MATURE CONTENT: 18+ This book contains mature content. Readers are advised to be at least 18+ as some themes may be inappropriate or triggering for certain audiences. --- After years of guarding her heart, Aria Vale agrees to a no-strings-attached arrangement with Elliot Blackthorne, the cold and ruthless CEO of Blackthorne Atelier, the world's leading luxury fashion house. But when Elliot's manipulative ex-fiancƩe, Selene Cross, returns to reclaim her place in his life, Aria is forced to confront her growing feelings and the man who refuses to admit his own.
Chapter 1 .
ARIA VALE
There are two kinds of people who walk into Blackthorne Atelier, those who belong there and those who never will. As I stand in the towering lobby of one of the world's most prestigious fashion houses, I wonder which category I'm about to fall into.
A woman in impossibly high heels clacks past me, her perfume lingering in the air like a cloud of judgment. I square my shoulders and tighten my grip on my leather portfolio.
Nerves churn in my stomach, but I've gotten good at hiding them. Confidence is part of the game in my line of work, and no matter how intimidating this place feels, I won't let it show.
"Ms. Vale?" The receptionist calls my name with an air of polite disinterest. She barely glances up from her computer. "Mr. Blackthorne will see you now. Top floor."
I nod, murmuring a quick thank you, and make my way to the elevator. As the doors slide open, I step inside and take a deep breath. I've walked into high-stakes meetings before. CEOs, boardrooms, billion-dollar negotiations. I've seen it all. But Elliot Blackthorne? He's in a league of his own.
Everyone in the fashion industry knows his name. At thirty-four, he's built Blackthorne Atelier into an international powerhouse, a brand synonymous with luxury, precision, and perfection.
His suits are as sharp as his reputation, impeccable, impossible to ignore, and utterly untouchable. He's the man who single-handedly saved his family's legacy and turned it into an empire, all while making headlines for his icy demeanor and the women desperate to crack his armor.
The elevator dings, and the doors open to reveal the top floor, a sprawling, glass-walled office space with panoramic views of New York City. The air smells like expensive leather and something faintly citrus. For a moment, I'm distracted by the skyline stretching out ahead of me.
For exactly three seconds, I allow myself to marvel at the view. New York City sprawls below like a glittering promise of ambition and chaos, but I don't have time to admire it. A sharp voice, smooth and commanding, cuts through the air, pulling me into the present.
"I don't care how much they're asking," Elliot Blackthorne growls, his tone clipped. "If that shipment isn't here by tomorrow, heads will roll. Do I make myself clear?"
I freeze mid-step as I take in the room. Elliot stands with his back to me, silhouetted against the wall of windows, phone pressed to his ear. Even from behind, he's a commanding figure, broad shoulders encased in a charcoal-gray suit, every inch of him exuding power.
But it's not just him that catches my attention. I quickly notice four women standing nervously off to the side, each clutching sleek black folders. Their posture varies, one fidgets with her sleeve, another bites her lower lip, but they all wear the same tense, uncertain expression. Like they're waiting to be judged.
I hesitate. Am I supposed to join them? My stomach twists at the sight of the others, consultants, assistants, interns? I don't know, but they all look as if they've been handpicked for this moment. One of them glances over at me, her gaze sharp and assessing, as though she's already sizing up the competition.
I take a slow breath, refusing to let their nerves infect me, and quietly make my way over to join them. I might not know why we're all here, but I'm not about to show weakness.
Elliot's voice rises slightly, his frustration palpable. "I don't care if the supplier's on vacation. Find him. Wake him up. Bribe him. Do whatever you have to, but if those fabrics aren't in my office by tomorrow morning, I'll pull every one of his accounts from our list."
He disconnects the call with a sharp flick of his hand, muttering something under his breath before turning toward us.
And that's when I see him....really see him.
Pictures in magazines, photoshoots in glossy editorials, and perfectly curated TV appearances did him no justice. Up close, Elliot Blackthorne is something else entirely.
His suit fits like it was stitched directly onto him, every line sharp and deliberate. His dark hair gleams under the sunlight spilling into the office, neatly styled but with just enough disarray to hint at something less controlled.
And then there are his eyes. Steely gray and piercing, they flicker across the room, pausing momentarily on me before shifting to the others. My breath hitches, just for a second, but I quickly recover, locking my expression into something neutral.
"Good. You're all here."
His voice cuts through the silence, as crisp and sharp as the edge of a blade. He steps forward, sliding his hands into his pockets with the kind of effortless confidence that takes years to perfect.
"Let me make one thing very clear," he says, his gaze sweeping over us like a spotlight. "I don't have time to waste, and neither do you. I expect results, not excuses. If you're standing in this room, it means I think you might be capable of fixing what's broken. But the truth is, most of you won't make the cut."
One of the girls shifts nervously, and Elliot's gaze lands on her. She freezes under the weight of it, her face flushing.
"Which brings me to the point," he continues, pacing slightly in front of us. "Blackthorne Atelier is on the brink of its most important merger yet. I'm not interested in half-measures or hand-holding. Whoever earns their place here will work harder than they ever have in their lives. If you're not up for that, leave now."
His words hang in the air, daring someone to step back. No one moves.
I stand tall, refusing to be intimidated. My job isn't to impress Elliot Blackthorne with charm or theatrics. I'm here because I'm damn good at what I do, and if there's anyone who can fix the chaos lurking beneath his empire, it's me.
Elliot's gaze finally settles on me. For a long moment, he says nothing, and I resist the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. It's like being pinned under a magnifying glass, hot, uncomfortable, and revealing.
He doesn't look away, as if testing my resolve.
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