“Sure thing, Mr. Kennedy,” Mario Wallace replied, scribbling the phone number into his notebook before pulling the office door shut. He made damn sure no one—not even that nosy, relentless Hannah—would burst in and disturb Everest Kennedy.

Everest caught sight of the black garbage bag Mario clutched, jarringly out of place against his perfectly tailored suit. With a dry, sarcastic quip, he joked, “What’s this? A new designer bag made from actual trash? That the hot new trend these days?”

Mario’s face flushed crimson, words tumbling over each other. “Mr. Kennedy, this garbage bag is actually—” He hesitated, clearing his throat. “It’s something I picked up next to the trash bin on our floor. These… these are your things, sir.”

He pulled the bag open to reveal Everest’s toothbrush, toothpaste, casual clothes—shirts, a sweater, a coat, all things Annika Price had bought him. Hell, there were even a few unopened boxes of condoms at the bottom.

Everest’s eyes went dark, his jaw clenching so hard his molars ached. “What the hell is this? Why are all my things in the trash?”

It clicked before Mario could even open his mouth. “She really threw all my stuff out?”

It wasn’t just his belongings she’d tossed. She’d scrubbed him right out of her life. A cold, sharp disdain flickered across Everest’s face. “Fine. She gets what she wants. We’re done. None of this shit matters anymore.”

Mario asked quietly, “Mr. Kennedy, what would you like me to do with all this?”

Everest tossed aside his expensive silk pajama top and pulled a dress shirt on in one smooth motion. Within seconds, he was immaculately dressed, that signature aura of authority and power rolling off him in waves.

“There’s no space in this world for a washed-up Everest Kennedy. Don’t come sniveling to me later if you mess it up.”

The hotel manager stepped in with a lavish spread of breakfast, only to be met with Everest’s sharp, biting criticism. “We host A-list, influential guests here, and this is the best you can do? A chef on a million-dollar salary can’t even cook half as good as my wife?”

Mario muttered under his breath, “Mr. Kennedy’s just being stubborn. Still calls her ‘wife’ even after they split.”

The manager was one wrong move away from tears. How could this go wrong? The chef was a world-renowned talent, poached from one of the most elite restaurants in Europe. The whole team had been prepping since four a.m. the second they heard it was for Mr. Kennedy.

He ventured gently, “Mr. Kennedy, maybe you’re just used to Mrs. Kennedy’s cooking, right? It’s your personal favorite.”

Everest’s spoon hung frozen over his plate, no appetite left at all. His mind drifted unbidden back to the memory of Annika pressing a thermos into his hands every single morning.

*“Everest, drink this while it’s still warm at the office. I added extra chicken and rice to the soup this time—it’s so good.”*

She’d picked out the best chicken from the local market, seasoned it slow, prepped it by hand. It wasn’t cheap, so she’d only bought enough for him.

Everest tried to shake the memory loose, his sharp handsome features clouding over. Why was he even pretending this didn’t get to him?

He told the manager to have the chef make something light on the stomach, reminded his secretary to bug him about taking his medication, and called the doctor in for a new prescription of something to take the edge off. At the end of the day, the world doesn’t stop spinning for anyone.

Break things off with one Annika Price? There were a hundred other women waiting in line. No big deal.

Mario reported in, “Mr. Kennedy, the international corp looking to expand domestically—Mr. Shaw just got back into town and wants to meet tonight to hash it out. They’re dying to lock in a partnership with Kennedy Enterprises.”

Everest glanced indifferently at his dead-silent phone, and tossed off the order casually: “Have Sixth Brother handle it.”

Mario blinked in surprise. Everest, the biggest workaholic this side of the country, was checking out? All because of Annika? Waiting around for her to call and beg to make up? Yeah, that didn’t sound like him.

He worked up the nerve to speak up: “Mr. Kennedy, Annika put her whole life on hold for you for three whole years, and you took such good care of her. How can it end like this? Sometimes a little fight’s just her way of getting you to pay attention. Maybe you should pick up some flowers or a nice gift to cheer her up. Women love that stuff, right?”

Everest didn’t answer. He just flipped his phone face-down on the table, like he was refusing to let it hold any more of his attention.

