Revenge Seduction: Captivating The Wall Street Monster

The water in the black marble bathtub had gone cold. Corrine Watts rested her bare arms on the edge of the tub. Her fingertips traced the surface of the water. The chill seeped into her skin, but it did nothing to numb the burning humiliation in her chest. Arron had abandoned her at the birthday party downstairs. He had left her standing there while he walked away with another woman. A faint electronic click echoed through the silent suite. The heavy walnut door of the penthouse had just unlocked. Corrine's heart slammed against her ribs. She stopped breathing. Heavy, measured footsteps crossed the living room carpet. The sound of expensive leather shoes moving closer to the bathroom. A tall, dark shadow fell across the frosted glass of the bathroom door. It blocked the light from the hallway. He was right outside. The brass doorknob turned. A large, knuckle-heavy hand pushed the door open. Cold air rushed into the steam-filled bathroom. The white mist swirled violently around the black tiles. Cassius Mayer stepped into the room. He wore a charcoal-gray tailored suit. His hand froze in mid-air, right as he was about to loosen his tie. His deep blue eyes locked onto the woman in the tub. They were the color of freezing ocean water. His pupils contracted slightly at the sudden sight of her bare shoulders. Corrine tilted her wet face upward. She looked straight at the most feared man on Wall Street through the thinning steam. She forced the corners of her mouth to curl into a provocative smile. Cassius's brow furrowed instantly. He recognized her face. This was his useless adopted son's girlfriend. A flash of pure disgust crossed his eyes. Corrine did not shrink back. Instead, she slowly stood halfway up in the tub. Water droplets slid down her pale skin. She wanted him to see her vulnerability. She wanted him to see the trap. He took a deliberate half-step back, a purely reflexive motion designed to immediately establish and enforce a strict boundary of distance. His eyes narrowed sharply, sweeping over her exposed figure not with any trace of desire, but with the freezing, clinical assessment of a hazardous problem that needed to be swiftly disposed of. Corrine stepped out of the tub. Her bare feet hit the freezing black marble floor. She walked straight toward him. "Stop right there." Cassius's voice was a low, commanding growl. It carried the heavy pressure of a man who owned everything he looked at. Corrine ignored the warning. She closed the distance. Her wet feet left dark footprints on the stone floor, erasing the safe space between them. She raised a dripping hand. Her fingertips brushed against the lapel of his suit jacket. She felt the solid heat of his chest radiating through the expensive fabric. Cassius moved faster than she could blink. His large hand clamped down on her slender wrist. His grip was bone-crushing. Corrine sucked in a sharp breath. The pain shot up her arm. But she used the momentum to lean forward, pressing her soft body against his stiff chest. Cassius's breath hitched. The sudden contact burned him. He should have shoved her away immediately. But the scent of crushed roses rose from her wet skin, and his hands hesitated for half a second. Corrine stood on her tiptoes. She brought her lips inches from his ear. "Make him regret it," she whispered. The air in the bathroom thickened. Cassius's eyes darkened to pitch black. The angle of his hand shifted. His thumb slowly, dangerously, stroked the racing pulse at her wrist. Then, a piercing sound shattered the tension. A heavy metal rock song blasted from the Hermes handbag sitting on the vanity. It was the custom ringtone Corrine had set for Arron. The noise acted like a bucket of ice water poured directly over Cassius's head. His gaze snapped to the handbag. He knew that tasteless music. It belonged to his adopted son. Cassius turned his head back to Corrine. The dark heat in his eyes vanished. It was replaced by absolute, freezing rationality. He looked at her like she was a piece of trash rotting on the sidewalk. He threw her wrist away from him. The motion was violent, filled with blatant revulsion. Corrine lost her balance. Her bare feet slipped on the wet marble. She stumbled backward, her spine hitting the hard edge of the vanity. Cassius took two steps back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pure white silk handkerchief. He slowly wiped the fingers that had just touched her skin. "You are a cheap, second-hand accessory," he stated. His Wall Street negotiation voice was flat and merciless. "Do not ever touch me again." The humiliation sliced through Corrine's chest. Her fake seductive smile died on her face. Her hands gripped the marble counter behind her so hard her knuckles turned white. Cassius dropped the handkerchief into the trash can. He turned his back on her and walked out of the bathroom.