Juniper’s pulse pounded in her ears as the shadow outside the office door shifted. The villa was too quiet, the usual crash of the waves against the cliffs suddenly feeling distant, muted by the suffocating silence.
She gripped her phone tighter, her body pressed against the wall. Where the hell was Adrian? The doorknob twisted. Juniper’s breath hitched. Before she could react, the door burst open, and a dark figure lunged inside. She spun away, scrambling toward the desk, her hands fumbling for anything she could use as a weapon. Her fingers wrapped around a heavy glass paperweight just as the intruder reached for her. “Don’t,” she warned, lifting the makeshift weapon. The figure hesitated. The dim moonlight filtering through the windows revealed a man dressed in black, his face partially concealed by a mask. His stance was tense, calculated. Not a burglar. Someone with a purpose. “What do you want?” she demanded, inching toward the door. The man didn’t answer. Instead, he took another step forward. Juniper gritted her teeth. “I swear, if you…” A loud crack split the air. The intruder jerked, his body going stiff before crumpling to the floor. Behind him, Adrian stood with a gun in one hand, his expression cold and lethal. “Hope I’m not interrupting,” he said. Juniper exhaled sharply, lowering the paperweight. “Took you long enough.” Adrian stepped over the unconscious man like he was nothing more than an inconvenience.“Next time, try not to text me after you break into my office.”
Juniper rolled her eyes. “Next time, try keeping your secrets in a better hiding place.” Adrian’s gaze flicked to the laptop on his desk, then back to her. His jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he knelt beside the intruder, yanking off the mask. The man was unfamiliar to Juniper, but Adrian’s expression darkened. “Damon Sinclair,” he muttered. Juniper crossed her arms. “Should I know that name?” Adrian let out a humorless laugh. “CEO of Sinclair Tech. And a royal pain in my ass.” Her stomach tightened. “Wait…you’re saying a rival CEO sent someone to break into your house?” Adrian stood, dusting off his hands. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” Juniper stared at him. “You say that like it’s normal.” “In my world, it is.” Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten. The Adrian Blackwood she knew—the arrogant, smooth-talking billionaire was untouchable. Always in control. But right now, standing over an unconscious corporate spy in his dimly lit office, there was something raw about him. Something dangerous. She exhaled, shaking her head. “You need to start explaining. Right now.” Adrian’s gaze met hers, sharp and assessing. “I don’t owe you an explanation.” Juniper took a step closer, ignoring the way her pulse quickened. “You do if I’m caught in the middle of whatever war you’re fighting.” His lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, she thought he was going to shut her out completely. Then he sighed. “Sinclair and I have a history. He wants what I have—my company, my tech, my connections. But he doesn’t play fair.” He gestured to the unconscious man. “This is just his latest attempt at screwing me over.” Juniper frowned. “And the corporate espionage accusations? Are they connected?” Adrian hesitated. Just for a second. That was all she needed. “You’re hiding something,” she said quietly. Adrian ran a hand through his hair, his usual composure cracking. “Juniper…” A groan from the floor cut him off. Damon was waking up. Adrian exhaled sharply, stepping toward the intercom panel on the wall. He pressed a button. “Evelyn, send security to my office. Now.” A crisp voice responded. “Yes, sir.” Adrian turned back to Juniper. “This conversation isn’t over.” She lifted a brow. “No, it’s not.”