A couple minutes later, he asked, “What’d she do today?”

“Mrs. Kennedy got dressed up sharp and headed out. Looked like she was going to a job interview.”

Everest’s expression hardened instantly. “Who asked about her? I was asking what Selena’s up to today.”

Mario awkwardly bit his tongue. He knew damn well Everest meant Annika, but he played along anyway. “Miss Selena’s probably still sleeping off her jet lag from the trip, sir.”

“Tell the office to make arrangements,” Everest ordered, heading back toward his private room. He left Mario standing there, scratching his head over the mess.

Arrangements for what? Reschedule the meeting with Mr. Shaw for tonight? Or send Annika a gift to win her back? Oh jeez, Mr. Kennedy is impossible to read right now.

Mario had always prided himself on knowing exactly what Everest wanted, never having to ask clarifying questions. But this? This was pushing him to his limit.

He decided to cover all his bases, prep for both. After all, Everest hadn’t gotten Annika a single proper gift in three whole years. She’d probably be over the moon to get flowers from him.

This wasn’t just some fling that could get brushed off. And of course, that billion-dollar project still needed to be handled too.

Mario didn’t waste any time dialing Annika’s number…

As Everest neared the elevator, his phone rang out of the blue. He paused, turned back toward the room, just in time to hear Mario faking a florist’s voice over the line.

“Hello, Miss Price? This is Rose & Bloom Floral. Mr. Kennedy ordered a gorgeous bouquet for you. Are you available right now? Where would you like us to deliver it?”

Everest hesitated, his hand still hovering over the elevator call button. He leaned back against the doorframe, holding his breath, desperate to hear what Annika would say back.

Mario Wallace froze, completely caught off guard. Annika Price was even more shocked. Annika had always bent over backwards to accommodate everyone before. So why wasn’t Everest Kennedy’s gift enough to win her over this time?

To Mario’s utter surprise, Annika was a totally different woman right now. The second she found out the flowers were from Everest, not a flicker of joy crossed her face. Her refusal was clear-cut, straight to the point, no room left for anyone to misread her.

"Please give these flowers to someone else. I don’t want them here."

Mario was almost too shocked to speak. He’d never expected Annika to react this coldly. Just sending flowers probably wasn’t enough to win her over, he figured. Panicked to smooth things over, he rushed to add, "Annika, there’s an expensive gold necklace in the bouquet—worth over twenty grand. Mr. Kennedy sent it specifically for you."

Even that didn’t shake her. To his disbelief, she stood firm. "Send the necklace back to him. He can sell it. I’d rather put that twenty grand toward the five-hundred-thousand-dollar debt I owe him."

"What? Sell it for twenty grand to pay off a debt? What five-hundred-thousand-dollar debt? I’m sorry, I don’t get it," Mario stammered, completely thrown off by this random debt he’d never heard a word about.

"Annika, this is just Mr. Kennedy showing he cares. Selling it is kind of… too much…" Mario’s words cut off mid-sentence when he heard the cold, sharp beep of the call ending.

Annika’s mind was made up, solid as concrete.

"Finally got sick of tiptoeing around, huh?"

A deep, familiar voice rumbled from the doorway. Mario nearly dropped his phone in shock when Everest Kennedy stepped into view. He stood tall, backlit, his long shadow stretching all the way across the room.

An intimidating aura clung to him, his whole demeanor ice-cold. Mario already regretted making that call so recklessly.

Everest had overheard every word of his conversation with Annika, and he was clearly pissed—Mario couldn’t miss that. He fumbled for an explanation immediately. "Mr. Kennedy, I think she realized the gift wasn’t from you personally, that’s why she turned it down."

Everest’s jaw was set hard as he walked into the room, grabbed his phone off the coffee table, and walked out without another word. As he neared the elevators, he couldn’t help but overhear Hannah gossiping on her call.

"What? You landed a PR spot for that project meeting? If it goes well, there’s a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus? That’s way easier money than dancing at that rooftop club, for sure. You have to take it!"

