The electronic lock beeped rapidly. Chadwick Kowalski was on the other side, aggressively swiping a forged keycard against the reader. The shrill sound pierced the quiet of the penthouse.

Dalton didn't back away. He reached out, his large hand wrapping around the cold metal of the door handle. He yanked it inward with brutal force.

The heavy door swung wide open.

Alex Jennings, a notorious gossip reporter, was standing right there. He shoved his massive camera lens straight into the doorway.

Blinding white flashes erupted like a violent storm. The strobe lights fired continuously, desperate to capture a scandalous scene.

Dalton stepped directly into the center of the doorframe. His massive frame formed an impenetrable wall, completely blocking any angle into the bedroom behind him.

He narrowed his dark eyes. The sheer, suffocating authority radiating from him made the reporters in the front row physically flinch. The air in the hallway turned to ice.

Chadwick pushed his way to the front. He pointed a trembling finger right at Dalton's face.

"You forced her!" Chadwick yelled, his voice echoing off the walls. "You took my girlfriend!"

Dalton stared at the man who had ruined Audriana in his past life. His expression was completely dead, looking at Chadwick as if he were already a corpse.

Alex Jennings tried to sidestep Dalton, lifting his camera high to shoot over Dalton's shoulder.

Dalton's hand shot out. His fingers clamped down on the edge of the camera lens with terrifying precision.

A loud, sickening crack echoed in the hallway. The ten-thousand-dollar professional lens shattered under the crushing grip of Dalton's single hand. Glass splintered onto the carpet.

The hallway went dead silent. The reporters stopped breathing, their eyes wide with shock at the casual display of violence.

Inside the bedroom, the commotion finally pierced through Audriana's drug-addled brain. A splitting headache hammered against her skull.

She clutched the oversized cashmere coat tightly around her body. Her legs shook as she stumbled out of the bedroom, leaning heavily against the wall for support.

The moment she appeared, the flashes erupted again.

The harsh light stabbed Audriana's eyes. She gasped, her body flinching backward in sheer terror.

Dalton's chest tightened painfully. He spun around, his long legs closing the distance between them in two strides.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her hard against his chest. He grabbed the wide lapel of the cashmere coat and pulled it up, completely shielding her face from the cameras.

Audriana panicked. The smell of cedar and male aggression surrounded her. She struggled, pushing against his chest, but Dalton's arm wrapped around her waist like a band of solid steel.

Chadwick saw her. He immediately contorted his face into a mask of agony.

"Audriana!" Chadwick cried out, his voice cracking with fake devastation.

Audriana's body went completely rigid. That voice. She knew that voice. She tried to poke her head out from under the coat.

Dalton's large palm clamped down on the back of her head, pressing her face firmly into his chest.

"Don't look," Dalton ordered, his voice a low, vibrating rumble against her ear.

Chadwick turned to the cameras, tears streaming down his face. He accused Dalton of using his Wall Street billions to prey on innocent college girls.

The cameras clicked frantically, eating up every second of Chadwick's performance. A massive media storm was brewing right in front of them.

Audriana shifted her head just enough to peek through the gap in the coat. The blinding flashes illuminated the hallway.

Her brain stuttered to a halt.

She didn't see a heartbroken boyfriend. She saw the ugly, unfiltered greed shining in Chadwick's eyes.

The fog of the drug cleared for a split second. A block of ice dropped into her stomach. Chadwick had handed her the drink. Chadwick had brought her here.

The sheer weight of the betrayal hit her nervous system. Her knees buckled. All the strength drained from her legs.

Dalton caught her immediately. He braced his stance, taking her entire body weight against his side without shifting an inch.

He lifted his chin. His dark eyes swept over the cluster of cameras and reporters, looking at them like a tyrant surveying a rebellion.

He pulled his phone from his pocket with his free hand. He hit the speed dial for his executive assistant, Simon Fletcher.

