Sara's POV

Sean's text buzzed on my phone, shattering my focus. Our evening plans were now in ruins.

I stared at the screen, reading his message.

Sean had outdone himself, booking a private lounge at the Milton.

Milton!

That was a five-star hotel, where champagne flowed like water and bills for a night could buy a house. My stomach twisted. I had nothing but a few crumpled bills in my purse.

His call came through before I could think about the mess we were in.

"The manager's here at the door, demanding payment," Sean said, his voice tight.

I bit my lip, hard. "Then leave, Sean. The deal fell apart."

"What do you mean?" Urgency spiked his tone. "I've been here for hours. I've already ordered food and drinks."

Sean was going to be my downfall.

"Couldn't you wait for me?" I snapped. "Do you have any money?"

"A hundred bucks."

That couldn't even pay for a night in a lounge at Milton.

"Hold on," I said. "Tell the manager I'm on my way and you're just my PA."

I ended the call, slipping back into Evelyn Rodriguez.

At the hotel, I strode through the marble lobby, exuding confidence that turned heads. Designer sunglasses perched on my nose, my lips curled in a disdain of a rich, spoilt heiress.

I stopped at the reception desk. "I need the manager," I said, my voice crisp and commanding.

The receptionist nodded, flustered. "Right away, ma'am."

I tapped my manicured nails on the polished wood, the rhythm steady, practiced.

This always worked.

The manager appeared minutes later, apologies escaping from his mouth as he saw my fur coat and haughty air. I didn't remove my sunglasses or acknowledge his apologies.

"Why was my PA harassed this afternoon?" I asked, my voice icy. "This hotel came highly recommended. I'm disappointed, to say the least."

The manager spun to the receptionist, demanding answers.

"The lounge hasn't been paid for, nor the services," she stammered.

He faced me, practically bowing. "My deepest apologies, ma'am."

"Evelyn Rodriguez," I said, letting the name carry weight. "I flew in from Mexico this morning, and my day's been dreadful. Have someone bring the bill tomorrow when I've exchanged my currencies." I pressed a hand to my forehead, feigning a wince. "I have a headache and won't like to be disturbed."

"Of course," he said, nodding vigorously. "My apologies."

I gave a curt nod and strutted toward the elevator, stifling a smirk. That was the Evelyn Rodriguez magic, never failing.

In the lounge, I locked the door, tore off my blonde wig, and let out an exasperated sigh. The room was stunning with crystal chandeliers, velvet couches, and a view of the city's glittering skyline from the window.

But we couldn't afford a single hour here.

Sean lounged on a sofa, emptying a bottle of champagne. He grinned, stood arms outstretched as I entered.

I pushed him back. "You're useless, Sean." I gestured to the food cart, laden with half-eaten dishes fit for a banquet. "What were you thinking? Who eats like a pig when we're broke?"

His grin faded. "Don't take it out on me, Sara." He softened, opening his arms. "C'mon, don't I get a hug?"

I sank into his embrace, the fight draining out of me.

"What happened with the necklace?" he asked, voice low.

I kicked off my six-inch heels and pulled out of my gown, Sean's eyes tracing my form as I crossed the room to a bottle of merlot. I poured, the wine's sharp tang soothing my parched throat, and slumped into a chair.

"You won't believe who I met," I said, setting the bottle down. "And what he offered."

"Spill."

I took more. "Thomas Grey."

Sean choked on his champagne. "The Thomas Grey? Did he recognize you?"

I shook my head. "No way. He was too drunk that night, and the room was dark."

Three years ago, I'd spotted Grey in a bar, drowning his sorrows, his Rolex my reason for approaching him. A billionaire in a place like that? Something had broken him. I'd offered a night to forget his pains, my eyes on the watch.

The night was good but the money from the Rolex was better.

"Will you tell him about-"

"No." I stood, cutting him off. Sean knew not to touch that topic. Whatever happened with Grey stayed buried right there in the past.

