Deal With The Devilish Wall Street Tycoon

Ami Cleveland's eyes snapped open.

The ceiling of the presidential suite spun in slow, sickening circles.

A vicious headache pounded behind her temples. She pressed the heels of her hands hard against her forehead, groaning as the pain pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

She took a shallow breath, and her stomach dropped. The expensive silk sheets beneath her smelled like cold, sharp men's cologne. It was a scent of cedar and expensive tobacco, and it did not belong to her.

A wave of pure panic crashed into her chest. She threw back the heavy duvet and looked down. She was completely naked.

Her breath caught in her throat. She scrambled backward against the headboard, her hands shaking as she pulled the thick blanket up, clutching it tightly against her bare chest.

Her wide eyes darted around the dim room. She tried to force her brain to work, trying to piece together the scattered fragments of last night's celebration party. Everything was a blur of champagne glasses and flashing lights. She vaguely remembered sneaking into this particular celebration because she had heard a rumor that Jerad Kidd, the elusive Wall Street titan, was staying in the presidential suite of this exact hotel. He was the only hope left to save her family.

Then, she saw it. Her custom-made evening gown, the one that cost more than most people made in a year, was torn down the side. It lay discarded on the dark velvet sofa across the room like a piece of trash.

Her legs felt weak, trembling from the wildness of a night she couldn't even remember. She pushed herself off the bed, her bare feet hitting the freezing dark marble floor. The cold shot up her spine.

She walked over and bent down to pick up the ruined dress. As she lifted the heavy fabric, a solid metal object slipped from the folds and hit the marble with a sharp clink.

Ami froze. She looked down. It was a custom platinum cufflink, heavy and expensive, engraved with a complex family crest. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she had no time to study it.

The sudden, harsh vibration of her phone on the nightstand shattered the dead silence of the room.

She jumped, dropping the dress. She rushed to the bed and grabbed the phone. The screen flashed with the name Sterling-her mother Else Odom's chief legal counsel.

She pressed the answer button, her fingers slick with cold sweat.

"Ami, where are you?" Sterling's voice was frantic, breathless. "The FBI is at the headquarters. They are freezing all the company accounts. Everything is gone."

Ami's face went completely white. The blood drained from her head so fast she swayed on her feet. The brutal reality of her family's impending bankruptcy ripped her out of the panic of losing her virginity to a stranger.

"I... I'll fix this," she whispered, her throat tight.

She hung up the phone. Her hands moved on autopilot. She grabbed the platinum cufflink and shoved it deep into her designer clutch. She decided right then to bury the absurdity of last night forever. She had bigger problems now.

She ran into the massive bathroom and turned on the faucet. She splashed freezing water onto her cheeks, slapping her own skin to force herself awake.

She gripped the edges of the marble sink and stared at her pale, exhausted reflection in the mirror.

"Get it together," she told herself. She swore to herself that today, she had to corner that mysterious Wall Street billionaire, Jerad Kidd, in the lobby. He was her only way out.

She rushed back into the room and clumsily pulled on the torn dress. She grabbed her long trench coat and wrapped it tightly around her body, tying the belt hard to hide the ripped fabric.

She pushed open the heavy wooden door of the suite and stepped into the quiet hallway, walking so fast she was almost running.

As the elevator descended, her chest felt tight. She nervously chewed on her lower lip, silently repeating the pitching speech she had prepared for the billionaire.

The elevator doors slid open at the ground floor. The blinding morning sunlight and the loud noise of the busy lobby hit her face.

She stepped out, her eyes scanning the luxurious seating area. She was looking for any group of men in suits that looked like a top-tier billionaire's entourage.

Suddenly, a crisp voice called out from behind her right shoulder.

"Professor Cleveland?"

Ami's entire body went stiff. Her stomach tied into a knot. She turned her head slowly and saw Tobias Mercer, one of her students from New York University. He was staring at her with wide, surprised eyes.

Tobias took a step closer. His eyes scanned her messy hair and the edge of the evening gown peeking out from under her coat at nine in the morning.

Ami felt a hot flush of shame burn her neck. To maintain her dignity as a professor, she panicked. She quickly lowered her head and brought her clutch up to cover the side of her face.

"Tobias. I... I'm just here to meet a friend," she stuttered, her voice shaking. She didn't wait for his reply. She turned her back to him and walked quickly toward the revolving glass doors.

Just as she kept her head down, rushing to escape, a group of men in sharp black suits walked through the main entrance. They were bodyguards, surrounding a tall man in the center.

To avoid Tobias seeing her face, Ami stepped sideways to make room. As she did, her shoulder brushed hard against the custom-tailored suit of the tall man in the middle of the group.

"Sorry," she mumbled to the floor, not stopping.

"Keep moving. The Boss has a meeting," Frank Baxter, the executive assistant, ordered the guards.

The tall man stopped walking. He turned his head slightly. His deep, dark eyes locked onto Ami's back as she scrambled away in a panic. The corner of his mouth lifted into a cold, barely visible smirk.