"Clear the floor," Dalton said. Two words. He hung up.

He looked back down at Chadwick, who was still rambling to the cameras. Dalton's lips parted slightly, ready to drop the match on the gasoline.

"Shut your mouths."

Dalton's voice wasn't loud, but the deep, gravelly baritone exploded down the narrow hallway.

The sheer dominance in his tone was suffocating. The reporters instinctively froze. Fingers lifted off shutter buttons. The flashing lights died.

Chadwick hated losing control of the narrative. He raised his voice even higher.

"How much money is it going to take for you to let her go?!" Chadwick demanded, stepping forward.

Dalton didn't even look at him. He looked down at the trembling girl crushed against his chest.

He lifted his warm hand and pressed it firmly over Audriana's exposed ear, pressing her other ear against his chest. He refused to let her hear the filth coming out of Chadwick's mouth.

Dalton slowly raised his head. His gaze locked onto the backup phone Alex Jennings was using to record the scene.

He reached up with his free hand and calmly adjusted his right cufflink. His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, yet heavy with absolute authority.

"Audriana Christensen is my fiancée."

The words hit the hallway like a physical shockwave. The silence that followed was absolute, heavy enough to choke on.

Chadwick's face froze. His mouth hung open in a grotesque, comical expression of pure disbelief.

Against Dalton's chest, Audriana's head jerked up. Her eyes were wide, staring in absolute shock at the sharp line of Dalton's jaw.

Dalton looked down at her. His dark eyes held no trace of a joke. There was only a terrifying, deep-rooted certainty.

Alex Jennings stuttered, pointing a shaky finger at Chadwick. "But... he said he's her boyfriend."

Dalton let out a dark, humorless laugh.

"He sold his girlfriend to an underground casino to cover a five-hundred-thousand-dollar gambling debt," Dalton stated coldly, exposing the rot for everyone to see.

All the blood drained from Chadwick's face. He stumbled backward, his eyes wide with terror. He couldn't comprehend how the Wall Street billionaire knew his deepest, darkest secret.

The reporters smelled blood. The cameras instantly pivoted, the lenses now shoved directly into Chadwick's sweating face.

Dalton didn't stop. "The keycard he used tonight is a forgery. That is a federal felony."

Chadwick opened his mouth to defend himself, but his voice cracked. His weak stammers were nothing against the crushing weight of Dalton's detailed accusations.

Audriana stared at the man she had dated for two years. A violent wave of nausea twisted her stomach, making bile rise in her throat.

She grabbed the lapels of Dalton's coat. Her knuckles turned stark white. He was a stranger, but right now, he was the only solid ground she had left.

Dalton felt her small fingers digging into his chest. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even deeper into his protective space.

He looked straight into the recording phone.

"Any media outlet that publishes a single photo from tonight will face a total, permanent blackout from the West Corporation."

The threat was absolute. The veteran reporters in the back exchanged nervous glances. They slowly lowered their cameras. No one was willing to bet their entire career against Dalton West.

The elevator bell chimed at the end of the hall.

The metal doors slid open. Simon Fletcher stepped out, flanked by a dozen massive men in black suits.

The security team moved with military precision. They surged forward, violently snatching memory cards and cameras from the reporters' hands.

Chadwick saw the men and tried to bolt toward the stairwell. Two massive guards grabbed him, slamming him face-first into the wallpapered wall.

Dalton watched Chadwick get pinned. His eyes were dead, showing zero mercy.

He turned around, keeping Audriana securely against his side. He lifted his long leg and kicked the heavy mahogany door shut.

The heavy thud sealed the room, cutting off the chaos of the hallway instantly.

The penthouse was dead silent. The only sound was the jagged, uneven breathing of the two people standing in the foyer.

Audriana's adrenaline finally crashed. The last thread of her strength snapped. Her legs gave out completely, and she plummeted toward the hardwood floor.

Audriana fell backward.

