Addie went to her fiancé’s corporate office to surprise him, only to push open the door and find a blonde stranger straddling him on his desk.

After three years of devotion, Jennings didn't even look guilty. Instead, he scoffed with casual cruelty. "Her pathetic little company depends entirely on my funding. Without me, she'd be bankrupt in a month. After the wedding, she won't have a choice but to spread her legs."

Disgusted, Addie ripped her engagement ring from her neck and hurled it at his face.

But Jennings was confident she’d come crawling back. He instantly froze her startup's funding, and her own father threatened to disown her if she didn't apologize to the cheating heir just to save their families' corporate merger.

Cornered and humiliated, Addie refused to bow. Stepping out of the building, she bumped into a dusty, rugged construction worker. To permanently sever ties and spite her arrogant ex, she grabbed the stranger's arm.

"I would rather marry him than spend one more minute with you!" she declared, dragging the penniless worker straight to City Hall.

She thought she was just using a quiet stranger for a paper marriage. Feeling guilty, she even gave him her spare key and a bank card so he wouldn't go hungry while she scrambled to save her dying company.

But days later, an impossible $50 million investment dropped into her failing account. And when a predatory client tried to assault her during a business trip, the conference room door was kicked off its hinges by terrifying men in bespoke suits who brutally shattered the attacker's bones.

Addie stared at the scene, her mind reeling. Her quiet, sweet "construction worker" husband—the man currently spending her pocket money—wasn't just a random guy off the street. She had accidentally married Hurley Slate, the untouchable shadow ruler of Chicago's financial underworld. And he was absolutely obsessed with his new wife.

——

"I can't believe we're finally going to get married..."

Addie was on her way to Jennings' office, wanting to share this good news with him as soon as possible.

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs, while her fingers kept touching the necklace resting against her collarbone—a thin silver chain threaded through the band of a ring. The inside of the ring was engraved with their names. It was an engagement gift from her fiancé, Jennings. He had promised that on their wedding day, he would take the chain off and slide the ring onto her finger himself.

“Surpri…”

The word died on her tongue.

On the floor just inside the doorway lay a pair of red stilettos, discarded carelessly on the carpet. Further in, a scrap of pink lace. And crumpled on the floor beside the desk—the dark navy boxers she had bought for Jennings.

From the private bathroom inside his office, the door slightly ajar, came a thick, unmistakable rhythm of wet, heavy breathing. The sound of fabric scraping against skin. And then—a sharp, breathless gasp.

Addie froze.

The blood drained from her face so quickly that the room tilted. Her fingers clamped around the ring on her chest, knuckles going bone-white.

She moved without thinking, her heels sinking into the plush carpet, muffling her steps. She pushed the bathroom door open with one trembling hand.

The first thing she saw was a woman. Blonde. Young. Beautiful in a way that felt like a slap. Someone Addie had never seen before.

The woman straddled Jennings, her fingers trailing down his bare chest. She didn't even notice Addie standing in the doorway.

"Aren't you afraid your fiancée might find out?" the woman purred.

"Addie?" Jennings let out a short, dismissive laugh. "What does it matter if she finds out? Her pathetic little company depends entirely on Hayes Corp's funding. Without me, she'd be bankrupt within a month."

Addie watched, frozen, as Jennings reached up and brushed the woman's hair from her face.

"Besides," he continued, his voice dripping with casual cruelty, "if she had any sense, she'd take the hint and spread her legs for me like you do. But she's too busy playing the untouchable ice queen."

The woman giggled. "Maybe she doesn't know what she's missing."

"Oh, she'll learn." Jennings's hands tightened on the woman's hips. "After the wedding, she won't have a choice."

The shock lasted ten seconds. Exactly ten seconds.

And then a cold, blazing fury surged through Addie's veins, burning away everything else.

She shoved the door open and strode forward. Before Jennings could react, she swung her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"Don't you think you owe me an explanation?" Her voice shook, but her eyes were steel. "Who the hell is this woman?"

