CRESSIDA MADDEN.

What the hell was she doing in my territory? This was the last place she wanted to be. What was Armand up to now?

I hated puzzles, especially if it was dished by my enemy, and most especially if it came in this form — a beautiful, young woman.

“Sir?” My secretary, Georgia, was waiting on the other line for my approval.

“Send her up on my private car.”

I’d called security to focus several cams on her. Within seconds, Cressida Madden filled every single one of the screens projected on the frosted glass wall of my office.

She entered the private elevator that would take her straight to my floor. She leaned on the glass wall. Her face lifted to look at the camera.

I touched the tablet screen to zoom a cam on her face.

Now she’d captured my eyes, held it, and I couldn’t look away.

She seemed to know I was watching her.

What was that look in her eyes? Defiance? A challenge?

I studied her face as the seconds ticked by.

She was quite beautiful. Quite young, too.

I loosened my tie a bit. My throat had gone dry. I felt hot when the temperature was cool in my office.

A tension was developing at the pit of my belly.

No. I refused to acknowledge THAT.

But it only manifested itself stronger as I tried to deny it.

I was getting hard. Harder with every heartbeat.

I was aghast.

What the hell…?!

The kid was pretty, all right, but to be thinking about her in that tangent? Laughable.

NO!

What caused that? I had no fucking idea. Maybe the fact that Armand’s daughter was here to see me kind of excited me a bit? I always got horny whenever I was plotting a takeover or after I’d sealed a deal. Mostly a passing feeling that I’d learned to curb and ignore. There were separate times for business and pleasure. I’d never mixed them.

The Magnus Rutledge scam was exposed six months ago. Three billion dollars of my money were invested by Madden Securities in Rutledge Capital, a once solid, reputed institution in Wall Street for almost three decades. But Rutledge had been dabbling in a well-orchestrated mega-Ponzi scheme totaling in 50-billion dollars worth of defrauded investments, one of the biggest in the history of Wall Street.

I hadn’t even sniffed it. None of my fellow investors did. The man was a fucking genius and had been operating well under the radar for almost a decade, until his modus was outed by a disgruntled employee. The FBI came in fast and Magnus Rutledge’s empire came crashing down like the Twin Towers. He was arrested and had been the notorious star in the prime time news since.

Armand claimed he was a victim of Magnus, just like the other hedge fund companies who invested heavily in Magnus’ company. Armand still adamantly insisted on his innocence despite the overwhelming evidence against him, and intended to battle it through to the bitter end. I didn’t buy that bullshit one bit. Armand was as guilty as Magnus. They cooked this scam together, the scumbags.

Armand was still harboring some hope that he could survive this clusterfuck he was in and go back to running his company. Fat chance. I’d learned long ago to turn every setback into an opportunity. I had a golden opportunity here.

Madden Securities was at my fingertips, thanks to that sonofabitch Rutledge who unwittingly did the bloody work for me.

So, Armand was playing a new strategy. What did the fucker hope to accomplish by sending his daughter here?

I’d find out in a few minutes.

I knew he was handsome before I met him. His face was always on the pages of the rags and business magazines. He even made the Time cover. Bloomberg was always featuring his gorgeous face, sometimes side by side with my father’s. But nothing had prepared me for Joshua Landis III in person.

Piercing frosted-blue eyes, tall, well-built body. He was big and he looked solid, formidable and unyielding.

Ruthless.

Our eyes met in a collision of destinies.

What a fancy way to describe the feeling. But it was happening, all right. He impacted me like a bolt of cosmic energy striking my entire frame, and I was locked in the confines of his electric-blue gaze, losing concept of time and space.

When he finally broke the visual spell by asking me to take a seat, I was left weak and floundering, lost in the middle of his Fifth Avenue office thrice the size of my father’s.

I didn’t take a seat. I stood straight with my head held high, mustering all my strength to accomplish what I came here for.

“Mr. Landis, I’m Cressida Madden, Armand Madden’s only child.”

He stood there, staring at me, an inscrutable look on his face. He was so imposing, so imperious and sophisticated in his dark suit, every bit the powerful billionaire that he was, every inch the predator slowly devouring my entire family’s future.

My future.

I came to conquer this predator. If it was the last thing I would do, I would. He may be a giant in the business world but Goliath was felled by David with a single blow, wasn’t he?

He slowly sat behind his massive desk, one made of hard wood and carved intricately by a master sculptor, no doubt. The Landis emblem at the front was a mockery reminding me that he came from old money.

The Madden name was not old, but it was no less sterling and esteemed. My father was a self-made man and had received the Man of the Year award for his benevolence in charity. It was just so ironic that he was facing the indictment of the decade, next to Rutledge.

“To what do I owe this visit, Ms. Madden?” He spoke with the most refined accent. A bit British. Understandably so as he studied at Oxford University, according to my research.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here.” It was strange how we hadn’t met all these years in all the galas I’d attended and the parties my parents threw for their business associates. Joshua didn’t socialize much, or at least he didn’t do it in my circle. Still, the paparazzi managed to catch him in some event with a beautiful woman time and again.

“You came here hoping to save your father.”

