Chapter One

Sienna

There was a reason I hated boardrooms. It wasn't the polished walnut tables, the leather chairs worth more than my first apartment, or the floor-to-ceiling windows pretending that money somehow made the city look prettier. It was the people. Mostly the men. Men who walked into meetings believing their tailored suits automatically made them the smartest person in the room. Men who interrupted before you finished a sentence. Men who mistook confidence for competence and volume for authority. Men who called women sweetheart before asking for quarterly projections.

Bossy people exhausted me.

I'd spent too many years proving I deserved a seat at tables like this one only to have someone try to explain my own company back to me. Never again. That promise had become my favorite habit.

Three years ago, BrooksWell had existed inside my tiny apartment as scribbles on sticky notes and an old laptop that overheated every forty minutes. I survived on instant noodles, caffeine, and the delusion that one day investors would stop calling my business "a cute little passion project."

Then users came. Then more users. Then headlines. Then venture capitalists who suddenly remembered my phone number. Funny how success made people forget they'd once laughed at you. Now BrooksWell occupied three floors of a glass building overlooking downtown Chicago, employed over two hundred people, and had just crossed ten million active users.

Every achievement had my fingerprints on it. I hadn't inherited this company. I hadn't married into it. I hadn't stumbled into it. I'd bled for it. Which meant I wasn't about to let anyone tell me how to run it.

"Deep breaths." Naomi appeared beside me as the elevator doors slid open onto the executive floor.

She balanced a tablet against her hip while looking annoyingly composed in a charcoal pantsuit.

"You're glaring."

"I'm thinking."

"Your thinking face looks like you're planning a murder."

"I'm weighing my options."

She laughed. "I've worked with you for six years. I know that look."

I adjusted the cuff of my ivory blazer. "Tell me again who's coming."

Naomi glanced at her notes. "The board."

"I know that."

"The investment committee from Weston Capital."

"I know that too."

She hesitated. "...And their legal counsel."

I sighed. "There it is." "The scary one."

"I never said scary."

"You didn't have to."

She grinned. "The rumors are interesting."

"I don't care about rumors."

"Apparently he negotiated a six-billion-dollar acquisition without raising his voice once."

"My condolences to everyone involved."

"He wins almost every case."

"I'm not hiring him."

"He isn't applying."

"Exactly."

Naomi nudged my shoulder. "Just don't bite him."

"No promises."

She lowered her voice. "His name is Caiden Wyatt."

The name meant nothing to me. Good. People who built reputations often expected everyone else to worship them. I preferred disappointing expectations.

The conference room doors stood open. Inside, the board was already gathering. Conversations drifted between coffee cups and expensive watches. Laptops glowed across the table while assistants hurried around distributing revised agendas. Then my eyes landed on him.

He sat across from the empty chair waiting for me.

Of course he did. Because apparently the universe enjoyed dramatic entrances. Tall. Dark navy suit. White shirt. No tie. His jacket rested neatly over the back of his chair as if wrinkles personally offended him.

One hand tapped quietly against a leather folder while the other cradled a porcelain coffee cup.

He wasn't looking around the room. He wasn't checking his phone. He wasn't trying to impress anyone. He simply obbserved. Like everyone else existed inside a puzzle he'd already solved. Someone said something beside him. He answered with a slight nod. Calm, collected and infuriating.

Then his eyes lifted. Green. Not bright green. The kind of deep forest green that stayed unreadable no matter how long you looked. They met mine. Didn't wander. Didn't flicker. Didn't perform the usual once-over so many men mistook for confidence. They simply held for three seconds or maybe four. Long enough for me to realize he wasn't looking at my dress. He was studying me, evaluating, judging. I hated that more. A slow smile ghosted across his mouth. Not warm or flirtatious or professional or measured.

As though he'd already formed an opinion.

Well, he could keep it.

I walked toward my seat without breaking eye contact. Every pair of eyes in the room shifted between us. Interesting. Either everyone knew who he was or everyone expected something to happen. I placed my leather portfolio on the table.

"My seat?"I asked the assistant standing nearby.

She nodded. "Yes, Ms. Brooks."

Convenient. I pulled out my chair.

"So." I looked at Naomi before deliberately looking back at the stranger. "You must be legal."

One corner of his mouth lifted.

"And you must be the CEO."

His voice was lower than I expected.

Smooth and controlled. The kind of voice that probably convinced people to sign things they hadn't read.

"I am."

He extended a hand across the table. "Caiden Wyatt."

I looked at it. Strong fingers with neatly trimmed nails. Expensive watch. Confidence wrapped in perfect manners. I didn't take it. Instead I leaned back in my chair. "Sienna Brooks."

His hand remained suspended for one impossible second before he withdrew it without so much as blinking.

Interesting. He did not seem offended or embarrassed, just...adjusting.

"I've heard impressive things about your company," he said.

"I wish I could say the same."

Naomi kicked my ankle beneath the table.Hard.

I ignored her.

Caiden's expression didn't change. "I'm sure you will."

There it was. The confidence. Not loud or arrogant but somehow worse. Quiet certainty. The kind that assumed the room would eventually agree with him. I disliked him immediately.

The chairman entered, calling everyone to attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming."

Chairs scraped against polished floors. The projector flickered to life. As the meeting officially began, I caught Caiden watching me once more. Not my face or my smile. My reactions. He was reading me before a single negotiation had started. Fine. Let him read.

He was about to discover that I wasn't one of his contracts. I didn't bend. And I certainly didn't break.

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