POV: Aiden King
The morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse office, casting long shadows across across the imported marble. His head throbbed despite the painkillers, a persistent reminder of last night's encounter.
"Sir, you need to see this," Gina's voice cut through his concentration as she entered without knocking, a privilege he allowed exactly three people in his life, her tablet already extended toward him with the kind of urgency that meant either a hostile takeover or a public relations disaster.
The headline screamed across the business section of three major newspapers, "Beauty Saves the Beast of Wall Street." The photos were grainy but clear enough—security footage from the alley showing a young woman standing between him and his attackers, her stance protective despite her obvious disadvantage in size and strength.
"How did they get this?" he asked, his voice carrying the kind of controlled fury that had made grown executives cry in boardrooms, though Gina had long since become immune to his moods through years of exposure and her own unshakeable competence.
"Security camera from the boutique across the street," she replied, swiping to show more coverage, social media already buzzing with speculation about the identity of his savior. "The story's gone viral. Marketing thinks it's actually good publicity—shows you as human, vulnerable, saved by an everyday hero. The stock price has actually risen two points since the market opened."
He stood abruptly, the movement sending a spike of pain through his bruised ribs that he refused to acknowledge. "Find her," he commanded without turning.
"Already did," Gina said with the efficiency that justified her astronomical salary. " Alina Maxwell. Twenty-two. Education major. Orphaned. Full scholarship. Works part-time at The Book Nook. No social media. Lives alone in Riverside."
He'd driven past Riverside once—couldn't forget how hope bloomed in the bleakest corners.
"Your grandfather has called three times," Gina continued, her tone suggesting this was the real reason for her urgency. "He wants to meet her."
Of course he did. Edward King had built his empire on recognizing opportunity where others saw only chaos, and his grandson suspected the old man would see Alina Maxwell as an opportunity of a different sort entirely—the kind that involved wedding rings and heir production and the continuation of the King dynasty. A stranger's kindness had just turned into the King family's next business proposal.
His phone rang before he could respond, his grandfather's name flashing on the screen with the kind of insistence that suggested the fourth call would be made in person if he didn't answer the third. Aiden gestured for Gina to stay, knowing he'd need her strategic mind for whatever scheme his grandfather was about to propose.
"You saw the news," Aiden said without preamble, because pleasantries were something neither King man bothered with when business was at hand.
"I did." Edward's voice carried the weight of eighty years and billions of dollars, each word carefully chosen for maximum impact. " Smart girl. Brave. Good genes. I want to meet her."
"Grandfather—"
"Don't interrupt me, boy. You know what's at stake here. The board is getting restless about your bachelor status, and that woman in Chicago isn't going to leave her career to give you heirs." The dismissal of Veronica was casual, crushing, and entirely typical of how Edward King viewed relationships—as business mergers with biological benefits.
Aiden's jaw clenched at the mention of Veronica, the woman he'd loved since business school, who understood his ambitions because she shared them, who never asked for more than he could give because she was equally consumed by her own career. Their relationship worked precisely because it demanded nothing beyond scheduled video calls and quarterly visits, a perfect arrangement that his family refused to understand.
"I'm not discussing this," he said, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew it was futile because when Edward King decided something, mountains moved to accommodate his will.
" Marry by thirty—or the board gets everything. That's the deal."
The threat hung between them like a blade, sharp and inevitable. He had plans. But the girl in the alley changed the tempo."
"Bring the girl to dinner on Sunday," Edward commanded. "I want to meet the woman who faced down three thugs for a stranger. That's the kind of courage this family needs."
The line went dead before Aiden could protest, leaving him standing at the window with Gina watching him with the kind of careful expression that meant she was already formulating plans. His reflection stared back from the glass—pale, controlled, the bruise on his forehead the only sign of last night's violence—and he wondered what Alina would think if she knew the avalanche her act of kindness had triggered.
"What do you want me to do?" Gina asked.
"Send flowers to her apartment. No card. Make sure the media doesn't find her address."
Gina made notes on her tablet with quick, efficient movements. "And Sunday dinner?"
"Won't happen," he said with more certainty than he felt. "She won't want anything to do with us once she understands what my world entails."
His phone buzzed with a message from Veronica, checking in between surgeries, and he responded with his usual brief affection, but the words felt mechanical in a way they never had before.
"There's more," Gina said, her hesitation unusual enough to capture his full attention. "The men who attacked you—they've been identified. Low-level enforcers for the Marchetti family."
The name hit him like cold water, connections firing in his mind with the speed that had made him legendary in boardrooms. The Marchetti family had been trying to muscle into his territory for months, attempting to force partnerships where none were wanted. This hadn't been random violence—it had been a message, one that Alina Maxwell had interrupted with her stubborn bravery. Saving him might've made her their next target.
"Double security on all our properties," he ordered, his mind already calculating counter-moves and strategies. "And put a discrete watch on Miss Maxwell's apartment."
"You think they'll target her?"
"I think brave fools make easy targets," he said. He wouldn't let her be collateral damage. Not for him.
Derek arrived then, his CFO's face showing the kind of stress that came from managing billions while navigating family politics and criminal threats. " Your grandfather wants to know how marriage affects our market. Derek didn't bother sugarcoating."
"Of course he does," Aiden muttered, accepting the reports Derek handed him while his mind worked through possibilities like a computer processing code. Marriage to Veronica would happen eventually, when their careers allowed, a merger of equals that made sense on every level. But his grandfather would never approve—she was too independent, too focused on her own ambitions to be the kind of wife the King dynasty demanded.
Aiden found himself considering it with the kind of cold calculation that had made him successful. A contract marriage—clean, simple, with clear terms and defined endpoints. No emotional entanglements, no disruption to his relationship with Veronica, just a business transaction that would secure his inheritance and free him from his grandfather's matchmaking.
"Set up a meeting," he heard himself say, the words seeming to come from someone else, someone who made desperate moves when cornered. "Discrete location, make it seem coincidental. I need to know if she's... suitable for such an arrangement."
Gina and Derek exchanged glances, the kind that suggested they had opinions they were too professional to voice, but both nodded and began making arrangements with the efficiency that kept his empire running smoothly. Within minutes, they had a plan—The Book Nook café where she worked, a casual encounter that would seem like chance, an opportunity to assess whether Alina Maxwell could be the solution to his inheritance problem.
He turned back to his desk, burying himself in contracts and projections that couldn't ask uncomfortable questions about what kind of man traded on gratitude and turned salvation into strategy. The morning light had shifted, casting new shadows across his office, and somewhere in the city, fate was already laughing at his careful plans, knowing that some connections couldn't be reduced to contracts and some debts couldn't be repaid with money.
But Aiden King had built his empire on controlling the uncontrollable, and he would handle Alina Maxwell the same way—with careful planning, strategic thinking, and absolutely no room for the kind of emotions that had destroyed better men than him.
After all, what could go wrong with offering a marriage contract to a woman who'd already proven she couldn't be bought?