The rain fell relentlessly against the glass of Gina Blake's tiny apartment, drumming a harsh rhythm against her nerves. Three missed calls. Two unpaid bills. One final warning email. Her life was spiraling, and she had no safety net.
She stared at her phone, fingers trembling. Rent was due in two days. Photography gigs had dried up. Baking orders barely covered the basics. Desperate didn't even begin to describe it.
"Get it together, Gina…" she whispered, pulling her coat tighter around herself. Tonight was her last shot—a high-end gala she wasn't even supposed to attend. But desperate times didn't care about rules.
The ballroom of the Knight Foundation gala was everything Gina wasn't: glittering, opulent, and full of people who never knew struggle. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light over women in designer gowns and men in tailored suits laughing over champagne.
Gina kept her head low, snapping photos quickly and quietly. She didn't belong here—but she needed this job. Every shutter click made her heart race.
"Watch it."
The voice cut through the music.
She bumped into a broad chest, her camera nearly slipping.
"I'm so—"
Her words died when she looked up.
Alexander Knight.
Tall, dark, impossibly commanding. Eyes that didn't just see her—they measured her, decided if she mattered.
"You don't belong here," he said, voice calm, precise, like stating an undeniable fact.
Gina straightened, forcing confidence. "I'm working."
His eyes flicked to her camera, then back to her face. A slow, deliberate smirk touched his lips—but it wasn't kind.
"And who hired you?"
Silence. That was all the answer he needed.
"Interesting," he murmured, stepping closer, the scent of expensive cologne trailing him.
Her heartbeat accelerated. "Look, I'll just—"
"Wait."
One word. Controlled. Unavoidable.
"How much do you need?"
Gina blinked. "What?"
"Money," he said simply. "You're desperate."
She couldn't deny it. "I don't—"
"Don't lie." His voice softened slightly, but the edge of command was still there. "I make deals."
He pulled a sleek black card from his pocket, holding it out to her.
"Come see me tomorrow," he said. "If you're still desperate."
Her fingers hovered over the card. She shouldn't take it. Everything about him screamed danger. But… she did.
Alexander Knight didn't watch most people. They bored him. Predictable. Replaceable.
Her?
She was different.
"If she accepts my deal…" he muttered, eyes darkening, "she won't just be working for me. She'll belong to me."