Chapter 1

For twenty years, I was Preston Payne's "best friend."

Even after we got drunk and lost our virginity to each other one messy night.

All I got the next morning?

"It was just a mistake, Shea. We'll still be best friends forever, right?"

I thought he was just clueless. A cold fish. Someone who didn't know how to handle emotions.

Turns out, he fell for the maid's daughter—the daughter of my father's mistress.

And me? The "best friend"? I became the joke of the whole damn city.

My mom couldn't take it. The gossip. The whispers. The shame.

One afternoon, she jumped from the penthouse rooftop.

Twenty years of my delusional little fairy tale—gone. Just like that.

Fine. I was done with him. Time to rebuild my life.

But Preston, honey—

We're just friends, remember? So why the hell are you losing it over me hiring a few male strippers?

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Preston kicked the yacht door open just as I was dancing with a stripper in a red bikini.

The music was pumping. The lights were low.

My skin looked like fire—wild, blazing, stealing every gaze in the room.

Same untouchable face. Same ice-cold stare. But when his eyes swept over me? They went dark.

"Shea Gordon, are you finished making a spectacle of yourself?"

He stormed over, killed the music, and threw a heavy blanket over my shoulders.

I laughed and pulled the stripper closer, guiding his face toward my neck.

"Ignore him, baby. Keep going."

The guy smirked and pulled me tight, burying his face against my collarbone.

His breath hadn't even hit my skin—

Preston ripped me away so hard I almost hit the floor.

"Shea!" He was actually furious now. "Male strippers? Did you forget what day it is?!

"Oh, I remember."

I froze for a second.

Then I turned and slapped him clean across the face.

The crack echoed. My tears spilled anyway.

"Preston Payne, you don't get to lecture me. And don't you dare say my mother's name."

My mother treated Preston like her own son.

Because of me, she opened her wallet, pulled every string, and turned him from a bastard nobody cared about into the heir of the Payne empire.

And he fell for the maid's daughter instead.

For freaking Mia Jansen!

Today, I buried my mother.

And the one person in this world who had no right to scold me? Him.

Ian stepped forward, hesitant. "Actually, Shea, the funeral today was Pres—"

"Shea." Preston cut him off, his voice cold and cutting.

The face I'd been obsessed with for twenty years stared straight at me, cold as marble.

And then his words tore me apart.

"Did you forget? You're the one who barged into the Payne house and blew everything up. "

"You're the reason your mother is dead."

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