Fall From Grace, Rise To Reign

"So what now, you don't even know what to do next?" Lainey White murmured, a daring curve to her lips.

Night had settled in, and a light drizzle traced quiet rhythms against the car windows.

She tipped his chin up with two fingers.

The man caught her wrist, his gaze turning molten.

An hour earlier.

Clutching a band, Lainey had been ready to make a commitment to her boyfriend Jeremy White-only to overhear him pouring his devotion out to his true love, Erin Carter.

That was when she finally understood that despite her status and six years of chasing the housekeeper's son, she had never claimed a place in his heart. She had only been his convenient amusement.

Six years of longing and loyalty meant nothing more than a punchline to him.

Back in the present, a crooked, bitter smile tugged at Lainey's lips.

If that was the game, then she would play her part to the end.

This would be the moment she buried every last feeling she had for Jeremy.

Outside, the rain thickened, and inside the car, shadows swayed as heat pooled.

When the heat finally ebbed, moonlight spilled through drifting clouds and scattered stars.

Lainey reached into her toppled handbag, drew out a sleek card, and slid it into the man's waistband with nimble fingers.

"Impressive work. Let's make this a standing arrangement."

As she pushed open the car door to step out, the man's hand shot out and caught her wrist.

Lainey glanced back over her shoulder, one brow arching in mild curiosity.

"What are you really after?" he asked.

With a teasing smile, she tipped his chin up again, locking eyes with him.

"Learn some self-control. Same time tomorrow."

With that, she slipped from the car without another glance, her scarlet velvet dress blazing against the dark street.

He watched her disappear, his gaze tangled with emotions he couldn't name.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Roberts. I should have noticed her getting into your car. I accept whatever punishment you decide."

A man in black bent forward in a deep bow.

Dylan Roberts pulled his eyes away, his features settling back into cold composure.

"Was that a red dress?"

"Yes, Mr. Roberts," Ian Douglas answered on reflex, his eyes widening the next second. "Sir, can you see colors again?"

Dylan's lashes lowered as he struck a match and lit a cigarette.

"No. Just her dress."

Fifteen years ago, an accident had drained the world of color for him, leaving everything in shades of gray.

As the head of the Roberts family, who steered the nation's economy, that flaw was a dangerous secret.

In spite of exhausting every option, even the world's finest eye specialists had failed him.

By some strange twist of fate, that woman had brought colors back into his vision.

If the shock hadn't stolen a heartbeat of his focus, he would never have let her come that close.

"How can that even be?" Ian whispered, disbelief threading through his voice.

Dylan stared at