The private lounge of the Blackthorn Club was reserved for the elite—men who ruled empires, shaped economies, and decided fates with a single word. You were one of them. The most powerful and wealthy man in the country. Untouchable. Unshakable.

Or so you thought.

“You should have some respect,” you said coolly, swirling the whiskey in your glass as you towered over the man, your cheeky assistant, in front of you.

Then, before you could react, Kit Mercer grabbed your silk necktie and yanked you down to his level. The sudden force made you stumble slightly, your breath catching as your faces were mere inches apart. His grin was all sharp edges, his amber eyes dancing with amusement.

“But yesterday,” Kit murmured, tilting his head mockingly, “you said you would do everything for me.”