The blonde screamed and scrambled for the sheet. Jennings, however, didn't flinch. He rubbed his jaw, then slowly—infuriatingly slowly—reached for his pants and pulled them on.

"Addie." His voice was infuriatingly calm. "What do you want me to say? This is your fault."

"My fault?"

"You're the one who insisted on waiting until the wedding. I'm a normal man. I have needs." He gestured vaguely toward the bed. "This is just a transaction. Money exchanged for physical release. It means nothing. My heart still belongs to you." He spread his hands, as if that explained everything. "Honestly, it's a perfectly fair arrangement. For both of us."

A wave of nausea hit her so hard she tasted bile.

She had given this man three years of her life. Three years. She had defended him when friends said he was too slick, too ambitious, too good to be true. She had believed—stupidly, hopelessly—that he loved her.

"So you feel no guilt at all," she said, her voice dangerously quiet.

Jennings's smile only widened. "Guilt? The person who should feel guilty is you."

"That pathetic little company of yours would have collapsed years ago without my support. And yet you've been parading around like some virtuous saint, refusing to let me touch you. Did you honestly believe your precious virginity was worth tens of millions of dollars?"

He leaned back against the bathroom counter, utterly at ease, not even bothering to hide his contempt. Because he knew—he had always known—that she had no choice. If Addie wanted to save her family's company, she had to marry him.

"Addie, don't make this harder than it needs to be," he said, his tone almost gentle. "The wedding is in two weeks. You're going to marry me regardless. Why embarrass yourself like this?"

Addie's entire body trembled with rage.

She grabbed the glass of water from the bathroom counter and hurled it directly into his face.

"Go to hell!" she spat, sickened by the sight of him.

Her hand flew to her neck. She seized the thin silver chain—the ring still threaded through it—and yanked. The clasp gave way with a sharp snap. She stared at the ring resting in her palm, the diamond glinting under the bathroom lights. Three years she had worn this against her heart. Three years she had believed in what it stood for.

She hurled it at him. The ring bounced off his bare chest and clattered to the tile floor, spinning to a stop at his feet.

"I would rather marry a construction worker off the street than spend one more second with a bastard like you!"

She turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

The moment she stepped out of the Hayes Corp building, a blast of icy wind hit her face, sharp and biting. Only then did she realize her cheeks were wet with tears.

Outside, a construction crew was working on a section of the sidewalk. Blinded by tears and fury, Addie didn't see the uneven pavement. Her heel caught on a crack. Her ankle twisted. She pitched forward, bracing for the brutal impact of concrete.

It never came.

"Careful."

A low voice sounded above her. She clutched the stranger's arm instinctively and looked up.

He was young, wearing a dusty work uniform and a yellow hard hat. His clothes were plain and worn, but beneath the grime, his features were unexpectedly striking—sharp and well-defined, dark eyes, a strong jaw. Even in heavy work boots, he was tall, towering over her.

"Thank you," she managed, still gripping his arm.

She was about to stand when that unbearable voice rang out behind her.

"Addie! Already throwing yourself at someone new?"

Jennings stood in the doorway of the building, water still dripping from his hair, his face twisted into an ugly sneer.

"Well, well. You really are a woman of your word. You found yourself a construction worker!"

The rage Addie had barely contained surged back with a vengeance.

She wiped her tears and straightened up. But instead of letting go of the man's arm, she pulled herself closer, wrapping her arm around his in an intimate, possessive grip.

"Jennings," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Did you actually believe you were the only man in the world? That I'd fall apart without you?"

"You think far too highly of yourself. In my eyes, you are absolutely nothing."

And then, without hesitation, Addie pressed a kiss to the construction worker's cheek.

"You see this?" she announced, loud enough for the entire street to hear. "I would rather marry him—a complete stranger—than spend one more minute with a disgusting, cheating bastard like you!"

