Chapter 3

At 8:50 the next morning, I stood in front of the revolving doors of Gray Group's headquarters.

The glass tower rose eighty-eight stories into the financial district skyline like a blade. It was the kind of building that didn't just show power. It enforced it.

I stepped inside.

And instantly became the rare animal everyone wanted to stare at.

Executives in custom suits. Security guards with radios. Junior staff with coffee cups in their hands.

Every single one of them looked me up and down with the same feverish curiosity.

Pity.

Disdain.

Glee.

And above all, gossip.

"That's her. The Blake girl they sent to please the Gray family."

"She looks so cheap. The whole outfit probably costs less than two hundred bucks."

"Didn't you hear? After the accident, Mr. Gray couldn't walk and got violent. The Blakes sent her in as a sacrifice."

"Why is she even here? To fight for inheritance?"

"Who knows? Maybe she's here to show off. She's technically Mrs. Gray, after all."

Their voices swarmed around me like flies.

I lowered my head and gripped the worn strap of my canvas bag so tightly my nails dug into my palm.

I regretted coming.

I'd rather deal with the icy servants at the estate than stand here and get stared at like a sideshow.

"Excuse me. Are you Miss Ava Blake?"

A bright voice cut through the whispers.

I looked up and saw a young receptionist with a round face, big eyes, and a neat little bun. Her name tag read Maya Riley.

She was the only person in the lobby who wasn't looking at me for entertainment.

"I am."

"Mr. Gray left instructions. Please wait in the VIP lounge. Serena Holt will be down shortly to get you."

She pointed toward a quiet, luxurious seating area half hidden by tall plants.

I nodded and hurried over, grateful for the chance to disappear.

A few minutes later, Maya brought me a steaming cup of tea and set it on the table in front of me. She glanced around to make sure no one was near enough to hear, then leaned closer.

"Miss Blake..." she whispered. "Were you really forced into this? Everyone says you're the family's scapegoat."

My fingers tightened around the tea cup.

Something in me softened at the concern in her eyes.

In this steel-and-glass jungle, she was the first warm thing I had seen.

I didn't answer directly. I only smiled at her in thanks.

But from that moment on, I filed Maya Riley away under one category in my head.

Safe.

Then the private elevator chimed.

The first thing to step out was a pair of custom high heels covered in crystals and easily four inches tall. Their sharp clicks on marble were elegant and aggressive at once.

Then came the woman wearing them.

Tall. Stunning. Flawlessly made up. Wrapped in a perfectly fitted Armani suit that looked less like clothing and more like armor.

I recognized her immediately.

Serena Holt.

Ethan Gray's chief secretary. The real power behind his executive office.

I had searched the core leadership team the night before. Serena Holt was widely known as Ethan's right hand.

She walked toward me in a cloud of expensive perfume and stopped just in front of my chair.

"Mrs. Gray," she said with a polished smile that held no warmth at all. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

She put deliberate pressure on the title.

I rose to my feet and met her gaze.

"Not long, Ms. Holt."

"No need to be formal." Her smile only sharpened. Her eyes skimmed over my cheap clothes like a knife. "Mr. Gray has decided you'll be joining the executive office. That makes us coworkers now. Come on. I'll take you upstairs. And along the way..."

She paused.

"I'll teach you the rules."

I followed her into the private elevator.

In that tight space, the perfume almost suffocated me.

As the elevator climbed, Serena looked at my reflection in the mirrored doors.

"That position as Mrs. Gray was never really meant for you."

My stomach dropped.

She turned to look at me directly.

"When your sister Isabella Blake used to come to the office, Mr. Gray spoiled her. He let her near major projects. Too bad she had standards. She had no interest in a man in a wheelchair. Lucky for you, I guess. You ended up with what she threw away."

The pity in her voice was pure poison.

The elevator doors opened on the top floor.

Under the bright lights, I could see the contempt in Serena Holt's eyes perfectly clearly.

That wasn't just a warning.

It was a declaration of war.