I fished the ID card from my purse and tossed it onto the bed. "He offered me a job."

Sean's eyes flicked to the card. "Irene Peters?"

"That's not the amusing part." I sat, restless, the encounter with Grey still buzzing under my skin. "He wants me to spy on Carlos Alvarez."

Sean's face mirrored the dread I'd felt when Grey dropped that name. "Did you agree?"

"I had no choice."

"Fuck, Sara!" He shot up, pacing. "You'll get yourself killed. Alvarez is a monster. You can't do this."

"For two million dollars, I can." I moved to him, cupping his face, my lips brushing his. "We need this, Sean. A break. A vacation far from this chaos, with Sophie and Sam."

He nodded, reluctant, worry written all over his face. "What does Grey want?"

I pulled away, grabbing the merlot and draining the bottle. "To sabotage Alvarez's business launch. I've got six months." I pointed to the card. "That's my ticket in. I apply as his PA under that name."

Sean took my hand, his grip tight. "You sure about this?"

"Think of the money. I've conned politicians, Sean. I can handle Alvarez."

"A ruthless mafia boss?"

I flashed a grin. "Maybe he's never met a desperate con artist."

I crossed to the mirror, adjusting my wig and reapplying lipstick. Blood-red and bold. "First, we need cash to cover this lounge and have the night we deserve. Ben's charity dinner is tonight."

"You're not tired?"

I slipped into the emerald gown I'd bought en route, its silk hugging my curves. "Will resting pay the bill? We can make enough tonight to stay here three days before crawling back to your dump." I laughed, bitter. "Maybe if I land this PA gig, I'll move in with Alvarez."

"That's not funny."

"My life's a joke lately."

I studied my reflection, Evelyn Rodriguez reborn. Ready to charm, con, and survive another night.

Sara's POV

The moment I spotted Trey Houston, I knew I'd struck gold. America's sugar daddy and fairy godfather to anyone with a sob story and a pretty face.

I glided past him, my perfume introducing myself and stealing his attention. I didn't pause nor glance his way. The best way to hook a man was to Ignore him.

Let him chase.

The charity dinner was in full swing, the hall buzzing with dignitaries and men whose egos matched their bank accounts. I settled into a chair, feigning indifference, my eyes fixed on Charles Baker's boring speech.

I had conned him once. That was two years ago, a quick steal he'd never trace to me. At least ,he had no proof. His face hadn't changed, but mine had, thanks to my wig.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

I turned to Trey, offering a polished smile. "Of course not."

He sank into the seat beside me, his cologne sharp and expensive. "Here for the charity dinner?"

Wasn't it obvious?

"I'm disappointed in myself," I said, sighing. "i flew in from Mexico for this, but my bank's acting up and I can't make a donation."

He nodded, eyes lingering on me. "Mexican?"

"Half. Mostly American. Evelyn Rodriguez." I extended a hand, letting my fingers brush his.

"Trey Houston."

I flicked my gaze back to Charles, playing distracted. "I grew up here, but you'd never guess it because of my surname. And yet again, I've got no Mexican accent because I was practically here most of the time while my father was building his billion dollar company. As a kid, I thought my mom was a famous actress." I chuckled, soft and wistful. "Then I realized we lived in Hollywood, but she never made it to a screen."

Trey laughed, warmth in his eyes. "The movie industry's brutal."

"Not as brutal as running a business," I said, leaning closer. "Especially as a woman."

His gaze roamed my face, my neckline. "You're beautiful, Evelyn."

"A compliment I hear daily." I tilted my head, playful. "Are you single, Trey? I could use company while I'm in town. I'm at the Milton's lounge. You could stop by if you like. We could... discuss business."

His smile turned naughty. "I'm as free as a bird. How about tonight? Show me that lounge, and who knows..."

"Who knows?" I echoed, matching his tone. "Are you a businessman?"

"Let's say I'm a jack-of-all-trades, master of all."

"Including pleasing a woman?"