She laced her fingers through the stranger's, her grip fierce and unyielding.

"Come on, darling," she declared, turning her back on Jennings. "We're going to City Hall. Right now."

It wasn't until they stood before the imposing bronze doors of City Hall that Addie finally paused to take a good look at the man she had essentially "kidnapped."

He was well over six feet tall, dressed in a dusty gray-blue work uniform, his face still smudged with grime from the construction site. But beneath the dirt, a pair of ink-black eyes regarded her with an unsettling steadiness.

Hurley Slate. It was a good, strong name.

A wave of regret washed over her. "I dragged you here to get married. Why didn't you put up a fight?"

Hurley looked at her with an expression of genuine disbelief. "I'm the victim here, aren't I? You physically pulled me away from my job. I just lost half a month's wages for walking off site without permission. I haven't blamed you for anything, and now you're blaming me?"

Guilt hit Addie immediately. She rifled through her bag, pulled out a thick stack of cash, and pressed it toward him, her voice carrying a note of pleading. "I'll pay you back for the lost wages. Could you please... just go through with this? Marry me?"

Hurley glanced at the money in her hand but made no move to take it.

"Getting married—that was your decision alone. But divorce? That takes two people." His voice was level, but there was an edge beneath it. "I've never even held a girl's hand before. Now, out of nowhere, I'm about to become a divorced man. Who am I supposed to complain to about that?"

What he didn't say aloud was what truly made the situation absurd.

Here he was—the shadow ruler of Chicago's financial underworld, the man behind the Vanguard empire, and he had been spending a few weeks undercover on a construction site, quietly investigating safety violations and substandard materials, only to be ambushed into marriage by a complete stranger.

Of all the things that could have happened during this undercover operation, this was not on the list.

But Addie wasn't listening to his complaints. Her mind was already racing ahead to the consequences of what she had done.

She had torn up her relationship with Jennings in the most public, humiliating way possible. There was no going back. And Jennings, vindictive, controlling Jennings, would absolutely use their broken engagement as a weapon against her. He would twist the story. He would make her the villain. And her parents...

Her stomach tightened. Her parents trusted Jennings completely. Her family's company, Sterling & Associates, had been propped up by Hayes Corp funding for so long that it had become entirely dependent on him. Even if she told them the truth, even if she showed them proof of his infidelity, they might still side with him.

The business came first. It always had.

A marriage certificate. That was her shield. A legal, binding document that would make her completely and irrevocably unavailable.

Jennings couldn't drag her back into a wedding if she was already someone else's wife.

She was still frowning, lost in thought, when the man's voice sounded above her again.

"Still," he said, his tone shifting. "Maybe we can give it a try."

Before she could react, he took her hand in his, his grip warm and calloused and surprisingly gentle, and began leading her up the wide stone steps toward the entrance.

"We're both first-timers at this," he said, a ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Let's figure it out as we go."

Addie stared at their intertwined fingers, then up at his profile. Something about the quiet confidence in his voice made her pulse skip.

After obtaining the marriage certificate, Addie brought Hurley back to her apartment.

She had learned that he'd been sleeping in the construction crew's shared dormitory.

A cramped, noisy space with bunk beds and thin walls. The thought of it hadn't sat right with her. After everything she'd dragged him into, the least she could do was offer him a place to crash for the night.

"Go take a shower," she said as she kicked off her heels by the door, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. "There should be some clean T-shirts in the bathroom. They'll be big enough to fit you."

"Thanks." Hurley disappeared into the bathroom, and soon the sound of running water filled the apartment.

Addie sank onto the sofa, letting her head fall back against the cushions. Her feet ached. Her head throbbed. The events of the day replayed in her mind like a film reel she couldn't stop.

Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen. Laura.

"Addie." Laura's voice was tense but controlled. "Hayes Corp just sent the formal notice. They're freezing all funding, effective immediately. The bridge loan, the credit lines—everything's suspended."

