His Revenge, Her Ruin

Sophia Sinclair shifted lazily in the plush bedding, but a sudden loss of gravity sent her plummeting over the edge. She hit the floor with a dull thud, her temple cracking hard against the mahogany nightstand. A sharp pang shot through her skull, turning her already foggy mind into a spinning top.

Rubbing the tender spot on her head and the ache in her hip, she pushed herself up, her eyelids fluttering open.

Heavy, layered velvet drapes sealed the room in a suffocating twilight.

Sophia scanned the unfamiliar space. The crisp sheets, the generic yet expensive artwork—it looked like a suite at The Grand Sterling Hotel. But how? She had zero recollection of checking in. She was supposed to be asleep in her own apartment. How on earth had she ended up here?

She tried to scramble to her feet, but as she moved, the thin silk sheet slipped away, leaving her completely exposed. Her breath hitched.

*When did she start sleeping naked?*

The sudden rush of water from the en-suite bathroom behind her made her freeze. She stared blankly at the frosted glass for three solid seconds before the fragmented memories crashed into her mind like a tidal wave.

She had downed one too many whiskey sours at The Velvet Room. Stumbling out into the rain-slicked streets of Manhattan, she had fought a man in a bespoke suit for a yellow cab. He had been stubborn, refusing to back off… and then… then she had just yanked the door open and tumbled into the backseat with him. After that, nothing but a void of blackness.

Oh God. The last remnants of sleep evaporated. Her eyes widened in sheer horror. This was undoubtedly the most reckless, outrageous thing she had ever done in her life.

As she stood, a dull, tearing ache between her legs brought tears to her eyes. Swallowing a bitter sob, she ignored the throbbing in her head and the soreness in her body. She snatched her scattered clothes from the floor, yanking them on with trembling hands, and bolted out of the suite like a bat out of hell.

*She would just treat it like a bad dream. A terrible, awful nightmare.*

But what she didn’t know was that the nightmare had barely begun.

Two Months Later.

“Listen to me, Sebastian Windham, don’t think for a second that this will make me cave! I’m telling you, no. Not now, not ever!” Sophia slammed the receiver down onto the cradle, her chest heaving with rage. How could her luck be this catastrophically bad?

Two months prior, that disastrous night at the hotel had left her swallowing a bitter pill, with no one to blame but herself. She had to just s*ck it up and accept her misfortune. And the root of it all traced back to that b*st*rd Sebastian Windham. Now he actually expected her to surrender to his terms? She would have to be out of her mind to compromise with a man like him.

She ran her fingers through her hair in sheer frustration and turned around—only to be met with the heartbreaking sight of her mother. Miranda Sloane-Sinclair sat on the leather sofa, her face a portrait of helpless despair.

Sophia had never seen her mother look so defeated. After her father, Godfrey, had died in that horrific car crash, the two of them had moved back to Manhattan, using the life insurance money to found Elegance Inc.

Whether it was sheer luck or the calculated “generosity” of Sebastian Windham, Elegance Inc. had skyrocketed, going public on Wall Street in just five short years. But now, the ugly truth was rearing its head. Sebastian hadn’t been helping them build an empire. He had merely been raising a golden calf—only to lead it to the slaughter. He had been fattening up *her* company for himself all along.

In a matter of days, Windham Holdings had executed a ruthless hostile takeover, snapping up nearly 30% of Elegance Inc.’s shares. The company was practically paralyzed. Its stock price was in a freefall, cash flow had dried up, and the corporate partners who once courted them were now watching from the sidelines, deliberately ignoring their calls. If she wanted to save Elegance Inc. from collapsing overnight, her only option was to beg Sebastian Windham for help. And that b*st*rd’s condition? For her to marry him.

No, wait. He had proposed that absurd arrangement two months ago. She had refused him flat-out, and this—this corporate slaughter—was the consequence of her refusal.

It wasn’t that she was blind to Sebastian’s intentions over the years. She had simply chosen to ignore them. She cared nothing for high society or corporate empires; all she craved was freedom. She had already mapped out her life: the moment she received her MBA, she was leaving Manhattan to go backpacking across Europe.

But she never could have anticipated Sebastian playing this kind of game. Using her company as leverage to force her hand. She could easily walk away and leave it all behind, but what about her mother?

Her mother claimed that Elegance Inc. was the only thing Godfrey Sinclair had left behind before his tragic end. To let it fall would be to let her mother fall with it.

Sophia might not give a d*mn about the survival of a Wall Street firm, but she cared desperately about her mother. And the only way to save her mother was to save Elegance Inc.

“Mom, please don’t look like that. I’ll figure something out…” Her voice was barely a whisper, because deep down, even she didn’t know what card left she had to play, other than surrendering to that arrogant b*st*rd’s terms.

“Didn’t you just say… you would never compromise?” Miranda Sloane-Sinclair averted her gaze. She knew her daughter’s temperament all too well. The more pressure you put on Sophia, the more she would resist. She was fiercely, inherently proud—just as Miranda had been in her youth. But now…

“Mom… just give me a little time. I’ll find a way. I promise I’ll save Elegance Inc.”

“There is only one way, and that is for you to marry Sebastian Windham.”

“Mom… don’t force me.” Sophia’s face drained of color the instant the words left her mother’s lips. She knew Miranda wasn’t joking, and she fully understood the gravity of the situation. But the thought of being legally bound to such a manipulative, calculating man made her sick to her stomach. She simply couldn’t do it.

Miranda let out a soft, weary sigh, sinking into the antique sofa across the room. “I’m not forcing you, sweetheart. It breaks my heart to think of handing you over to anyone. And while I never expected Sebastian to resort to such extreme measures, darling, have you considered the alternative? If Elegance Inc. were being devoured by some other Wall Street wolf, we’d have nothing left. At least Sebastian is offering us a lifeline. And… it’s quite obvious to me that his feelings for you are genuine.”

“Genuine feelings? If his feelings were genuine, would he use Elegance Inc. as a weapon to blackmail me? I think his endgame has always been the company, not me.” Sophia’s voice trembled with agitation.

Miranda opened her mouth to argue, but Sophia slashed her hand through the air, cutting her off. “Don’t say another word, Mom. Even if I did have feelings for him—which I don’t—his tactics have completely shattered whatever tiny sliver of goodwill I might have had left.”

Sophia couldn’t bear to continue the conversation. She turned on her heel and headed for the door. Pausing at the frame, she gripped the wood, her back still turned. “I’ll figure something out, Mom. Please, don’t panic.”

Without daring to look back at Miranda, she walked out and hurried down the grand staircase.

Milo’s Café

Annabelle “Belle” Young, sitting across the table, practically choked on her latte. She stared at Sophia with wide eyes for a solid ten seconds before shrieking, “Holy sh*t, Sophia Sinclair! Did I hear that right? Sebastian Windham wants you to *marry* him? Do you have any idea how much money that guy has? You’d be landing the ultimate billionaire sugar daddy!”

Sophia’s blood pressure spiked at her friend’s words. The mouthful of ice water she’d just sipped hovered in her throat, going up and down precariously for a long moment before she finally forced it down to her stomach instead of spitting it across the table.

“Look at you, born with a silver spoon and now this. But why would he randomly set his sights on you? I mean, you’re pretty and all, but this is Sebastian Windham we’re talking about. He’s dated supermodels and heiresses—why would he go for a naive little wallflower like you? Not to mention—”

“Stop, stop, stop!” Sophia swiveled her hea