Chapter 1: The Devil In A Suit

"Be a good girl, and I'll let you go."

The crystal chandeliers of the Waldorf Astoria ballroom cast a golden glow over Manhattan's elite. Lexi Thorn moved through the crowd with practiced ease, her emerald silk dress, bold enough to be noticed, elegant enough to belong. Tonight wasn't about blending in. Tonight was about landing the Henderson account.

Five years of clawing her way up from assistant to becoming one of the most sought-after event planners in New York had taught her that these galas were battlefields disguised as parties. And she'd come armed.

"Mr. Henderson," she said, extending her hand to the balding man whose company's annual charity gala could make her career. "I was hoping to discuss my proposal for your foundation's spring benefit."

Henderson's eyes flickered past her shoulder, widening slightly. "Perhaps later, Ms. Thorn. I believe Julian Styles just arrived."

Lexi turned, following his gaze to the entrance. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, revealing a tall figure in an impeccably tailored black suit. Even from across the room, she could feel the weight of his presence.

Julian Styles. The name alone commanded reverence in these circles. At forty-five, he wasn't just wealthy, he held all the power. His dark hair, threaded with silver at the temples framed his face. He had sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, and eyes so intensely blue they looked like cut sapphires.

"Excuse me," Henderson muttered, already moving toward Styles like a moth to flame.

Lexi swallowed her frustration and grabbed a champagne flute from a passing server. She'd have to be more aggressive. These men wouldn't just hand her the opportunity she'd worked so hard for.

She downed the champagne in one swift gulp and set the empty glass aside, charting a path through the crowd toward Henderson. She'd just wait for an opening, then—

A solid wall of muscle blocked her path. Lexi crashed into it, her momentum sending her stumbling back. Strong hands caught her arms, steadying her, but not before her fresh glass of champagne emptied itself across an expensive suit jacket.

"I'm so sorry," she began, mortified, before looking up into those piercing blue eyes she'd noticed from across the room.

Julian Styles.

"I believe you owe me a new suit," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent unwelcome heat curling through her.

Lexi pulled away from his grip, ignoring the lingering warmth of his fingers on her skin. "I believe you owe me the right of way," she countered, straightening her spine.

His expression shifted to surprise, then something darker, more predatory. Instead of anger, a slow smile spread across his face. "Most people in this room would be on their knees apologizing."

"I'm not most people."

"No," he agreed, his gaze traveling down her body in a way that made her feel stripped bare. "You certainly aren't."

Lexi's heart hammered against her ribs as she fought to maintain her composure. She'd dealt with powerful men before, men who thought their wealth and status gave them the right to look at her like that. But something about Julian Styles was different. Dangerous.

"If you'll excuse me," she said, moving to step around him.

His hand caught her wrist, the touch sending electricity shooting up her arm. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"That's because I didn't offer it." She tugged her wrist free, hating the way her body responded to his touch.

"You're either very brave or very foolish," he said, leaning closer. The scent of his—expensive cologne with undertones of something darkly masculine, filled her senses. "I'm Julian Styles."

"I know who you are." Everyone knew who he was. "Lexi Thorn."

His smile widened. "Well, Lexi Thorn, it seems you've ruined my evening."

"I doubt anything could ruin your evening, Mr. Styles. Men like you always get what they want." She kept her tone professional, distant, even as it thrummed in her ears.

"You're right about that." His eyes held hers, not blinking. "And what I want right now is for you to join me for a drink. To discuss... compensation."

Lexi's breath caught. "I'm working."

"So am I. Always." His voice dropped lower. "But I'm willing to make an exception for you."

The intensity in his gaze made her stomach flip. This was a man who devoured women like her for breakfast. She'd heard the rumors, how he collected beautiful things, used them, then discarded them when he grew bored.

"I'm not interested," she said, the lie burning her tongue.

Julian stepped closer, the heat of his body engulfing her. He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. "You're lying, Lexi. I can see it in your eyes. Feel it in your pulse." His finger traced the racing beat at her throat. "You want me as much as I want you."

Lexi jerked back, her cheeks burning. "You’re an arrogant bastard."

"And you're a terrible liar." His smile was pure sin. "Be a good girl, and I'll let you go. For now."

She glared up at him. "I don't take orders from men like you."

"Men like me?" He chuckled, the sound dark and promising. "Sweetheart, there are no men like me."

Lexi knew she should walk away. This man was everything she'd spent her life avoiding—controlling, dominant, dangerous. But her body betrayed her, responding to his proximity with a desire so intense it frightened her.

Julian's hand came up, one finger tracing the curve of her jaw. "You'll come to me, sweetheart. They always do."

She stepped back, breaking the contact. "Don't hold your breath."

His laughter followed her as she turned and walked away, her legs unsteady, her heart pounding in her ears. She could feel his eyes on her back, burning through the thin silk of her dress.

Lexi didn't look back. She couldn't. Because something told her that if she did—if she saw that predatory blue gaze just once more—she might not have the strength to keep walking.

And that terrified her more than anything.

Rachel nudged her arm as Lexi slipped away from the crowd, Lexi had forgotten that they were together completely.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Again, nosy Rachel.

Lexi grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter, downing it in one go. “What was what?”

Rachel scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. That man—Julian freaking Styles looked at you like he was two seconds away from devouring you.”

Lexi rolled my eyes. “He’s an arrogant bastard. I don’t have time for men like him.”

Rachel arched a brow. “Don’t you, though? Or is Ethan still keeping you busy?”

Lexi froze, gripping the empty champagne glass. “That’s different.”

Rachel’s smirk was almost cruel. “Right. Because Ethan is sweet and stable and totally safe.” She leaned in, her voice lowering. “But tell me this, Lex. Did he ever make your pulse race the way Julian just did?”

Lexi didn’t answer. Because they both knew the truth. Ethan was nothing like this man.