The moment Juliette Weaver walked into the police station, she spotted Gunner Bryant standing by her mother, Paulina.

After what went down the night before, the last thing Juliette felt for the man she'd once adored was affection.

"Juliette! There you are!" Gunner called out once he saw her at the entrance.

He stood up, smooth as ever, that charming smile permanently plastered on his face—the kind that could melt even the iciest of hearts.

"Juliette, if it wasn't for Gunner, I never would've gotten to see your father," Paulina said, tears streaming down her face no matter how hard she tried to stop them.

Gunner offered her reassurance. "Auntie, don't be like that. It's the least I could do—after all, I'm Juliette's boyfriend!"

The word "boyfriend" hit Juliette like a punch to the gut.

She watched Gunner's phony performance, her fists balling up with rage.

Gunner came up behind her, letting his hand settle on her shoulder in a show of support. "Don't worry. I'll handle your father's situation. Auntie's been stressed all morning—I'll have someone take her home so she can rest."

Juliette struggled to hold it together. Turning to her mother, she said, "Mom, go home and get some rest, okay?"

"Alright. With Gunner here, I can breathe a little easier," Paulina said, lowering her voice as she reminded Juliette, "You know Gunner's the heir to the Bryant fortune now—the future chairman. He's sticking by you despite all that. Don't let this chance slip through your fingers."

Once Paulina had been driven off in the car Gunner arranged, he said, "Juliette, let's head back to the office."

He didn't mention a single thing about the night before. Acting as if nothing had happened, he opened the car door and handed her a breakfast sandwich.

Juliette couldn't keep the act up any longer. "Cut the crap, Gunner. What do you take me for?"

Gunner smirked as he drove. "My girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? Do you actually mean that? You handed me over to that older man last night. Is that what a boyfriend does?"

Gunner answered, cool as ever, "Didn't you say you'd do anything for my career?"

Juliette's gaze turned to ice, her trembling frame radiating fury.

"Juliette, you lost your innocence five years ago. One more night with somebody isn't going to change a thing. When I go public, I won't forget what you've done for me."

Smack!

Juliette's palm cracked across Gunner's face. She remembered borrowing money for him, suffering through a brutal assault—and now he was using it as an excuse to degrade her.

His cheek still stinging red, Gunner threw a file at her, pissed. "Juliette, if you don't want your father rotting in jail, you'll entertain some guests tonight!"

This time, Gunner didn't even bother hiding his true colors.

"My uncle just got back. Christopher Bryant—a major player on the international scene. Whether I go public depends on him. If you don't serve him well, just imagine what'll happen to your father."

With that, Gunner got out of the car, slamming the door shut.

Juliette's heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. Tears she couldn't hold back streamed down her face.

Five years of devotion. And it meant nothing.

Her phone buzzed, yanking her out of her despair. A text from a number she didn't recognize: "Ms. Weaver, you left in such a hurry this morning. Did you forget your underwear?"

The words were teasing, downright provocative.

Thinking of the man from the night before, she texted back, "I don't need them. Throw them out!"

Nearby, a sleek car was idling in the company parking lot.

In the backseat, Christopher Bryant watched Juliette climb out of her vehicle. He replied, "Since you don't need them, I'll just hang them outside your company's entrance."

Juliette Weaver was on edge. "Where are you?" she asked, scanning her surroundings but spotting no sign of Christopher Bryant.

"Turn around!" His reply was quick and sharp.

Startled, she spun to see the sleek Porsche Cayenne's headlights cutting through the dark driveway. If you didn't know any better, you'd swear he was some kind of old-money aristocrat, not the smooth-talking gentleman escort he claimed to be.

Juliette rushed to the window and tapped it. It rolled down, revealing Christopher in a tailored charcoal-gray suit and crisp white shirt, his platinum camellia cufflinks lending a touch of icy sophistication.

"Hand it over!" she demanded, reaching out, fury in her eyes.

Christopher studied her tear-streaked face and red-rimmed eyes. He reached out, cupping her cheek gently. "You've been crying?

Juliette shoved his hand away. "That's none of your business!"

"We're together, and you think it's none of my business?" Christopher chuckled softly. He pulled open the car door and drew her in with one firm tug.

"What are you doing? Let me go..." Her protest was cut short by a silky voice from the backseat.

"Mr. Bryant, you were so intense last night~," purred the new intern, Colette Ford, as she wrapped herself around Gunner's arm, nuzzling him playfully.

Gunner stroked her waist, reeling her close. "Didn't I tell you? You're my favorite. Of course I'd be gentle."

"You're such a tease!" she giggled, lacing her fingers through his, flirtatious as ever.

The sight made Juliette's eyes blaze with a mix of rage and humiliation. She clutched Christopher's hand, her nails digging into his skin in sheer frustration.

Christopher caught the angry red marks she was leaving, his expression darkening. He pinned his stare on the man outside the car."Don’t tell me you like him."

"Absolutely not!" Juliette shot back, defiant.

"Is that so?" He arched a brow, a smug smirk curling his lips.

He yanked her closer, pressing her against the window. Through the glass, she found herself face-to-face with Gunner outside.

Her whole body went rigid, hyperaware of Christopher behind her. "What are you doing?"

Juliette's breath hitched, especially when she saw Gunner stepping nearer.

