The Ruined Heiress and Her Ruthless Monster

The security guards didn't drag her, but they held her arms firmly, escorting her to the elevator like a prisoner. When the doors opened in the lobby, they released her. Vivian stumbled, nearly falling onto the marble floor.

People stared. Whispers rippled through the room.

Vivian straightened her spine. She smoothed her hair. She was a Sterling. She would not cry in public.

The revolving doors spun. Conrad walked in, flanked by two assistants. He looked like he owned the place.

He saw Vivian. A cruel smile spread across his face. He stopped, blocking her path to the exit.

"Rough meeting?" Conrad laughed. "I told you, sis. Blackwood is out of your league. I'm going up to sign the consulting agreement now. It's over."

Vivian's mind raced. If Conrad went up there, if he signed that paper, she was dead in the water. She had to stop him.

She looked at Conrad. She looked at the elevator where Caleb was just stepping out, holding a file.

A lie formed on her tongue. It was reckless. It was dangerous. It was perfect.

Vivian laughed. She threw her head back and let out a throaty, amused sound. She stepped closer to Conrad, invading his personal space.

"Oh, Conrad," she purred, loud enough for the receptionists to hear. "You really think he kicked me out because of business?"

Conrad frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Vivian gestured to her messy hair and the red mark on her arm where the guard had held her. "Julian and I... we have a complicated history. He likes it rough. The restraining order? That's just foreplay."

Conrad looked disgusted. "You're lying."

"Am I?" Vivian lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Why do you think I was at his penthouse at 3 AM last night? To discuss tort law?"

Conrad hesitated. The TMZ video. It made sense.

Vivian turned to Caleb, who was walking past. "Caleb," she called out.

Caleb stopped, looking wary.

Vivian tossed her hair back, giving Caleb a look of pure, spoiled arrogance. "Tell Julian not to be so dramatic next time. He knows I bruise easily."

Caleb, trained to be the most discreet assistant in Manhattan, stiffened. He didn't confirm or deny. He simply gave a curt nod and kept walking, likely assuming she was just being her usual nightmare self.

To Conrad, that silence was confirmation.

Conrad's face turned purple. "He's sleeping with you? He's compromised."

"He's obsessed with me," Vivian corrected.

Conrad swore. "I can't trust him. If he's screwing you, he's screwing me."

He turned on his heel. "Let's go," he barked at his assistants. "We're finding another firm."

Conrad stormed out of the building.

Vivian let out a breath, her knees shaking. She had done it. She had bought herself time.

Caleb stopped by the elevator bank. He looked at Vivian. "Mr. Blackwood is watching the lobby feed," he said quietly.

Vivian looked up at the black dome of the security camera in the corner. She stared right into the lens.

Forty floors up, Julian sat at his desk, the coffee stain still on his collar. He watched the screen. He watched Vivian lie with the skill of a sociopath.

He touched the screen where her face was.

"Interesting," he murmured.