Dalton's arm shot out. He caught her by her narrow waist, his strong grip stopping her fall instantly. He pulled her flush against his hard chest.

She slumped against him, too weak to stand. Her face was as pale as a sheet of paper, and a cold sweat coated her forehead.

Dalton didn't hesitate. He scooped her up into his arms, carrying her easily as he walked toward the expansive living room.

He lowered her onto the Italian leather sofa. His movements were painstakingly slow, treating her as if she were made of fragile glass that would shatter at the slightest jolt.

Audriana immediately tried to push herself up. She pulled the edges of the cashmere coat tightly around her neck, her eyes wide and filled with raw defense.

"Why did you lie to them?" she asked, her voice shaking uncontrollably. "Why did you say I was your fiancée?"

Dalton walked to the kitchen island. He poured a glass of warm water and walked back, holding it out to her. His deep eyes locked onto hers, hiding the agonizing memories of his past life.

"It was the only way to kill the story," Dalton said, his voice completely rational and detached. "It protects your reputation."

Audriana took the glass. The warmth of the water seeped into her freezing fingers, bringing back a tiny sliver of clarity. But her guard remained high.

She set the glass down on the glass coffee table. She forced her shaking legs to support her as she stood up.

"Thank you," she said, her voice tight. "But I need to leave the hotel right now."

Dalton's brow furrowed into a sharp V. He stepped directly into her path. His massive frame blocked her completely, an immovable mountain in the center of the room.

"There are at least thirty paparazzi swarming the main lobby right now," Dalton said coldly. "Walking out there is suicide."

Audriana bit her lower lip hard, the pain keeping her focused. "I can take the service elevator. Or the back exit."

Dalton took a step forward. He breached her personal space. The sheer physical dominance radiating from him made her instinctively take a step back.

He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. He held it up to her face.

The live security feeds of the hotel lobby played on the screen. Every single exit, every service door, was completely blocked by men holding cameras.

The brutal reality crushed Audriana's last hope. Her shoulders slumped. She collapsed back onto the leather sofa and buried her face in her hands.

Dalton looked down at her defeated posture. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides. His fingernails dug into his palms as he fought the desperate urge to pull her into his arms.

He forced his voice to soften.

"You take the master bedroom tonight," Dalton said. "I'll sleep out here on the sofa."

Audriana's head snapped up. She stared at him in shock. The ruthless Wall Street tyrant the media always talked about was offering to sleep on a couch for a stranger.

She looked at Dalton's imposing height-he was easily six-foot-three-and then looked at the sleek, modern sofa. It was far too small for him. She hesitated.

Dalton didn't give her a chance to argue. He turned his back to her and walked straight to the wet bar. He poured two fingers of neat whiskey into a crystal glass.

"Go wash up and go to sleep," Dalton ordered, his back still turned. "Lock the door."

The sudden coldness in his voice startled her. Exhaustion was pulling her under, and she had no fight left. She gave in.

She dragged her heavy feet toward the master bedroom. She stepped inside and pushed the door shut.

Click.

The sound of the lock turning echoed in the quiet penthouse. Dalton's heart physically ached at the sound of her locking him out.

He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. He stared out at the glittering Manhattan skyline. His eyes darkened, the cold rationality replaced by a vicious, predatory glare.

He threw his head back and downed the whiskey in one gulp. The alcohol burned his throat, but it was nothing compared to the rage boiling in his blood.

He walked over to the sofa. He ripped his silk tie off and tossed it onto the coffee table. He lowered his massive frame onto the cushions, his long legs hanging awkwardly off the edge.

The strip of light under the bedroom door vanished. She was in bed. The tight knot in Dalton's chest finally loosened a fraction.

In the dark, his phone screen lit up.

A text from Simon: Chadwick Kowalski is secured in the holding room.

Dalton's thumbs moved quickly over the screen, typing out his next order. He hit send. The players from his past life were all moving into position. The game was just beginning.