The restaurant was on the top floor of a skyscraper, with windows that showed the entire city below. Elena checked her watch. Vivian was late.
"Relax, Ms. Santos," Rafael said, sipping his water. "Mrs. Carter enjoys making people wait. It's her way of showing power."
Elena forced her fingers to stop tapping the table. "I don't like wasting time."
"Neither do I." Rafael studied her with those sharp eyes. "You still haven't told me why you're really targeting the Carters."
Before she could answer, the restaurant doors opened. Vivian Carter walked in, looking exactly as Elena remembered—beautiful, elegant, and completely fake. Her blonde hair was styled perfectly, her smile practiced and cold.
Elena's heart hammered against her ribs. The woman who had poisoned her, who had watched her fall into the water, was just twenty feet away.
"Rafael, darling!" Vivian air-kissed both his cheeks. Then her eyes landed on Elena. "I wasn't aware we'd have company."
"Vivian, meet Elena Santos. She's a new business partner."
Vivian's smile remained fixed as she sat down. "What sort of business?"
"The kind that makes money," Rafael replied coolly. "Ms. Santos has some fascinating insights about your company's renewable energy division."
Elena met Vivian's eyes directly. "The division is underperforming. My clients believe it could be much more profitable under different management."
Vivian laughed, a sound that once haunted Elena's nightmares. "Our energy division isn't for sale."
"As I explained to Ms. Santos," Rafael cut in, "everything has a price."
Under the table, Elena's nails dug into her palms. This woman had tried to kill her. Had celebrated her death. And here she was, acting like royalty.
Vivian's phone buzzed. She checked it, then stood suddenly. "I'm sorry, I have to take this. Family emergency."
After she left, Elena released the breath she'd been holding.
"She didn't recognize you," Rafael said quietly.
Elena froze. "What?"
"Whoever you were to Vivian Carter before—she didn't recognize you." Rafael leaned forward. "But you know her, don't you? This isn't just business."
Elena's mind raced. Deny it? Make up a story? But something in Rafael's eyes told her he wouldn't believe lies.
"You're right," she admitted. "It's personal."
"Tell me."
Elena shook her head. "Not here."
Rafael considered her, then nodded. "My penthouse. Tonight. Eight o'clock. We'll have privacy there."
Rafael's penthouse took up the entire top floor of a luxury building. One wall was nothing but glass, offering a view of the city lights below. The furniture was sleek and modern—all black leather and brushed steel.
"Drink?" Rafael asked, moving to a bar cart.
"Whiskey. Neat." Elena perched on the edge of a chair, tense and alert.
Rafael handed her the drink, then sat across from her. "Start talking, Ms. Santos. And this time, the truth."
Elena took a long sip, letting the amber liquid burn her throat. "What do you know about Selena Carter?"
Rafael's expression darkened. "Vivian's stepdaughter. Died three years ago. Accident."
"Not an accident," Elena said. "Murder."
Rafael's eyes narrowed. "That's a serious accusation."
"Vivian, her daughter Jade, and Selena's fiancé Noah poisoned her and threw her into the water to drown." Elena's voice was steady, despite the rage boiling inside her. "They wanted her inheritance."
"And you know this how?"
Elena met his gaze directly. "Because I'm Selena Carter."
The silence that followed was deafening. Rafael didn't move, didn't blink, just stared at her with those piercing eyes.
"That's impossible," he finally said. "Selena Carter is dead."
"The world thinks she is," Elena agreed. "I survived. Changed my face, my name, everything. And I've spent three years planning how to take back what's mine."
Rafael stood and walked to the window, his back to her. "Prove it."
Elena pulled a small flash drive from her purse. "This contains DNA tests comparing Elena Santos to samples of Selena's hair from her hairbrush—retrieved by a friend who kept it after my 'death.' It also has medical records of the facial reconstruction surgery. And photos of me...before."
Rafael took the drive but didn't look at it. "Why tell me this? Why trust me with your secret?"
"Because you hate the Carters as much as I do," Elena said. "I've researched you, Rafael. For three years you've been systematically attacking their businesses. This isn't just about profit for you."
Something dark flashed across Rafael's face. "My reasons are my own."
"As are mine," Elena replied. "But together, we could destroy them completely."
Rafael turned to face her. "What exactly are you proposing?"
Elena stood and moved closer to him. "A partnership. Your business expertise and my insider knowledge. Together, we could take everything they have."
"Business partnerships are complicated," Rafael mused. "Easily broken."
"Then we'll make it more binding," Elena said boldly. "A marriage."
Rafael actually laughed—a short, surprised sound. "Marriage? You can't be serious."
"Perfectly serious," Elena insisted. "A contract marriage. One year. You get access to my information about the Carters and their businesses. I get your help taking them down. When it's over, we both walk away richer—and with our revenge complete."
Rafael studied her with new interest. "You've changed a lot from the society princess I remember."
"Dying will do that to a person," Elena said dryly.
"And what happens when Vivian eventually recognizes you?"
"She won't," Elena said confidently. "The surgeon was very thorough."
Rafael walked slowly around her, assessing. "Even if I agreed to this insane plan—which I haven't—why marriage? Why not just a business deal?"
"Because marriage gives us both access to things a business deal doesn't," Elena explained. "I'd have the Sinclair name—protection. You'd have a wife with insider knowledge of the Carter empire. And neither of us could easily walk away."
Rafael picked up his drink, considering. "One year. No real relationship. Just business."
"Just business," Elena agreed. "And when it's done, we go our separate ways."
Rafael's lips curved into a cold smile. "What makes you think I won't betray you to Vivian once I get what I want?"
"Because you'd have done it already," Elena responded. "You've been hunting the Carters for years, Rafael. I'm offering you their head on a platter."
Rafael was silent for a long moment. Finally, he extended his hand. "One year. Contract marriage. Business only."
Elena took his hand, feeling the warm strength of it. "Deal."
They shook hands, but neither let go immediately. Something electric passed between them—an understanding between two predators united against common prey.
Rafael finally released her hand. "My lawyers will draw up the contract. The wedding will be small but public—we want people to know, especially the Carters."
"How soon?"
"Two weeks," Rafael decided. "Enough time to make it look legitimate, not so long that you lose your nerve."
Elena bristled. "I won't lose my nerve."
"We'll see," Rafael said, a challenge in his voice. "Pretending to love someone you're using isn't as easy as it sounds."
"I'm an excellent actress," Elena assured him. "What about you?"
"I'm an excellent businessman," Rafael replied. "And this is just another transaction."
As Elena gathered her purse to leave, Rafael called after her. "One more thing, Ms. Santos—or should I say, Ms. Carter?"
She turned. "Yes?"
"If you betray me, I will destroy you more completely than Vivian ever could," he said softly. "Are we clear?"
Elena smiled, unfazed by the threat. "Crystal clear. And the same goes for you."
Walking to the elevator, Elena felt a strange mix of triumph and unease. She'd secured her perfect ally—ruthless, powerful, and motivated by his own hatred of the Carters.
But as the elevator doors closed, she wondered if she'd just made a deal with a man even more dangerous than the enemies she was fighting.
As for Rafael, he stood at his window long after she'd gone, the flash drive turning over in his fingers, a strange expression on his face—one that mixed calculation, interest, and something that looked almost like respect.
Neither of them realized that their perfect business arrangement was about to become far more complicated than either had planned.