Too Late, I Am The Real Heiress

The heavy clatter of the Patek Philippe against the mahogany bar turned heads. Across the lounge, a man in a tight suit separated himself from the group of Wall Street executives. His face was flushed with alcohol, his tie loosened around a thick neck. He walked toward Adeline, his eyes fixed on the sliver of skin visible above her trench coat collar. He leaned against the bar, invading her personal space. He slid a thick, embossed business card across the wood until it bumped against her glass. It listed him as a managing director at a hedge fund. Adeline did not blink. She did not look at his face. She lifted her right hand, pinched the edge of the business card between two fingers, and dropped it directly into the small brass trash bin behind the counter. The man's face turned a mottled purple. The veins in his forehead bulged. "You stuck-up bitch," he hissed. He reached out, his thick fingers hooking into the shoulder of her trench coat, ready to yank her off the stool. Adeline shifted her weight, her muscles tensing to drive her elbow into his ribs. Before she could move, a large hand clamped down on the man's wrist. The grip was brutal. The man let out a sharp, breathless yelp as his bones ground together under the pressure. Adeline looked up. The hand belonged to a man standing just behind her left shoulder. He wore a dark, unstructured dress shirt, the top two buttons undone. A Richard Mille watch peeked out from his cuff. His jawline was sharp, his dark eyes radiating a terrifying, absolute coldness. It was Cade Kramer. Adeline's stomach did a slow flip. Cade was the phantom billionaire Evan spent half his life trying to impress. Cade twisted his wrist a fraction of an inch. The hedge fund manager dropped to his knees, his face slick with sudden sweat. "Walk," Cade said. His voice was low, a dark rumble that vibrated over the jazz music. The man scrambled up and practically ran back to his booth, clutching his wrist against his chest. Cade let go. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a dark gray silk handkerchief, and wiped his fingers. He tossed the silk onto the bar, a silent declaration that the man he just touched was filth. Cade's eyes dropped to the bar. He stared at the Patek Philippe resting next to Adeline's glass. He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slow, dangerous smirk. He pulled out the stool next to her and sat down. He crossed his long legs, his knee brushing against the fabric of her coat. "That is Evan's watch," Cade stated. It was not a question. Adeline picked up her glass. The alcohol had sent a flush of heat to her cheeks, but her mind was razor-sharp. She took a sip, letting the silence stretch. "Are you here to defend your friend's honor?" she asked, her voice smooth. Cade let out a dry, rough laugh. He signaled the bartender for a whiskey. "I do not care if Evan chokes on his own ambition. I am just curious how his favorite toy ended up on the bar next to you." Adeline turned on her stool. She leaned in, closing the physical gap between them. The scent of her cold cedar perfume mixed with the sharp smell of his whiskey. "I stole it," Adeline whispered, her tone laced with a dark, teasing edge. Cade's eyes darkened. The pupil swallowed the iris. He did not pull back. He leaned closer, his chest almost touching hers. Adeline's eyes dropped to the exposed skin at his collar. The pulse in his neck was beating a steady, heavy rhythm. A reckless idea sparked in her brain. Evan feared this man. Evan worshipped this man. Adeline lifted her hand. She extended her index finger and traced the edge of Cade's collar. Her nail lightly scraped against his warm skin. Cade's breath hitched. The muscles in his shoulders instantly locked. He stared down at her hand, then back up to her eyes, tracking her like a predator deciding whether to bite. "Are you bored, Mr. Kramer?" Adeline murmured, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Do you want to play a game?" Cade's hand shot up. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, halting her movement. His thumb rubbed roughly over her knuckles. "Playing with fire will get you burned," Cade warned, his voice dropping an octave. Adeline stared straight into his dark eyes. She twisted her wrist, breaking his grip with a sharp pull. "I was born in the fire." The air between them thickened, heavy with static. A sharp buzzing sound shattered the tension. Cade's phone vibrated against the mahogany bar. The screen lit up. Evan's name flashed in bright white letters. Cade looked at the screen. He looked at Adeline. A slow, predatory grin spread across his face. He tapped the screen and hit the speaker button. "Cade!" Evan's voice blasted through the speaker, frantic and breathless. "Adeline lost her mind. She assaulted me. She took my watch and two hundred grand from the safe. You have to help me find her." Adeline's eyes turned to ice. She reached out and grabbed the condensation-slicked glass of ice water sitting next to Cade's whiskey. She tilted the glass. Three freezing drops of water fell directly onto the inner thigh of Cade's dark trousers. Cade sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. A deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat. The sound echoed perfectly through the phone's microphone. Evan went dead silent on the other end. "Cade? Did I... did I interrupt something?" Cade stared at Adeline. She was smiling at him, her eyes dancing with wicked delight. Cade leaned down toward the phone, his eyes never leaving hers. "You did." He tapped the screen, ending the call. He held the power button down until the screen went black. He tossed the dead phone onto the bar.