Later That Night
The storm had passed, but the tension hadn’t. Juniper stood on the villa’s balcony, the warm island breeze brushing against her skin. The moon was high, casting silver light over the dark waves below. Behind her, Adrian stepped outside, holding two glasses of whiskey. He handed one to her without a word. She took it, watching him carefully. “You’re being quiet,” she said after a moment. Adrian sipped his drink, his gaze fixed on the ocean. “So are you.” Juniper exhaled. “Maybe because I’m still processing the fact that I was almost murdered over a corporate feud.” Adrian smirked. “Murdered? That’s dramatic.” She shot him a look. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have said ‘mildly inconvenienced’ instead?” His lips twitched. “Much better.” Despite herself, Juniper laughed. The moment felt… different. The usual sharp edges of their banter had softened, replaced with something warmer. Something dangerous. Adrian turned to her, his expression unreadable. “You really aren’t afraid of me, are you?” She met his gaze. “Should I be?” A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “Probably.” Juniper’s heart pounded. She should walk away. She should finish her drink, say goodnight, and pretend she didn’t feel whatever was crackling between them. But she didn’t. Instead, she stepped closer. Adrian’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening around his glass. “Juniper,” he warned. She tilted her head. “Adrian.” His breath hitched. Just slightly. That was all the confirmation she needed. She closed the remaining distance between them, placing her glass on the balcony railing before reaching for his shirt. Adrian’s control snapped. His lips crashed against hers, one hand tangling in her hair, the other gripping her waist. Juniper gasped against his mouth, the heat between them instant and electric. She had spent so much time arguing with Adrian Blackwood, challenging him, pushing his buttons. She hadn’t realized how badly she had wanted this. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, matching her own. It was intoxicating. It was reckless. And she didn’t care. She kissed him harder, losing herself in the moment, in him. For once, there were no games. No power plays. Just this. Just them.The Next Morning Juniper woke to the sound of birds outside the window, the scent of salt and citrus lingering in the air. For a moment, she lay still, replaying last night’s kiss. Then she realized something. She was alone. Frowning, she sat up, glancing around the room. Adrian was nowhere to be seen. Typical. With a sigh, she pushed the covers aside and got up. She wasn’t the type to swoon over a kiss, no matter how mind-blowing it had been. Still, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in her chest. She wandered into the villa’s main office, hoping to find some clue about where Adrian had gone. Instead, she found something else. A photograph. It was old, slightly worn, tucked inside a drawer in his desk. Juniper’s breath caught in her throat. It was a picture of her mother. She stared at it, her mind racing. Why the hell did Adrian Blackwood have a photo of a woman who had died over a decade ago? Her fingers tightened around the edges. Whatever was happening between them… It had just gotten a lot more complicated.
The Waldorf Astoria’s grand ballroom glittered with wealth and excess. Crystal chandeliers bathed the crowd in golden light, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and aged whiskey. Juniper Hale didn’t belong here. Not in this world of billionaire elites who threw charity galas to ease their guilt while hoarding wealth.But tonight, she wasn’t here to blend in. She was here for a fight.Adjusting the simple navy dress she had borrowed from a friend because unlike everyone here, she didn’t have a closet full of designer gowns. She scanned the room until she found him.Adrian Blackwood.He stood near the bar, effortlessly commanding attention. Dressed in a sleek black tux, he exuded confidence, swirling a glass of bourbon as he smirked at something his business partner said. The way he carried himself, like he owned every space he stepped into, set Juniper’s nerves on edge. He was arrogant, ruthless, and exactly the type of man who had the power to save her nonprofit.If she
Juniper sat stiffly in Adrian Blackwood’s sleek private jet, gripping the armrest harder than she cared to admit. The leather was buttery smooth under her fingertips, the scent of espresso and polished wood filling the spacious cabin.Across from her, Adrian lounged in his seat like he had not a single care in the world. His black button-down was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves casually rolled up, exposing strong forearms. He swirled a glass of bourbon as he studied her, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.She hated that mouth.“You’ve been glaring at me for the last twenty minutes,” Adrian said, voice smooth as silk. “Should I be worried?”Juniper forced a smile. “Just wondering if your ego is large enough to require its own seat.”He chuckled, deep and rich. “Touché. Though I prefer to think of it as confidence.”She scoffed. “Of course you do.”Adrian set his drink down and leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. “You’re here, Ms. Hale. Which means you’re
The storm raged on, shaking the villa with every gust of wind. Rain pounded against the windows like a relentless drumbeat, and thunder cracked so loudly that Juniper swore she felt it in her bones.She stood near the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, watching palm trees bend under the force of the hurricane. The dark ocean churned violently beyond the cliffs, waves crashing against the rocks with terrifying force.Behind her, Adrian sat on the couch, his usual smug confidence replaced with something quieter, tenser. He had barely spoken since the power went out, and that alone was unsettling.Juniper turned to him, crossing her arms. “So, is this where you admit that maybe, just maybe, you should have taken this storm more seriously?”Adrian exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you are looking for an ‘I told you so,’ you are not getting one.”She arched a brow. “I’ll take that as a silent confession.”The candlelight flickered between them, casting long shadows across