He chuckled. "I could be your personal gigolo."

"Oh, I'm intrigued." I leaned in, voice low. "Since my bank's a mess and I can't make any donations, why don't we skip this and see how good you are? Get to know each other... better."

Trey didn't hesitate. His sleek Bentley whisked us to Milton, champagne flowing in the backseat as we traded talk of his businesses and my fictional empires. I spun tales of my father's company in Mexico and my plans to expand more branches to America once I claimed the CEO title.

"You must know my father," I said. "Antonio Rodriguez."

He shook his head. "Americans like to keep business in America."

"While Europeans build empires home and abroad," I countered, sipping my drink.

At the lounge, Sean was gone, back to his dingy apartment. I locked the door behind us, turning to Trey with a seductive smile. "Show me what you can do."

I let my gown slip to the floor, revealing curves shapened by gyming and nature. Trey's eyes devoured me, his shirt hitting the floor in seconds, hands reaching for my waist.

"Americans love to rush, don't they?" I teased, stepping back.

"We're the fastest economy for a reason," he growled, closing the gap between us.

His lips crashed into mine, hungry, and for a moment, I let myself sink into fantasy..Aweek in this lounge far from Sean's reeking apartment. But as Trey's hands roamed, my mind betrayed me, drifting to him. Thomas Grey. Seeing him today had upsetted me more than I'd admitted.

I remembered his touch. Gentle yet firm, holding me in a way that felt dangerous. His lips, soft but insistent, pulling me to the seventh heaven.

"Grey..." I whispered, the name slipping out.

Trey, lost in his haze, didn't notice.

What if Grey had recognized me today? Could I tell him the truth about that night? About what it left behind?

No. Six months under his watchful eye would be torture. One glance at my twins and he'd know they were his. Their green eyes, his eyes, would betray me.

This deal with Grey was like walking on a tightrope, and I was already slipping.

"Evelyn?" Trey's voice cut through, his hands pausing. "You seem distracted."

I traced his chest, forcing a smile. "Aren't all businesswomen?"

"You don't mix business with pleasure," he said, misquoting with a grin.

I laughed, letting him think he'd won me back. The night blurred into quick, practiced motions, but I kissed him awake in the early hours, right before a knock sounded at the door.

"We're here for payment, ma'am," a hotel staffer by the door said.

I raised my voice, loud enough for Trey to hear. "My bank's still a mess! Can't you wait until noon?"

Trey was at my side in an instant, pulling me close, his ego gleaming like a knight's armor. "I'll handle the bills."

His credit card swiped, securing seven days of luxury.

I kept my Evelyn smile in place. "Thanks for the save," I said, brushing a kiss across his cheek. "Next time I'm in the States, I'll repay you... any way you like. Or I could host you in Mexico."

He frowned, reluctant. "You're here for seven days, right?"

"Swamped with meetings, Trey." I kissed him again, deeper. "I've got to prove I'm worthy of my father's empire, remember?"

As I shut the door behind him, my smirk returned. No one was beyond my reach.

Grey's POV

I stared at the medical report, disappointed, wearing a face that betrayed nothing..

After months of therapy, and nothing.

The doctor's apologetic gaze met mine. "I'm sorry, Mr. Grey. The sessions haven't worked. Surgery is the next step."

It was just another drop in a bottomless ocean. My time wasted, my money burned, and still, the virility test glared back. Negative.

"However," he added, hesitant, "surgery doesn't guarantee success-"

I shot to my feet, tossing the report aside. "This isn't right!"

He stood, hands raised to calm me. "Mr. Grey, please-"

"I've done everything," I snapped, pacing his office. "Every pill, every session, not a single day skipped. Why is it still the same?" I massaged my temple and paced the office, then spun to face him. "Does this mean I can't have children?"

I needed the truth, raw and unfiltered. No more sugar coating.

"We can't say definitively-"

"Answer me, damn it!" My fist slammed the desk, dropping a pen to the floor.