Taking in her discomfort, Christopher playfully hiked her dress up a little higher. The already short skirt rode up, exposing way more than she was comfortable with.

"No panties, Ms. Weaver? Were you hoping I'd take care of that?" he teased.

"Show some professionalism, please! I'm not paying for your services today," she hissed, totally mortified.

Gunner drew closer to the window, and Juliette's compromising position made her feel utterly exposed.

The car rocked faintly from their movements inside.

Colette noticed Gunner's attention fixed on the car. "What are you staring at?"

Gunner said, "Don't remember seeing this car before."

Eager to reel him back, Colette offered, "If you like it, maybe I can ask my dad."

As the heiress to a jewelry empire, Colette had more money than she knew what to do with. She was only interning at Universe Inc. because she had a thing for Gunner.

Gunner smirked at her offer and pulled her closer.

Right then, Juliette felt something soft beneath her. Her discomfort melted into surprise when she realized she was wearing something totally unexpected—boxers!

"Why boxers?" she wondered aloud.

Christopher lifted a brow. "I was in a rush. My assistant could only grab a pair of men's boxers."

"So, these are yours?" she asked, glancing sideways.

Christopher Bryant tossed out casually, "These are brand new."

Juliette Weaver eyed the black leggings that fit her like they were made for her. "How much? I'll send you the money."

"Forty-five hundred," he replied, a smug air clinging to his words.

Juliette hesitated, utterly confused.

"What, can't afford it?" Christopher grinned at her, all taunt. "All that talk about money, and you can't even pay up?"

Juliette felt her face flame with embarrassment. It was the first time someone she considered beneath her had made her feel this small.

"You've got to be kidding me!" She didn't believe him, so she whipped out her phone and looked it up. Sure enough, they were forty-five hundred bucks.

Could guys like him really throw around this kind of cash?

"If you can't pay, maybe we can work out another arrangement," Christopher joked, giving her waistband a light tug. "I'm quite a fan of that."

Juliette clenched her jaw in frustration, just as a notification popped up on her phone—a refund of a thousand dollars. "Keep it, and buy some cheaper ones. I like tearing those off you," Christopher chuckled.

"You!" Juliette fumed, the word barely out before Christopher's phone rang.

She saw the caller ID: Gunner Bryant!

What on earth was Gunner's connection to Christopher?

Seizing the moment as Christopher took the call, she leaned in to eavesdrop.

Gunner's respectful voice filtered through, "I've had the suspect arrested. Could we meet tonight if you're available...?"

Before Juliette could catch another word, Christopher snagged her. His strong hand tilted her chin up, pulling her face to his. He kissed her deep and demanding, leaving zero room for protest.

"Mm~" Juliette couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her, robbed of breath by the force of his kiss.

As he wrapped her in his embrace, she shoved at his shoulders, desperate to break free.

"No~ stop!"

Over the phone, Gunner seemed to pick up on something. "Hey! Who's that...?" he asked, unease creeping into his voice.

Before he could finish, Christopher ended the call with a sharp click.

In his office, Gunner stared at the blank screen, those soft sounds still echoing in his skull—and they chilled him straight to the bone, because they reminded him way too much of Juliette.

He glanced toward the administration office, but Juliette's desk stayed empty. Ever since she came back, she hadn't shown up to work.

A heavy unease settled over him like a weight as he dialed her number.

"Where are you?" he demanded the instant she picked up, the memory of that arrest still fresh in her mind.

"What do you want?"

"Juliette, are you still pissed at me?" Gunner's voice dropped from its earlier chill to a plea. "I know I was way out of line this morning—total screw-up on my part. The company's going public, and the stress is eating me alive. Sometimes I say crap I don't mean. Please, let's just drop the anger, okay?"

That relentless persistence—it had always been Gunner's go-to move with Juliette, and the one she could never fully resist.

He needed her to link up with Christopher Bryant, that mysterious uncle from the Bryant family—a ghost almost, rarely seen or whispered about in public, his very existence wrapped in shadow. The world only knew his loyal right hand, Everlee Richardson. To claw his way up the social ladder, Gunner had to meet Christopher, and more than that, score his endorsement so he could slide seamlessly into the Bryant bloodline. He was dying for a ticket to the capital's elite circles and access to the city's finest privileges.

Word on the street was Christopher was back to hunt down a woman, though the details were thin—just a partial photo of a slender figure in a simple Victorian-style dress and a red bracelet. Gunner remembered Juliette wearing a bracelet just like that, and he figured it was worth rolling the dice. In his eyes, she was already damaged goods anyway. If he pegged the right woman, success was basically in his pocket.

Steeled with that thought, Gunner's coaxing kicked up a notch. "Sweetheart, don't be mad! I'll get the best lawyer to bust your dad out. Sound good?"

"Worried I won't play along with the Bryant family's elder, Uncle Christopher, tonight?" Juliette saw right through his slimy game.

The file he had handed her that morning painted Christopher as a frail, unbearable old man—ugly and volatile, even if he was her dad's age.

"This is the last time, Juliette! Plus, you bailed on Mr. Dexter last go-round, and my proposal got shot down. I'm literally begging you—turn on the charm for Uncle Christopher this time!"

Gunner's desperation hung thick in the air, and Juliette finally clocked her true worth in his eyes—nothing more than another pawn in his never-ending thirst for power.