovered at his side as he strode in, exuding a rxed dominance.


    When Magnus caught sight of him, something dark flickered in his eyes.


    That phone call.


    For the first time in his life, Magnus had felt his dignity ground into the dirt.


    Isadora knew perfectly well that the Fitzgerald Group was Wainwright Holdings'' fiercest rival.


    And yet, to spite him, she''d deliberately gotten involved with Victor.


    As for Victor, his pursuit of Isadora now was nothing but provocation-a calcted move to get under Magnus''s skin.


    Business rivalries were one thing.


    But now Victor was after his woman, too.


    Magnus''s hand clenched at his side. He hadn''t been in a fight for years.


    If this weren''t a financial summit, he might have challenged Victor to a duel right then and there.


    Those same executives who''d been fawning over Magnus now drifted toward Victor, eager to curry favor.


    Business was war-opportunists always chasing the next advantage.


    Wainwright Holdings had once been a dominant force in finance, buttely, project after project had slipped through their fingers, snatched up by the Fitzgerald Group.


    Everyone was watching to see just how far this rivalry would go.


    Victor had just returned from abroad, unimpressed by Capitolion''s social niceties and indifferent to the rituals of deference. He barely acknowledged the respectful greetings around him.


    But when he caught sight of Magnus standing alone, he allowed himself a faint, mocking smile.


    The summit was about to begin, and everyone started making their way to their assigned seats.


    In a move clearly meant for drama, the organizers had ced Magnus and Victor side by side.


    Financial reporters, sensing a rare photo opportunity, hurried to snap a picture of the two powerhouses together.


    But the icy res from both men made them think twice-they quickly lowered their cameras and vanished.


    Magnus''s voice was cold and venomous. "So, Victor, you went after my woman just to insult me? That''s a pretty low move, even for you."


    Victor gave a sharp, sardonicugh. "Please, Mr. Wainwright. You''re not important enough for me to go to so much trouble."


    The veins in Magnus''s hand bulged as he gripped his seat.


    "Isadora''s not the type of woman you can just toy with. Name your price, whatever you want. Just remember-if word gets out that President Fitzgerald is wearing my old shoes, it won''t exactly do wonders for your reputation, will it?”