He sighed, shoulders sagging. "Surgery might work..."

"What are my chances?" I needed to know. "How low?"

The doctor sighed and I knew it was bad news. "Given that your condition is rooted more in psychological trauma than the physical injury, the odds are... low. I'll say it all depends on you."

On me?

What the hell hadn't I done? Did he understand the frustration of not being able to be aroused or being able to do anything at all?

And worst, I needed an heir. Without one, my empire that built on decades of sacrifice would fall to my vulture cousins. All the years I had put into learning business, right from childhood. I'd traded prom nights, first loves, a normal life for boardrooms and balance sheets, all under my father's iron gaze. I hadn't even had a girlfriend until my last year in college.

And now this?

I couldn't accept it.

"You must let go of the past," the doctor said, his voice soft, probing.

My jaw clenched, fists balling. Letting go meant erasing all the memories I had with Anne, my first love, the only one who saw the man beneath the mask, and the sacrifices I've had to make.

We'd met in London, at a business conference I attended a few days to my exams.

"The real test is out there, son," my father said. "Everything you do in school is just theory. Out there in conferences and board rooms, is the real deal."

She was there with her uncle, her smile stealing my breath and heart.

"They never let us live, do they?" she'd whispered, her eyes sparkling with rebellion. One that ignited mine

I was in my final year in business college and she in her first. I skipped the conference to chase her laughter through London's streets, dreaming of a future where she'd wear my ring and we would have a family.

"They wouldn't even know we're gone," I'd said, nudging her to explore the city.

"Sounds like fun," she'd replied, her chuckle a melody.

We were two sides of the same coin, bound by duty yet craving freedom. When I returned to New York, buried in work, she never complained. She understood.

We made the absolute best couple.

Until that weekend she snuck to see me. I was driving her to the airport, her hand in mine, when fate stole everything from me. Her life, my heart, and my future.

"You can't tell me to let go!" I roared at the doctor, my voice cracking with hurt.

It was sacrilege. I'd begged Anne to skip classes, to come see me. I should've died in her place.

Maybe I had. I was merely a walking corpse. No, heart, no soul. And now, no way to have a continuity. They all died on the spot that day, alongside my pretty Anne.

I stormed out of the office , certain I would not be returning. Luca trailed behind as I strode to my waiting car, my face the polished mask of the businessman the world knew. But if they looked inside, they'd see I was just a vacuum.

Empty.

In the car, Luca launched into updates, but my mind was on Carlos Alvarez.

"Intel says he's planning a major shipment this weekend," Luca said.

That was not enough. I needed more. That was why I needed Sara Anderson to be my eyes and ears. I couldn't let Carlos come to take everything I had worked so hard for.

"What about Sara? Any word?" I asked.

"She called saying she would start next week."

Next week? Was she crazy?

"Damn it," I muttered. Did she understand the stakes at hand? Alvarez wouldn't wait a week to hire a PA. She had to be there today.

"Get her on the line. Now."

The phone rang, then rang again, before her voicemail chirped: "This is Evelyn Rodriguez. I'm either having the time of my life or in a meeting. Please, leave a message. Thank you."

I clenched my jaw. "Did you trace her to where she stays at the moment?"

"Yes, boss. A lounge in Milton," Luca confirmed.

I nodded. "Take me there."

I had no time for silly games. Sara would sign a contract. If she failed to get me what I wanted, I would make sure she rots in prison.

Once we got to Milton, I marched down the hallway to the lounge, my heels clicking with purpose. I knocked, sharp and insistent.

A singsong "Coming!" floated through the door to my ears.

Seconds stretched to minutes. When it finally opened, Sara stood there, her smile melting into shock when she saw me. She had obviously been expecting someone. I could guess it was one of the men she was about to strip bare to nothing.

My eyes dropped to the silk lingerie clinging to her curves, and I felt something I hadn't felt since Anne.

My heart stirred, faint but undeniable.