Chapter 3: The First Crack
The crimson silk made her dark skin glow like she’d been dipped in sunset.
The diamonds at her throat caught the light with every breath.
But it was her eyes that held something new tonight.
Those warm brown eyes that had looked at him with patience and understanding through countless late nights and impossible deadlines.
Distance.
“Ms. Hayes,” he said, his voice perfectly professional.
“You look different.”
Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Thank you, Mr. Blackwell. Marcus was kind enough to invite me as his guest tonight. I hope you don’t mind that I accepted. It is a Saturday, after all.”
Mr. Blackwell.
Not Jordan, which she called him in the office when they were alone. Working until midnight on presentations that would make or break nine-figure deals.
Mr. Blackwell, like he was just another stranger in a ten-thousand-dollar suit.
“Of course not,” Jordan said smoothly.
“Though I’m surprised Marcus here knows what the word ‘kind’ means. Last I checked, he was busy trying to undercut our bid on the Riverside project.”
Marcus’s smile sharpened.
“Competition keeps us honest, old friend. Besides, I’ve recently discovered that investing in exceptional talent is far more valuable than any real estate deal. Martina has opened my eyes to several opportunities I’d been blind to.”
The way Marcus said her name.
Familiar. Possessive. Intimate.
Something dark and primitive unfurled in Jordan’s chest.
“How long have you two known each other?”
The question came out harder than he intended.
Martina met his gaze directly. For the first time in five years, Jordan saw something in her eyes he’d never seen before.
Defiance.
“We met six weeks ago at the Cornerstone Foundation benefit dinner,” she said calmly.
“You sent me in your place because you had that merger meeting in London. Marcus and I discovered we have quite a lot in common.”
Six weeks.
She’d been seeing Marcus Ashford for six weeks.
And Jordan had been completely oblivious.
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