Faye Matthews POV:

I stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window of the guest room, looking down at the glittering expanse of Manhattan.

The luxury of this place was beyond anything I had ever imagined.

It made me feel small and deeply uneasy.

The words of my adoptive parents, Preston and Carol, echoed in my mind, each one a needle prick to my heart.

They didn't just take my fiancé.

They tried to erase my past, to redefine me as a contemptible thief.

I wouldn't let them.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

I would have my revenge.

I would take back what was mine.

But how?

Preston controlled Aethelred Group, a giant in New York's business world.

And I was nothing more than an exiled, helpless adopted daughter.

My gaze fell on the "BS" handkerchief I had washed and laid out to dry on the nightstand.

Blake Sterling.

The name flashed in my mind.

I knew nothing about him, except that a man who lived in a place like this was not simple.

His lawyer would contact me tomorrow.

This was my chance.

My only chance.

I needed a force strong enough to stand against Preston.

I opened the laptop in the guest room and typed "Blake Sterling" into the search bar.

The results made me suck in a breath.

Blake Sterling, 29.

Star captain of the NHL's New York Titans, known as the "Ice Tyrant" for his aggressive style and cold demeanor.

More importantly, he was the President of Apex Holdings, a vast global empire.

His wealth and influence dwarfed Preston's.

I stared at a photo of him in his hockey gear, his eyes sharp and piercing.

It finally explained the intimidating aura he carried.

But why me?

Why would a titan of industry and sports notice a pathetic, rain‑soaked woman at that small café?

I couldn't figure it out.

But one thing was clear: if I could form an alliance with him, I would have the leverage I needed to fight back.

I needed a plan.

I couldn't just wait for his lawyer to make me an offer.

I had to seize the initiative.

I picked up my phone and called my best and only friend, Chloe Montgomery.

"Faye? Oh my god, you finally called! I saw the news. Are you okay? Where are you?"

Chloe's frantic voice filled the line.

I quickly told her everything that had happened, leaving out the part about Blake Sterling.

I just said I was in a safe place.

Chloe exploded.

"Those bastards! And your parents, who are so biased their brains are in their armpits!"

"Chloe, I need your help," I said, my voice eerily calm, cutting through her tirade.

"Anything. I'll go to war for you."

"I need a file on Blake Sterling. As detailed as possible. Not the public stuff. I need private information—his business style, his weaknesses, even... his love life."

There was a pause on the other end.

Chloe's voice turned serious.

"Faye, what are you planning? Blake Sterling is not Carter. He's a very dangerous man."

"I know," I said. "But I have no other choice. I want to make a deal with him. A PR contract."

I explained my idea.

I would use my current "news-worthy" status to sign a fake dating contract with him.

He could use me to create a more relatable, talked-about public image.

In return, I could use his influence to make Preston and Carter think twice before messing with me again.

It was a crazy plan.

But I had to take the gamble.

Chloe was silent for a long time.

"Okay," she finally said. "You're insane. But I'm insane with you. I have some contacts in the PR world. I'll see what I can dig up. But Faye, you need to be sure about this. Once you get involved with Blake Sterling, you can never go back to being a normal person."

"I can't go back anyway," I whispered, watching the sky outside begin to lighten.

After hanging up, I felt a flicker of strength return.

I went to the bathroom and looked at my reflection.

Pale face, red-rimmed eyes.

I splashed cold water on my face until I felt fully awake.

I had to be at my best for the upcoming "negotiation."

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door.

It was Blake's assistant.

He brought a brand-new, perfectly-sized women's suit and a professional makeup kit.

"Miss Matthews, Mr. Sterling thought you might need these today," the assistant said respectfully.

I stared at the items, and that feeling of being completely seen through washed over me again.

This man seemed to anticipate my every move.