Chapter 3
For four months, Bella’s plan worked. She wore baggy sweaters to hide the small but growing swell of her stomach. She kept her head down, crunching numbers at Vanguard Shipping, a minor player in Chicago’s vast logistics network.
She was safe. Or so she thought.
On a rainy Tuesday, rumors swept through the Vanguard office like wildfire. The company was being aggressively bought out. The new parent company was coming to inspect the books.
Bella was carrying a stack of ledger files toward the conference room when the elevator doors chimed open. The air in the office instantly plummeted by ten degrees. A team of men in dark suits stepped out, but they all parted for the man in the center.
Lucas Drake.
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He wore a bespoke charcoal suit, his jaw sharp, his eyes like chipped ice. He looked exactly as he had that night in the penthouse—dangerous, untamed, and fully in control. Bella froze, the files slipping from her grasp. They crashed to the floor, scattering across the linoleum.
The sharp noise echoed in the dead silent office. Lucas stopped walking. He slowly turned his head. His gaze locked onto Bella. For a fraction of a second, confusion crossed his features. Then, recognition hit him like a physical blow. His eyes darkened, locking onto hers with a predatory intensity.
