Jocelyn woke up. The morning sun stabbed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, blinding her.

She pulled the heavy duvet up to her chest and sat up. Her muscles ached, a sharp reminder of the violence and passion of the night before.

She turned her head. Hayes was standing in front of the full-length mirror.

He was already fully dressed. His suit was immaculate. His face was a mask of cold indifference. It was as if the wild beast from last night had never existed. The air in the room felt freezing.

Jocelyn opened her mouth to speak.

Hayes didn't look at her. He picked up his phone from the dresser, tapped the screen a few times, and set it down. A second later, her old phone on the nightstand chimed with a message. It was a digital transfer notification from his assistant, Julian, showing a seven-figure sum deposited into a proxy account.

"Leave," he said. His voice was completely flat.

The glowing screen illuminated the sterile white sheets. Jocelyn's chest tightened with a sharp, humiliating sting. She clamped her jaw shut. She refused to let him see her break.

Suddenly, the phone on the nightstand vibrated loudly.

The screen lit up. The name 'Cam' flashed across the glass. The buzzing shattered the dead silence of the room.

Hayes paused. His fingers stopped adjusting his tie. His eyes flicked to the mirror, staring at the glowing screen on the bed. The temperature in the room dropped another ten degrees.

Jocelyn picked up the phone. She swiped to answer it right in front of him.

"Where the hell are you?" Cam's irritated voice barked through the speaker. "Get downstairs. We have the family brunch."

Jocelyn kept her voice perfectly steady. "I slept over at a friend's house. I overslept."

"You're wasting my time," Cam snapped, completely oblivious. "Hurry up."

Jocelyn ended the call. She threw the duvet off and stepped onto the plush rug barefoot. She picked up her ruined silk dress from the floor and slipped it on.

She didn't even glance at the notification. She walked straight past the bed, heading for the massive glass window that overlooked the Manhattan streets.

She looked down.

A familiar black Porsche was parked on the street below. Cam was leaning against the driver's side door, smoking a cigarette, looking annoyed.

A dark thrill of revenge shot through Jocelyn's veins. She spun around and walked right into Hayes's path as he headed for the door.

She blocked him. She looked up at his towering frame. Slowly, she reached up and pulled the collar of her dress down, exposing the dark red marks on her collarbone.

Hayes's eyes darkened. "The game is over," he warned. He reached out to push her aside.

Jocelyn grabbed his tie. She wrapped the silk around her fist and yanked hard. Hayes was forced to lower his head. Their noses almost touched.

"Is the King of Wall Street scared of his own nephew?" she whispered.

A storm erupted in Hayes's eyes.

He didn't push her away. His large hands gripped her waist. He lifted her entirely off the floor and carried her toward the window.

Jocelyn's bare back hit the freezing glass. She gasped.

Cam's figure down on the street suddenly felt terrifyingly close.

Hayes grabbed her chin, forcing her to look down. "Is this the cheap thrill you're looking for?" he sneered.

Jocelyn's heart pounded so hard it hurt her ribs. She looked at Cam, completely clueless below them. She refused to back down. She turned her head and crashed her lips against Hayes's mouth.

He didn't stop her. He kissed her back with brutal force. He pinned her against the glass, taking everything she offered.

The glass was freezing. His body was burning hot. Out of the corner of her eye, Jocelyn saw Cam shift his weight. He was getting ready to look up.

Panic seized her throat. Her body started to tremble. She tried to pull back, but Hayes's arm was an iron band around her waist. She dug her nails into his bicep.

Cam tilted his head back. His eyes scanned the upper floors of the building.

Jocelyn squeezed her eyes shut in pure terror.

A second before Cam's eyes locked onto them, Hayes reached out and slammed his hand against the wall panel. The electronic blinds dropped instantly, plunging the room into shadows.

Hayes broke the kiss. He stepped back. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, his eyes unreadable.

He adjusted his tie, smoothing out the wrinkles she had made. "Don't ever play these stupid games with me again," he said coldly. "Or I'll ruin you."

Jocelyn leaned against the glass, gasping for air. She watched him walk out the door. A slow, victorious smile spread across her swollen lips.

She quickly fixed her dress. She walked over to the bed, picked up her phone, and ruthlessly deleted the transfer message, blocking the proxy account entirely. She tossed the phone into her purse.

