DOMINIC'S POV
"Mr. Kane, we need your signature on the Chen acquisition papers before midnight."
I didn't look up from my phone. "Email them to Marcus. I'm leaving."
My assistant's face showed surprise, but she was smart enough not to question me. Good. I'd been at this gala for three hours, shaking hands with people I didn't like, smiling at jokes that weren't funny, pretending I cared about anything except closing this deal.
Chen Technologies would be mine by Monday. Another company added to my empire. Another victory.
So why did it all feel so empty?
"Sir, Miss Chen is looking for you. She said it's urgent."
Celeste Chen. Beautiful, smart, useful. She'd been feeding me inside information about her father's company for months. She wanted a job at Kane Industries after the acquisition. I'd probably give her one. She'd earned it.
"Tell her I'll call tomorrow," I said, already walking toward the exit.
I just wanted to be alone.
The hallway outside the ballroom was blessedly quiet. I loosened my tie, breathing in air that didn't smell like expensive perfume and desperation.
That's when I heard the crash.
A woman stumbled into a waiter twenty feet away. Champagne glasses exploded across the marble floor like stars. She tried to apologize, but her words came out wrong—too slow, too slurred.
Drunk, I thought. Another problem I didn't need.
But then she fell.
I caught her before her head hit the ground. Instinct. Nothing more.
"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I'm so sorry."
She looked up at me, and my breath caught.
Ice-blue eyes. Silver-blonde hair falling out of its simple twist. Delicate features twisted in pain and fear. She was beautiful—not in the calculated way of women at these events, but in a natural, almost fragile way that made something in my chest tighten.
"Easy," I said. "What did you take?"
"I didn't—" Her whole body shook. "My sister. She gave me. I don't know. Please, I need help."
Sister? My mind clicked through possibilities. This must be the other Chen daughter. The one nobody talked about. The one who actually ran the company's tech department while her father took credit.
"You're burning up." I touched her forehead. Fever-hot. Pupils blown wide. Either she was sick, or someone drugged her. "I'm calling security."
"No!" She grabbed my jacket with surprising strength. "Please. Everyone's staring. I just need. Somewhere quiet. Please."
The desperation in her voice hit something buried deep. I knew what it felt like to be helpless. To need help and have nowhere to turn.
I made a choice I'd regret forever.
"My suite is upstairs. You can rest there while I call a doctor."
She nodded, trusting me completely. Stupid. She shouldn't trust anyone, especially not me.
But I lifted her anyway, ignoring the whispers from the people watching. Let them talk. By Monday, I'd own half of them anyway.
The elevator ride lasted a lifetime. She buried her face in my shoulder, shaking harder now.
"What's your name?" I asked, trying to keep her conscious.
"Ava," she whispered. "Ava Chen."
"I'm Dominic Kane."
"I know who you are." Her laugh sounded broken. "You're buying my father's company. Taking everything we built."
Guilt. I felt actual guilt. I never felt guilty about acquisitions. Business was business. But something about the way she said it—so defeated, so alone—made me feel like a monster.
"Your father made bad choices," I said. "I'm just cleaning up the mess."
"He did make bad choices." She looked up at me. "He chose them over me. Every single time."
Before I could ask what she meant, we reached my suite.
I laid her on the couch and grabbed my phone to call the hotel doctor. But she caught my wrist.
"Don't leave," she begged. "Please. I don't want to be alone."
"I'm not leaving. I'm calling for help—"
"I don't need a doctor. I need..." She pulled herself up, swaying. "Everything's on fire. Make it stop. Please make it stop."
That's when I understood. Not fever. Not alcohol.
Someone gave her something designed to make her lose control. An aphrodisiac, probably. Common enough at these events where powerful men looked for "opportunities."
My blood boiled. Who would do this to her?
"I'm calling the police," I said.
"No!" Tears streamed down her face. "You don't understand. My family. If this gets out. I'll lose everything. I already have nothing. Please. Don't make it worse."
She was begging me. This proud woman who built security systems that protected millions of dollars was begging me not to expose what happened to her.
I should have called anyway. Should have done the right thing.
But she pulled me closer, her voice breaking: "I know what's happening to me. I know what I'm asking. Just. Let me choose this time. Let me have control over something. Please."
And God help me, I understood. Someone took her choice away tonight. She wanted it back, even if it was the wrong choice.
"Are you sure?" I asked, even as every instinct screamed at me to walk away.
"Yes," she whispered. "Please. I'm sure."
I kissed her.
It was supposed to be gentle. Controlled. But the drug made her desperate, and something about her broke through every wall I'd built since childhood. She wasn't trying to trap me or use me. She was just a person in pain, looking for someone to make her feel less alone.
I understood that too well.
One night. I'd give her one night where someone made her feel wanted.
Then I'd leave before she woke up. Before this mistake became something more complicated.
Before I had to face what I'd done.
Dawn light crept through the curtains.
Ava slept beside me, silver hair spread across my pillow. Peaceful. Beautiful. The drug had worn off hours ago, but she'd stayed in my arms, like she belonged there.
Dangerous thoughts.
I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her. Grabbed my phone. Seventeen missed calls from Marcus. Five from Celeste Chen.
Celeste.
Something cold settled in my stomach. Celeste knew her sister was at the gala. Celeste brought her champagne. Celeste was the one who suggested I "meet the family" tonight.
No. Surely not.
But the pieces fit too perfectly.
I looked back at Ava. So trusting. So broken. If Celeste set this up—if this was some scheme to trap me or manipulate the acquisition—then I just played right into it.
I'd built my empire by never being vulnerable. By never letting anyone close enough to hurt me. I watched my father nearly lose everything because he loved my mother too much. Loved her so much that when she betrayed him with his business partner, it almost destroyed him.
"Love makes you weak," Dad told me before he died. "Never forget that."
I hadn't. Until tonight.
I scribbled a note—"I'm sorry"—and left it on the nightstand. Coward's way out, but I couldn't face her. Couldn't risk whatever manipulation was coming next.
I grabbed my clothes and walked out of my own hotel suite.
In the elevator, my phone buzzed. Text from Celeste: "How was your evening? Heard you left early with my sister. Hope she's feeling better."
The emoji made my skin crawl.
She knew. She absolutely knew.
Another text: "We should talk. About the acquisition. About family. About what's best for everyone."
Threat. That was a threat wrapped in pleasant words.
I'd walked right into a trap, and I'd dragged an innocent woman down with me.
No. Not innocent. Nobody was innocent. Ava probably planned this with her sister. The stammering, the fear, the begging—probably all an act. They drugged her just enough to make it believable, then sent her stumbling into my path.
Classic honey trap.
My jaw clenched. I'd almost fallen for it. Almost believed someone could want me without wanting something from me.
Stupid. I was so stupid.
By the time I reached my car, I'd convinced myself Ava Chen was just another schemer. Another woman trying to use me.
I'd make sure she never got the chance.
What I didn't know—what I wouldn't learn until it was too late—was that three weeks later, Ava Chen would walk into my office with proof that I was wrong about everything.
And by then, I'd already destroyed any chance we might have had.
The real trap wasn't the one I thought I walked into that night.
It was the one I built myself.