The marble lobby of Voss Tower felt colder than the rain outside.
Elena Marquez stepped through the revolving doors, shaking droplets from her coat, her pulse hammering despite her calm expression. Around her, executives in tailored suits moved with purpose, assistants hurried across polished floors, and security guards watched everyone with quiet suspicion.
Power lived here.
And today, she needed to beg it for mercy.
She tightened her grip on the folder against her chest. Inside were proposals, restructuring plans, investment forecasts—every possible argument she could craft to keep Marquez Holdings alive.
Her father's company.
Her family's legacy.
Now hanging by a thread.
Her phone buzzed.
Papa.
She hesitated before answering.
"Elena?" Victor Marquez's voice sounded older these days, thinner. Stress had carved deep lines into him in only months.
"I'm here," she said softly. "Meeting starts in ten minutes."
A heavy sigh followed. "You don't have to do this. Let the company fall. I'll handle it."
Her jaw tightened.
"You've handled enough."
Silence.
Both of them knew the truth.
Her father was drowning in lawsuits, debts, and accusations he still claimed were lies. Investors abandoned them. Banks demanded repayment. Employees feared layoffs.
And now only one man held the power to save them.
Adrian Voss.
"Elena…" her father began, guilt thick in his voice. "If Voss humiliates you, walk away. Don't let him—"
"I can handle businessmen," she interrupted gently.
She wished she believed that.
They hung up, and Elena exhaled slowly.
A receptionist approached. "Miss Marquez? Mr. Voss is expecting you."
The elevator ride felt endless.
Glass walls revealed the sprawling city below as they climbed higher and higher, until even the traffic noise disappeared.
Only silence remained.
The assistant escorted her to double doors.
"Mr. Voss will see you now."
The doors opened.
Elena stepped inside.
And stopped.
The office was enormous, minimalist, intimidating. Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed the city like a conquered kingdom. Dark furniture, steel accents, no personal touches.
A war room disguised as luxury.
And at the center of it all stood Adrian Voss.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Tailored black suit fitting like armor. One hand in his pocket as he studied something on his tablet.
He looked up.
Their eyes met.
A strange chill slid down Elena's spine.
She'd seen photos, interviews, magazine covers—but none captured the intensity of his gaze.
He looked at people like assets.
Or threats.
Nothing in between.
"Miss Marquez," he said evenly.
No smile.
No welcome.
Just acknowledgment.
She forced confidence into her voice. "Mr. Voss. Thank you for meeting me."
He gestured to the chair across from his desk.
"Sit."
No politeness. Just command.
Elena sat, placing her documents neatly in front of her.
Adrian didn't sit immediately. Instead, he walked slowly around the desk, studying her as if assessing merchandise.
It made her skin prickle.
Finally, he sat, steepling his fingers.
"You want money," he said.
Straight to the point.
She inhaled. "Investment. Partnership. Restructuring support—"
"You want rescue."
Heat climbed her neck, but she held his gaze. "My company employs three thousand people. Families depend on it."
He leaned back, unimpressed.
"And why," he asked coolly, "should I care?"
Because you're human, she wanted to say.
Instead: "Because there's profit in saving us. We still have valuable assets, strong logistics networks—"
He cut her off.
"You're bankrupt."
The bluntness stunned her silent.
Adrian slid a tablet across the desk. Charts, debt reports, loan defaults filled the screen.
"I own sixty percent of your company's debt," he continued. "Within two weeks, I can legally dismantle everything your father built."
The words felt like ice water poured over her.
"You… own our debt?"
"Yes."
Her mind raced.
So this meeting wasn't negotiation.
It was execution.
She swallowed. "Then why invite me?"
Something dark flickered in his eyes.
Because the kill was more satisfying when personal.
But what he said was:
"Because I'm offering you a solution."
Hope flared inside her chest.
"What solution?"
Adrian opened a drawer and withdrew a thin black folder.
The same one he'd stared at the night before.
He placed it carefully on the desk and pushed it toward her.
"Read."
Confusion creased her brow as she opened it.
Then her breath caught.
The words blurred.
Marriage Agreement.
Her hands trembled.
She looked up, certain she'd misunderstood.
"You're joking."
Adrian's expression didn't change.
"I never joke in business."
The room seemed to tilt.
"You want…" Her voice faltered. "You want me to marry you?"
"Yes."
Her mind rejected the idea instantly.
"This is insane."
"In exchange," he continued calmly, "I absorb your company's debt, stabilize operations, and keep your father out of prison."
Silence crushed the room.
Elena stared at him, heart pounding violently.
This wasn't negotiation.
It was blackmail dressed as opportunity.
"You're using my family," she whispered.
Adrian met her gaze without remorse.
"Yes."
The cruelty in his honesty hurt more than lies.
Her throat tightened. "Why?"
A beat passed.
Then his voice turned colder.
"Because your father destroyed mine."
The revelation hung between them.
Elena's breath faltered.
She remembered vague headlines years ago. Corporate scandals. A suicide. Competing companies.
But her father always said it wasn't their fault.
She searched Adrian's face for doubt.
Found none.
"So," he finished, "you'll pay the debt."
Shock, anger, fear tangled inside her chest.
"Marriage isn't payment," she said hoarsely.
"For you," Adrian replied, "it is."
Silence stretched.
The ticking clock sounded deafening.
Her father's exhausted voice echoed in her mind.
Employees losing jobs.
Their home seized.
Her family destroyed.
All she had to do…
…was marry a stranger who clearly despised her.
Elena closed the folder slowly.
And for the first time since entering the building, fear truly settled in her bones.
Because Adrian Voss looked like a man who would keep every cruel promise.
And she had just walked into his trap.