Jocelyn opened the penthouse door and walked to the elevator. It was time to go downstairs and face the man she had just betrayed.

Jocelyn walked out of the building's lobby. She pulled open the passenger door of the Porsche and slid into the leather seat.

As she buckled her seatbelt, something sharp dug into the side of her thigh. She shifted, her fingers brushing against the leather crevice. She pulled it out. It was a flashy, diamond-encrusted drop earring. Her blood ran ice cold. She recognized it instantly-it was Kiley's favorite piece, the one she wore to every major event. The implication of why it was wedged deep in the passenger seat of Cam's car was a sickening slap to the face. She clenched her fist around the sharp metal, letting the physical pain ground her.

Cam immediately wrinkled his nose. "What is that smell?" he asked, looking disgusted. "You smell like men's cologne. Cedar."

Jocelyn kept her face blank. She rolled down the window. "It's my friend's perfume. It's strong."

Cam scoffed and put the car in drive. He didn't care enough to ask more.

The car merged into the heavy Manhattan traffic. The sky above them turned a bruised purple. Thick, black clouds rolled in. A thunderstorm was about to break.

Cam's phone rang. A specific, customized ringtone filled the car. Jocelyn's stomach churned. It was Kiley.

Cam answered it. His annoyed expression instantly melted into absolute panic. "Kiley? Baby, what's wrong? Your heart again?"

Cam slammed his foot on the brake.

The Porsche jerked to a violent stop on the side of the road. The seatbelt locked, digging painfully into Jocelyn's collarbone. She winced, rubbing her shoulder.

Cam didn't even look at her. He pointed at the door. "Get out. Kiley is sick. I have to go to her."

Jocelyn stared at him. She looked out the window. The first heavy drops of rain were already hitting the windshield. "We're in the middle of the industrial district. There are no cabs here."

"I don't care!" Cam yelled, his face twisting with rage. "You're so cold-blooded! Your sister is dying and you only care about yourself!"

He reached across her lap and shoved the passenger door open.

The freezing wind and rain instantly whipped into the car. Jocelyn looked at his pathetic, desperate face. The last tiny shred of warmth she had for him died right there.

She didn't argue. She unbuckled her seatbelt. She stepped out into a deep puddle of muddy water in her expensive heels. She slammed the door shut with all her strength.

The Porsche's engine roared. Cam floored the gas pedal. The tires spun, kicking up a massive wave of dirty water that splashed all over Jocelyn's legs and dress. The car disappeared down the street.

Jocelyn stood alone in the pouring rain. Her silk dress clung to her freezing skin. The cold sank straight into her bones.

She pulled her phone out of her purse with shaking hands. The screen flickered, flashed white, and went completely black. Water damage.

The rain fell harder, blinding her. A massive delivery truck sped past, the wind from it almost knocking her off her feet.

Jocelyn retreated under the narrow awning of a closed warehouse. Her lips were turning blue. A fiery, consuming hatred burned in her chest, keeping her standing.

She reached down to take off her heels, preparing to walk.

Suddenly, two blinding headlights pierced through the heavy rain. The beams hit her directly.

Jocelyn threw her hand up to shield her eyes. A black, top-of-the-line Rolls Royce Phantom pulled up smoothly, stopping just inches from the curb.

The rear window rolled down silently. Hayes's sharp, god-like profile appeared in the shadows of the backseat.

The driver quickly got out, popped open a large black umbrella, and opened the rear door for her. He bowed slightly.

Jocelyn looked at the dry, luxurious leather interior. She gritted her teeth. She climbed in, bringing the mud and the rain with her.

The door shut. The sound of the storm was instantly cut off. The warm air from the vents hit her freezing skin, making her shiver violently.

Hayes turned his head. He looked at her dripping hair and ruined dress. A dark, dangerous emotion flickered in his eyes.

He didn't ask what happened. He opened the storage compartment between them, pulled out a thick cashmere towel, and threw it directly over her head.

The towel covered her face. Jocelyn yanked it off. She glared at him, her pride refusing to let her say thank you.

"Take us back to The Penthouse," Hayes ordered the driver.

Jocelyn's head snapped up. "No. I have a family brunch to get to."

Hayes let out a cruel laugh. "You look like a drowned rat chasing a bone that isn't even yours."

The words sliced through her like a knife. Her eyes stung.

