Richmond, South West London
The morning air was damp from last night's rain, heavy with the earthy scent of grass and wet brick.
Zoey Hart's heels clicked sharply against the uneven pavement, the rhythm quick and purposeful, her planner tucked under one arm like a soldier marching to battle.
This was supposed to be the day she saw it all come together.
The silk big tent gleamed like moonlight in her mind, the champagne cart.
The orchestra guys waiting to play music to bloom into the night. She had planned,begged, and hustled for this moment.
Months of endless calls, late nights, and a lot of caffeine consumed more than a human body can take.
To prove that Zoey Hart wasn't just another small time event planner scraping by in London.
This gala was her ticket. Her chance to show the city's elite she belonged among them.
But the moment she reached the field, her mouth failed her.
The field wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare.
Dust and noise filled the air ,Caterers stood frozen, trays abandoned.
The archway she had spent the entire night perfecting was now a twisted heap of petals and metal.
Fancy Lights dangled uselessly from poles that had been ripped from the ground. And in the middle of it all, a bright yellow bulldozer was grinding across the site, flattening everything in its path.
Zoey's throat closed, Her heels shook against the pavement. She couldn't breathe.
"What the actual hell…" The whisper cracked from her lips, sharp and broken.
The sound of another section of the pavilion collapsing jerked her back , anger increased through her chest hot .
She stormed across the ruined field, voice rising.
"What the ACTUAL hell!"
The workers froze mid-motion. One of them, a broad man in his forties with a safety helmet and clipboard, squinted at her.
"You all right there, love?"
"Love?" The word sent Zoey's temper into overdrive. "You've bulldozed my event site!"
The man frowned, glancing down at his clipboard. "This lot's been cleared for redevelopment. Maddox Group order. Lease expired."
Zoey blinked once. Twice. The name was a poison on her tongue.
"Maddox Group," she hissed. "You mean Zayn Maddox?"
"Boss's name's on the order. You got a problem, take it up with him."
Zoey's jaw clenched. Oh, she would. She would take it up with him, all rightand she wouldn't be polite about it.
An Hour Later at Maddox Group Headquarters, Chelsea
The Maddox Group headquarters was exactly what she expected.
A tall black glass and chrome tower loomed over Chelsea, as if it owned the sky.
The place practically screamed power, money, and arrogance.
Zoey tightened her grip on her mud-stained dress as she pushed through the revolving doors.
The lobby gleamed with marble floors so clean she could see her reflection.
Chandeliers cast light that felt cold instead of warm, and the air smelled faintly of expensive cologne the kind of scent that lingered in boardrooms and on men who never had to fight for anything.
The receptionist smiled politely. "Good afternoon, do you have an appointment?"
"Not necessary," Zoey shot back, striding past the desk before the woman could finish her sentence.
"Miss..."
But Zoey was already stabbing the elevator button like she could break it with anger.
By the time the lift opened on the top floor, her blood was still boiling.
She marched down the hallway, her heels snapping like gunfire against polished wood.
At the end of the corridor gleamed a pair of glass double doors. The neat silver lettering across them read: ZAYN MADDOX CEO.
She didn't bother knocking. She shoved the doors open so hard they smacked against the wall.
"You arrogant man !"
The man behind the desk looked up clamly, as if she hadn't just burst in like a lunatic.
Zayn Maddox.
He was worse in person.
Dark hair tumbled carelessly over his forehead, but Zoey knew hair like that never happened by accident it was the kind of look that cost more than her monthly rent.
His shirt was black, sleeves rolled up, exposing strong forearms that looked like they could snap her desk into half. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, and those pale grey eyes, they were cold. Too cold.
Like a predator watching his prey.
"Ms. Hart," he said smoothly, "To what do I owe this dramatic entrance?"
Zoey stormed across the room, heels striking the floor . "You flattened my event site!"
Zayn set his pen down with deliberate slowness, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Technically, the lease expired. The land was ours."
Her throat tightened. "I had an event there in two days! A charity gala for children with cancer. Do you even care? Or did you just wake up and think, 'How can I ruin Zoey Hart's life today?'"
He leaned back in his leather chair, looking more amused than guilty. "I don't recall targeting you personally. But…" His smirk deepened. "If it makes you feel better, I've been told I ruin lives quite effectively."
Zoey's jaw nearly hit the floor. "You.."
He stood suddenly.
The movement was smooth, almost too smooth. His sheer height and the quiet power in the way he moved sucked the air out of the room. He didn't just walk like a man, he moved like a predator.
And it sent a strange shiver down her spine.
"I can offer you a different venue," Zayn said, his voice low.
Zoey scoffed. "I don't want your pity property, Maddox."
"Not pity," he murmured, stepping closer, the distance between them shrinking until she could feel the weight of his presence. "A mutually beneficial arrangement."
Her eyes narrowed. "What kind of arrangement?"
His gaze locked on hers, and for a moment, Zoey swore his pupils narrowed unnaturally like an animal's.
Then it was gone, leaving her wondering if her exhaustion was playing tricks on her.
"I need a fiancée," he said.
The words slammed into her like a brick. "Excuse me?"
"Temporary," he clarified, as if that explained anything. "Three months. Strictly for appearances."
Zoey let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "You bulldoze my gala and now you want me to fake date you?"
"Fake fiancée," he corrected. His voice was calm, confident, like he was offering her a business deal instead of something utterly insane. "You'd attend events with me. Meet certain people. Convince them it's real."
Her brow furrowed. "Convince who?"
"My family," he said, and for the first time, his voice faltered just slightly. "And my board."
Zoey tilted her head, studying him. "Why me? You could pay any socialite in London to hang on your arm."
Zayn's lips curved in a dangerous smile. "Because you don't worship me. You argue. You challenge me. People will believe it."
Zoey's pulse skipped despite herself. His gaze was sharp, piercing, like he could strip her down to her very thoughts.
She forced a scoff. "And what exactly do I get out of this drama?"
"Your gala," Zayn said simply. "Every detail. I'll pay for a bigger venue, better catering, twice the budget. Everything you wanted. It will happen exactly as you planned."
Zoey's heart clenched.
Months of work gone in seconds. Her career, her reputation, her dream, all riding on an event that was currently being reduced to rubble. And here was Zayn Maddox, arrogant billionaire, dangling salvation in front of her like bait.
Three months with him.
Three months pretending to be engaged to the one man she'd sworn to hate.
And yet when he
said "family," his voice had carried weight. Not simple. Not normal. Something older. Darker. Dangerous.
Something that sent a chill down her spine.
Something she wasn't ready to name.
But she would learn.
Because Zoey Hart had no idea that Zayn Maddox wasn't just London's most ruthless CEO. He was something far more dangerous.
And their bad blood was only the beginning.