Everest’s eyes darkened just a shade. He knew these PR gigs weren’t ever the easy walk in the park people pretended they were. Showing up to fancy parties was just the start—things got way messier, way higher-stakes than that. No smart businessman would drop fifty grand just for some girl to sit in on a project discussion, not when the whole thing smelled this fishy.

Everest didn’t stick his nose in any further and stepped onto the elevator. His mind drifted back to Annika—so dead-set on clawing her way out of her money problems, maybe even out of this whole dead-end life of hers, by any means necessary.

But Annika had already taken the job. She’d expected stuffy conference rooms and formal project proposals, not… this. The second she stepped into the private suite with Hugo Jameson, she already regretted saying yes.

Inside, a handful of men lounged around without a care, the same sick, sleazy debauchery she’d seen before playing out right in front of her. Some were canoodling with their dates, feeding each other grapes mouth-to-mouth. Others were doing even more vulgar things.

They were predators, nothing more, nothing less.

They pretended not to know who she was, and loud, leering whistles rang out.

"Whoa, fresh meat! C’mere closer so we can get a good look," one of them teased.

"Hugo’s new PR girl really is something, huh? Even dressed that frumpy, she’s easy on the eyes," another chimed in.

"C’mon, lose the jacket! Don’t be a party pooper!" they jeered.

One guy snuck a photo of Annika and dropped it into their group chat—their little digital hangout for gossip and dirty schemes—making sure to tag Everest and Selena.

[Mr. Kennedy, you’re not gonna believe this. The prey walked right into our trap. Annika showed up with Hugo tonight. Time to have some fun!]

[Showtime, baby. Once we’ve had our fill, our hero can come swooping in to save the day. Classic move.]

[Our guy’s got all the charm in the world. He’ll pretend he fell head over heels the second he saw her, get her hooked good, then dump her like last week’s trash. Never fails, right?]

[Mr. Kennedy, Selena—y’all aren’t gonna join us to get payback for our girl Selena?]

Selena typed back instantly: [I’m in! Wait up, guys!]

Annika’s dignity was just waiting to be trampled into the dirt, bruised and broken for their sick, malicious entertainment. Fearing Everest might step in and ruin their plan, Selena added a sneaky little line, tagging him again:

[Brother, I know you’re swamped with work. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just let my team handle this. Promise we won’t cross any lines.]

Selena hurried in, practically bouncing with excitement. She couldn’t wait to watch Everest’s crew take Annika down. What she didn’t expect, when she stepped through the door, was Everest himself walking in right behind her, cold fury rolling off him in waves.

"Big brother, what are you doing here? You’re late—I was gonna get to have some fun first," Selena chirped, plastering on her sweetest innocent smile while seething internally. What made Annika so damn special? Everest would ditch a billion-dollar deal just to rush over here the second her name was involved?

Selena clung to one hope: by the time Everest pushed through that door, Annika would already be ruined. The truth was, Annika wasn’t hurt… yet. But Zeke and his goons had her cornered, blocking every exit. Two more brutes stood guard outside, just to make sure she couldn’t slip out.

Mario, clueless about the messy history tangled up between all of them, tried to talk Annika down soft. "Look, Annika, just play along for now. You help me out here, I swear I’ll return the favor first chance I get."

A cold dread settled in Annika’s bones. Something really bad was coming. This wasn’t just some messy party she’d walk away from without a scratch. Sure enough, the rich brats started their garbage before long.

"Hey Mario, isn’t your PR girl just standing there doing nothing? Shouldn’t she be pouring us coffee? She’s just glued to the spot like a damn statue. C’mon—make her chug three cups first."

Annika’s jaw tightened. "I don’t drink coffee."

"Why the hell not? If you can’t even handle that, what good are you as a party hostess?" they jeered.

"Fine, but you better have a damn good excuse," one challenged. "If it’s convincing enough, maybe we’ll let you slide."

Annika stepped back, her mind spinning. Could she say she was pregnant? But if that rumor got out, Everest would drag her straight to a clinic to get an abortion before the day ended. Why he hated the idea of her having a kid so much was still a mystery, but every instinct screamed that admitting it was way too risky.

While Annika was stuck turning that over in her head, Mario jumped in smooth. "C’mon guys, Annika’s not feeling great tonight, let’s go easy on her. I’ll drink the coffee for her."