Addie's jaw tightened. The bastard hadn't even waited a full day.

"Then let him do what he wants," she said, her voice clipped. "From this point forward, Hayes Corp and Sterling have no relationship whatsoever. I'll accelerate the search for new investors."

"But without their funding, our active projects will have to pause immediately. A day or two we could manage, but if this drags on..."

"I know." Addie pinched the bridge of her nose. "Give me one week. I'll give the shareholders an answer."

She ended the call and let out a long, slow breath.

One week. Could she find a new investor in one week?

She was still new to this world, new to running a company, new to the brutal politics of Chicago's business circles. She didn't have deep connections. And if Jennings used his influence to blacklist her, Sterling wouldn't stand a chance.

Over the years, Jennings had positioned himself as her company's savior. But the truth was far uglier. His "investment" had slowly, methodically turned Sterling into a subsidiary of Hayes Corp in everything but name. Now, without his funding, the company could barely function on its own.

That was why he had spoken to her with such arrogance. That was why he believed she would come crawling back.

The thought made her blood simmer. She would prove him wrong. Somehow.

Her phone rang again.

This time, the caller ID made her stomach clench. Her father.

She pressed answer. Before she could even get out a greeting, his voice exploded through the speaker.

"Adelaide!" Her father's voice was a thunderclap, even through the tiny speaker. "Look at what you've done! You went to Jennings's hotel and humiliated him in public! And then you were even seen clinging to some construction worker on the street?"

"Dad…"

"Come home tomorrow! I want you to explain yourself to Jennings in person!"

Before Addie could get another word out, the line went dead.

She stared at the phone, her grip tightening around it until her knuckles went white. Jennings had gotten to him first. Of course he had. Spinning his version, twisting the story, making himself the victim.

The bathroom door opened.

Hurley stepped out, a towel slung around his neck. He had pulled on one of her old T-shirts—soft pink, faded, with a ridiculous cartoon duck printed across the front. On him, the fabric was stretched tight across his shoulders and chest, the muscles beneath clearly outlined. The hem rode up just enough to reveal a sliver of his stomach.

Addie took one look at him, the weight of the phone call still sat heavy on her chest. The laughter died before it reached her lips.

"Hurley," she said. "Are you working tomorrow? At the construction site?"

"Do you need me for something?"

She hesitated. She barely knew this man. What she was about to ask felt absurd.

"If you're free tomorrow," she said, "I need to go to my parents' house. To tell them about us. About the marriage."

The corner of his mouth lifted. Not a trace of hesitation.

"No problem."

Addie blinked. She had braced herself for questions, for reluctance, for a negotiation. Instead, he had agreed as easily as if she'd asked him to pass the salt.

"Thank you."

One problem solved. And then, immediately, another presented itself.

Her apartment was designed for one person. One bedroom. The second bedroom had been converted into her home office months ago, filled with whiteboards, monitors, and stacks of paperwork. That left exactly one bed.

They both looked at it at the same time.

"We're married, aren't we?" Hurley said, his voice casual. He settled onto the edge of the bed and patted the mattress beside him, a slow, teasing grin spreading across his face. "Come on. What's there to be shy about? We'll end up sharing a bed eventually."

Heat crawled up Addie's neck, flooding her cheeks, spreading to the tips of her ears. She must have looked like a tomato. A fully ripened, utterly mortified tomato.

And then Hurley laughed.

"Relax." He stood up, still smiling. "I'm not going to do anything. Not without feelings behind it. Not until you actually want me to."

He turned and walked toward the door. "I'll take the sofa. You sleep in here. Properly. With the door closed."

She watched him go, her heart still hammering against her ribs for reasons she didn't want to examine too closely.

The next morning, Addie took Hurley to get a well-fitted suit, then drove toward her childhood home—the place that had never quite felt like home.

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel as the wrought-iron gates came into view.

Whatever was waiting for her behind those gates, she was ready.

She wasn't walking in alone.