The city smelled like betrayal.
Liana stood at the edge of the marble lobby, her suitcase gripped tight in her trembling hand. The heels of her boots echoed through the cold silence as she looked up at the chandelier that sparkled like shattered glass - elegant, beautiful... dangerous. Just like him.
Her heart pounded. Not from fear. From fury.
From memories. From the way her skin still remembered his voice like it was whispered against her throat.
Ares Velen.
The man who destroyed her family.
Two years ago, she had watched everything collapse — their home, their wealth, her father's name, her mother's mind. And behind it all... stood that man, with ice in his eyes and blood on his tongue.
And now, because fate was cruel and money was crueler, she was back. In his city. In the building he owned. Working in a company he ruled.
Because grief doesn't feed you. And dignity doesn't pay rent.
She hated him.
She hated the way her skin prickled every time someone said his name. She hated that his face still burned in her dreams.
She hated that she remembered the way he looked at her the last time they met.
Like she was a secret he hadn't finished unwrapping.
"Miss Liana?" A voice startled her from her thoughts. "He's expecting you."
Her breath caught.
She hadn't thought it would be this soon.
She thought she had time before she'd see him again.
The assistant didn't wait for a reply. She led Liana past tinted glass walls, deeper into a place that smelled like power - rich cologne, leather, ink, and something darker.
And then the doors opened.
He was standing by the window.
Back turned. Suit sharp. Shoulders wide. That infamous scar cutting just below his right ear.
She couldn't breathe.
He turned slowly, as if he already knew she was watching him.
And then... there he was.
Ares.
His eyes swept over her like a command. Not a greeting. Not a welcome. A silent, devastating possession.
"You came," he said, voice low and rough, like gravel under silk.
"You own the building," she answered, eyes hard.
"I didn't have a choice."
He walked toward her slowly. Not fast. Not urgent. Like he had all the time in the world - like he owned time itself.
"Everyone has a choice, Liana," he murmured.
"You chose to come back. To me."
"To the job," she snapped.
"To me," he repeated, stepping into her space, close enough to touch.
She didn't move. She wouldn't flinch.
But her body betrayed her. Her chest rose too fast. Her fingers clenched too tight. She could feel the heat between them - thick, electric, suffocating.
He leaned closer, his mouth just above her ear.
"You still hate me?" he whispered.
She shivered. "Yes."
His breath was warm. "Good."
He pulled back, but not far.
"I don't want your love, Liana. I want your resistance. I want your hate. I want you to fight me."
She stared at him.
"I want to destroy what's left of you," he said softly, almost lovingly. "Until there's nothing but me."
Her knees almost buckled.
This wasn't lust. It wasn't even love. It was something darker. Twisted. Obsessive.