Chapter 2 - The Price of a SignatureIsabel's face turned the color of spoiled milk.

— I... I didn't know, Isabel gasped, clutching the edge of her window frame, her manicured nails digging so hard into the rubber seal that the paint began to flake. — She ran off, Mr. Carranza. She’s unstable. She ruined a very delicate negotiation—

— A negotiation you scheduled using my name as bait, Matthew interrupted, his tone as sharp as a razor blade. — You told Mr. Ambrose that my corporate backing depended entirely on what happened behind closed doors tonight. Am I correct?

Elena gasped, turning her head to stare at Matthew. Corporate backing? Ambrose? Her stepmother hadn't just been selling her to a dirty business partner; she had been trying to buy out Matthew Carranza’s multi-billion-dollar empire using Elena's body as the final currency.

— It was a misunderstanding! Isabel shrieked, the rain drenching her expensive silk blouse as she leaned further out of the window. — Elena is family! She belongs to us!

— She belongs to no one, Matthew said coldly. — And as of five minutes ago, your company’s line of credit with Carranza Enterprises has officially been revoked.

Isabel let out a sound like a wounded animal.

— No! You can’t do that! You’ll ruin us! We have contracts!

— Contracts can be rewritten, Matthew replied, raising a single finger. — Just like ownership.

Before Isabel could scream another word, Matthew pressed a button on his door panel. His window slid shut with a heavy, airtight thud, sealing out the storm, the rain, and Isabel’s hysterical shrieks.

The black car surged forward, leaving the SUV spinning uselessly in the middle of the dark highway as the driver tried to execute a frantic, clumsy U-turn in the mud.

Elena sat frozen in the corner of the back seat, the heavy wool of Matthew’s coat still draped over her shoulders. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She looked sideways at the man who had just dismantled her stepmother’s entire financial foundation with a single sentence.

— Who are you? she breathed, her voice barely a whisper above the hum of the engine.

May you like

His chest tightened, a sharp, cold panic piercing through the expensive...

The silence of the boutique hotel room was a heavy, suffocating blanket....

The silence stretched for three agonizing seconds before I found my voic...

Matthew turned his head slowly, his dark eyes fixing on hers in the dim dashboard light.

— My name is Matthew Carranza, he said quietly. — And you, Elena Vargas, just walked right into the middle of a war zone.