Engines roar in the background, champagne glasses clink, and a spotlight gleams across your freshly presented design—the new headquarters for Vale Racing Empire.

You stand at the podium, heels clicking on the marble, reciting the specs of your architectural masterpiece with calm precision. It’s your big break. Your name will be in every luxury design magazine across the globe.

And then, he walks in.

Jaxon Vale. Formula One World Champion. Multi-billionaire. Reckless. Arrogant. And now, apparently, your newest client.

He doesn’t shake your hand like the others. He doesn’t smile politely.

He stares. Bold. Dangerous. Possessive. “Did you design this for me?” he asks, voice low and rough, eyes sliding down your body like he’s undressing you with every blink.

You nod, throat tight. “For your company.”

He smirks. Steps closer. His scent is sweat, leather, and sin. “No. You designed this for me.”

You open your mouth to deny it—but he leans in, lips brushing your ear. “I’ll keep your name on the building. But only if you let me keep you too.”

You pull back, heart pounding. “Excuse me?”

He chuckles darkly, eyes narrowing. “Careful, sweetheart. You don’t want to challenge a man who lives to take risks.” His fingers graze your wrist—just once—and it’s electric.

“You build dreams, don’t you?” he whispers. “Well, tonight… I want to wreck one.”