She lunged across the seat. She grabbed the lapels of his expensive suit, her muddy hands staining the fabric. She glared right into his eyes.

Hayes didn't flinch. He didn't push her away. His large hand came up and clamped around the back of her neck. He pulled her forward.

In the dim light of the car, their breaths tangled. Jocelyn's hatred and ambition fed off the intense scrutiny in his eyes. She didn't pull back. She let him look.

The Rolls Royce glided smoothly into the brightly lit underground garage of The Penthouse.

The driver opened the door. Hayes stepped out first. Jocelyn wrapped the cashmere towel tightly around her shoulders and followed, her soaked heels squishing with every step.

They walked into the private elevator. The high-speed ascent made Jocelyn's stomach drop. She shivered, her teeth chattering from the cold and the adrenaline.

The doors chimed and opened directly into the top-floor apartment. Lightning flashed outside the massive windows, illuminating the dark, modern furniture.

Hayes peeled off his ruined suit jacket and tossed it to the butler. "Take her to the guest room. Make sure she showers," he ordered. His tone left no room for argument.

The butler led Jocelyn to a massive marble bathroom. She stood under the scalding hot water, scrubbing the mud and the humiliation off her skin until it turned red.

When she stepped out, she realized there were no women's clothes. The only thing resting on the counter was a crisp, white men's dress shirt.

Jocelyn took a deep breath. She put it on. The hem barely covered her upper thighs. She rolled up the sleeves and walked out into the massive, empty living room.

Hayes was sitting on the leather sofa. He held a glass of whiskey over ice in one hand. A tablet rested on his lap, displaying real-time stock data.

He heard her footsteps and looked up. His eyes slowly dragged down her bare legs, lingering on the curves hidden beneath his shirt. His Adam's apple bobbed once.

Jocelyn walked over and sat on the sofa opposite him. She kept her posture straight. "I want a long-term alliance."

Hayes let out a short, mocking breath. He set his whiskey down on the glass table. "You have nothing to negotiate with except your body."

Jocelyn smiled. It was a cold, sharp smile. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Check the M&A department's accounts for the last quarter. The numbers don't match."

Hayes's fingers stopped tapping the tablet. His gaze sharpened into blades. He stared at the woman sitting in front of him.

"Cam is embezzling company funds," Jocelyn stated clearly. "And as his shadow analyst, I have every single piece of proof. But that's just the tip of the iceberg. I've been backing up his files for three years. I have a complete log of his illegal insider trading, corporate espionage, and every dirty kickback he's taken. I have enough to send him and half his cronies to federal prison."

The air in the room grew heavy. The pressure radiating from Hayes was suffocating. "Why are you selling out your fiancé?"

Pure venom flashed in Jocelyn's eyes. "I want him destroyed. And you want to clean house. We both win."

The room fell dead silent. Only the sound of the rain lashing against the glass could be heard. Hayes studied her face, evaluating her like a high-stakes investment.

Suddenly, he leaned forward. His hand shot out and gripped her chin. His fingers pressed hard into her jaw.

"Making a deal with the devil comes with a price," he warned, his voice a low scrape. "Are you ready to be my plaything?"

Jocelyn didn't blink. She stared straight into his dark eyes. "I don't care about the price. Just give me the power."

A flash of dark approval and extreme possessiveness crossed Hayes's face. He let go of her chin. His thumb brushed slowly across her bottom lip.

"I will protect you," he declared coldly. "I will give you the power you want. Until I get bored."

The contract was sealed. Jocelyn's tense muscles relaxed for a fraction of a second.

Hayes didn't give her time to breathe. He grabbed her waist and yanked her forward. Jocelyn tumbled onto his lap, straddling his hard thighs. Two buttons on the white shirt popped open.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the body wash mixed with his own cedar cologne.

Jocelyn froze for a second. Then, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, playing her part in this game of power and lust.

His mouth moved from her neck to her lips. The kiss was frantic, demanding, and completely overwhelming. Jocelyn's logic short-circuited.

The tablet was knocked off his lap. It hit the thick rug with a dull thud, the stock numbers glowing in the dark.

Lightning tore across the sky outside, illuminating their tangled bodies on the sofa. The taboo fire exploded in the middle of the storm.

As her mind went blank, Jocelyn knew one thing for sure: she had just secured the sharpest knife to stab her enemies.