The moment the news segment ended, the air in the villa thickened with tension. The flickering light from the television cast uneven shadows across the walls, but Juniper was focused solely on Adrian.He stood near the couch, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought it might crack. His fists were curled at his sides, the tendons in his forearms visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp white shirt. He hadn’t moved since the broadcast started, but his silence was louder than any outburst.Juniper crossed her arms. “That was quite the headline,” she said, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade.Adrian didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached for the remote, his movements precise, and turned off the TV with a sharp click.“News exaggerates,” he said smoothly, but there was something too controlled about the way he said it, as if he were gripping the edges of his patience.Juniper narrowed her eyes. “Right. And you just happen to be the unfortunate billionaire caught in th
Juniper’s pulse pounded in her ears as the shadow outside the office door shifted. The villa was too quiet, the usual crash of the waves against the cliffs suddenly feeling distant, muted by the suffocating silence.She gripped her phone tighter, her body pressed against the wall. Where the hell was Adrian?The doorknob twisted.Juniper’s breath hitched.Before she could react, the door burst open, and a dark figure lunged inside.She spun away, scrambling toward the desk, her hands fumbling for anything she could use as a weapon. Her fingers wrapped around a heavy glass paperweight just as the intruder reached for her.“Don’t,” she warned, lifting the makeshift weapon.The figure hesitated. The dim moonlight filtering through the windows revealed a man dressed in black, his face partially concealed by a mask. His stance was tense, calculated.Not a burglar. Someone with a purpose.“What do you want?” she demanded, inching toward the door.The man didn’t answer. Instead, he took anoth
The moment the news segment ended, the air in the villa thickened with tension. The flickering light from the television cast uneven shadows across the walls, but Juniper was focused solely on Adrian.He stood near the couch, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought it might crack. His fists were curled at his sides, the tendons in his forearms visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp white shirt. He hadn’t moved since the broadcast started, but his silence was louder than any outburst.Juniper crossed her arms. “That was quite the headline,” she said, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade.Adrian didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached for the remote, his movements precise, and turned off the TV with a sharp click.“News exaggerates,” he said smoothly, but there was something too controlled about the way he said it, as if he were gripping the edges of his patience.Juniper narrowed her eyes. “Right. And you just happen to be the unfortunate billionaire caught in th
The storm raged on, shaking the villa with every gust of wind. Rain pounded against the windows like a relentless drumbeat, and thunder cracked so loudly that Juniper swore she felt it in her bones.She stood near the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, watching palm trees bend under the force of the hurricane. The dark ocean churned violently beyond the cliffs, waves crashing against the rocks with terrifying force.Behind her, Adrian sat on the couch, his usual smug confidence replaced with something quieter, tenser. He had barely spoken since the power went out, and that alone was unsettling.Juniper turned to him, crossing her arms. “So, is this where you admit that maybe, just maybe, you should have taken this storm more seriously?”Adrian exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you are looking for an ‘I told you so,’ you are not getting one.”She arched a brow. “I’ll take that as a silent confession.”The candlelight flickered between them, casting long shadows across
Juniper sat stiffly in Adrian Blackwood’s sleek private jet, gripping the armrest harder than she cared to admit. The leather was buttery smooth under her fingertips, the scent of espresso and polished wood filling the spacious cabin.Across from her, Adrian lounged in his seat like he had not a single care in the world. His black button-down was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves casually rolled up, exposing strong forearms. He swirled a glass of bourbon as he studied her, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.She hated that mouth.“You’ve been glaring at me for the last twenty minutes,” Adrian said, voice smooth as silk. “Should I be worried?”Juniper forced a smile. “Just wondering if your ego is large enough to require its own seat.”He chuckled, deep and rich. “Touché. Though I prefer to think of it as confidence.”She scoffed. “Of course you do.”Adrian set his drink down and leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. “You’re here, Ms. Hale. Which means you’re
The Waldorf Astoria’s grand ballroom glittered with wealth and excess. Crystal chandeliers bathed the crowd in golden light, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and aged whiskey. Juniper Hale didn’t belong here. Not in this world of billionaire elites who threw charity galas to ease their guilt while hoarding wealth.But tonight, she wasn’t here to blend in. She was here for a fight.Adjusting the simple navy dress she had borrowed from a friend because unlike everyone here, she didn’t have a closet full of designer gowns. She scanned the room until she found him.Adrian Blackwood.He stood near the bar, effortlessly commanding attention. Dressed in a sleek black tux, he exuded confidence, swirling a glass of bourbon as he smirked at something his business partner said. The way he carried himself, like he owned every space he stepped into, set Juniper’s nerves on edge. He was arrogant, ruthless, and exactly the type of man who had the power to save her nonprofit.If she