The heirs wouldn’t budge. "Mario, don’t let that innocent act fool you. You got paid to make sure she entertains us, so why the hell is she skipping out on her job?"

"Yeah, if we let this slide, every girl here will start doing it. Next thing we know we’ll be out of drinks and out of fun."

Annika knew there was no way out this time. Not with those bodyguards blocking the door. She set her jaw, picked up the coffee cup, and kept her tone as polite as she could manage. "Gentlemen, it’s true I misunderstood what this job needed when I took it. I’m sorry, so I’ll drink to make up for it. I’m not feeling well tonight, so I’ll only have one. And don’t worry—Mario doesn’t have to pay me for this gig. This is just me asking for your understanding."

With that, she lifted the cup to her lips.

"Hold up," one of the heirs cut in. "Drinking’s not that simple. Do it right."

He waved over the woman next to him to show how it was done. She poured wine into her own mouth, then sank down onto his lap, and let the wine trickle from her lips straight into his, ending with a sloppy, heated kiss.

Annika’s breath caught. This wasn’t just drinking. This was straight out of some sick, hedonistic nightmare.

The rest of them whooped and clapped. "C’mon, give it a go! Pick any guy you want, just do it. We’ll go easy on you, promise."

Annika squeezed her cup so tight her knuckles blanched. If she wanted to leave this room with even a scrap of her dignity left, she had to play their game.

"Excuse me," she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could. "Which one of you is heading the project I’m working on?"

"Smart girl," one heir snorted, nodding at Zeke. "Old Six here runs the whole thing."

Annika had guessed that right. Zeke was the only one without a girl hanging off his arm, and that cold, polished air he carried made him feel untouchable.

She walked over to him, already knowing he held the biggest grudge against her. She didn’t know why he’d gotten tangled up in this, but she knew what was on the line. She handed him the project proposal, dipping her head slightly. "Mr. Zeke, would you mind looking this over first? If anything’s wrong, I’ll follow your rules to the letter. I’ll drink whatever you want, and if you sign off on this, we can call it done."

Zeke took the proposal, his expression going serious for a minute as he scanned it. Then he gestured to Mario. "Proposal’s solid. I’ll sign. You know this, Mario—we got this deal because of Everest’s pull. Billion-dollar revenue? This kind of collaboration doesn’t come around every day."

As Zeke explained it, it clicked for Mario: Everest’s influence was the hidden force holding the whole coalition together, even if it looked independent on paper. They never lost, and Mario had come here specifically to network through this high-stakes project.

Before Mario could say a word, Annika lifted her cup. She had to drink to get out of this room. There was no other way.

So she’d drink. She could handle whatever came after. Right now, she just had to hold up her end of the deal. But just as she was about to tip the cup back, Zeke nodded at one of the other heirs.

"Hold up. You gonna drink with that coat still on? That doesn’t count. Take it off first."

The heirs started jeering, egging her on. "Take it off! C’mon, hurry up!"

Without a second of hesitation, Annika shrugged off her beige trench coat. The whole room went dead quiet. She wasn’t wearing anything provocative—just a plain white tee and jeans. It was totally modest, a stark contrast to every other woman in the room.

Her simple, unflashy look hooked the men’s attention, and it accidentally highlighted how sleazy their usual company really was. For a second, most of their interest fizzled out.

"You’re just playing games with us, acting all holy. This is just some performance, right?" they scoffed.

Annika realized they were digging up an old grudge over Selena’s leg injury, even if she couldn’t remember exactly what they were mad about. Suddenly, the room cleared out fast—everyone could feel Everest was about to walk through the door.

The air shifted hard the second Everest strode in, Selena trailing right behind him. Annika turned to face him, and held his icy stare without flinching.

Their eyes locked, and tension crackled so thick you could feel it in the air. Annika’s lips tugged up into a mocking little smile.

Was he gonna play the big, mighty alpha now?

Suddenly, she wasn’t scared anymore. Screw trying to please him. On impulse, she sank down onto Zeke’s lap. "Mr. Zeke, I’ve made my choice. Let’s drink… together."