“Yes.” I would not deny the obvious. This was a battle of wills that required honesty on my part. I knew he would see through me if I lied.

He nodded. “That’s brave of you. But just like your mother who came here before you, you’re wasting your time. Your father took three billion dollars from me. I’m ready to put his ass away for good. I’m not alone in that desire.”

He was not a man who minced with words. He went straight for the jugular. I was learning from him as we spoke.

“Surely, a man of your stature is not a slave of human frailties such as revenge? You want to recoup your losses, not totally incapacitate my father to the point where he won’t be able to return your money at all.”

A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “You’re smarter than you look. How old are you?”

“Stereo-typing? So typical of men like you.” I literally bit my tongue. What the hell? I had feministic tendencies, and it wouldn’t help my case one bit if I let it run my mouth.

But his smile widened, his eyes looking genuinely amused. Or intrigued. “Men like me?”

Bite your tongue. “Yes, men who hold too much power they see everything as commodities. Things that can be bought and sold at their whim.”

“Insulting me doesn’t help your cause, Miss Madden.”

Dammit, shut up! “I wasn’t insulting you. I was merely stating a fact based on the articles written by men who have lauded your victories.”

“You’ve been reading about me.”

I shrugged. “Like they say, know thy enemy.”

“Quoting ancient tacticians won’t get you anywhere with me, too.”

“What’s the matter, Mr. Landis? Afraid this enemy will get you?”

Okay now, you went too far. You and your big mouth!

To my surprise, he threw his head back and laughed, the low timbre of his voice filling the room. What would it take to elicit laughter from him under different circumstances?

I shook my traitorous thoughts away. I could see he was enjoying the exchange. So, Joshua Landis liked women who were bold and smart-mouthed. Who knew? I thought he’d be the over-bearing, misogynistic asshole through and through. Surprise, surprise!

“You’re something, Miss Madden, I give you that. I’m disappointed in your father though. He sent his daughter to the enemy’s camp. What a coward. But then again, what did I expect from a con man?”

I clenched my fists and lashed out on instinct. “Don’t speak of my father like that! You don’t know him at all!”

His brows rose. “You’re in my turf. I’ll speak here however I want. And I know him well enough that I entrusted my money in his care.”

I struggled to control my rising temper. I came here to convince him, not antagonize him. “He doesn’t know I’m here.”

He looked unconvinced.

“He’s not a coward. My father loves me more than anything in this world, and he’d rather die than send his only daughter to face his enemy.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Okay, suppose it’s the truth. What exactly did you expect to accomplish by coming here?”

“I expected you to have some mercy.”

“Your father doesn’t deserve it. He defrauded me and those people of our hard-earned money.”

“That’s your belief, but it’s not necessarily the whole truth. There are always two sides to a coin.”

“Really? Enlighten me.”

“Madden Securities is just one of the several companies implicated in the Rutledge Scam. It just so happened that my father was close friends with Magnus Rutledge. That doesn’t mean he was an accomplice in this scam. My father is innocent of the crime you and the others are accusing him of. He’s also a victim of Rutledge.”

“I admire your faith in your father’s innocence. Unfortunately, I only have to ask where my money went and that’s enough to convict him.”

“He invested it in Magnus’ company in good faith.”

“Good faith doesn’t make one innocent. Ignorance of the law doesn’t excuse one from it. Your father is a Wall Street veteran. He knows the rules.”

I sighed. “I get your point, but nevertheless, I came here to negotiate, Mr. Landis.”

“You’re in no position to negotiate.”

“Please.”

He stared at me, then shrugged his broad shoulders. “Since you’re here anyway, let’s hear it.”

“I’m offering you a partnership. A 40% stake in Madden Securities.”

His brows furrowed. “Does your father know you’re negotiating on his behalf?”

“His lawyers know. Leave my father to me. I’m his only heir. I have a say in this matter. Since he’s in jail, I’m taking over.”

“Hmm.” He was now looking at me like I was some annoying kid playing make-believe. I hated the patronizing look he was giving me. “What do you want, Miss Madden?”

“Drop the case.”

His jaw slackened a bit. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“Believe me, I don’t joke about 40%.”

“That may be hard given the situation. Like I said, I’m not the only one he’s defrauded. There are many of us and they want his blood.”

“Hard but not impossible. You can stop them.”

He didn’t answer.

“I know you can. You’re powerful. Those people believe in you and will follow your advice. I know you can think of something to appease them to retract their complaints. Once my father is exonerated, he will work hard to turn around the situation. He might sell parts of the company to generate enough cash so that he can return the 1 billion he owes the smaller investors.”

“And what of my investments?”

“Despite the scandal, you know the company is in good shape overall. It was just a very bad judgment on my father’s part to invest in Rutledge Capital, but once the government has unfrozen my father’s accounts, you will help him turn everything around. In return, you will get more as a partner than just a mere investor. ”

“How convenient for your father. He took my money and now it would be me who has to work his ass off to get it back.”

“With your 40% stake, you’ll get triple your investment once the company is back in business.”

“Triple. That’s a tad too ambitious.”

“With you on board Madden Securities, nothing is too ambitious.”

“You don’t need to remind me of my abilities, Ms. Madden. I’m already well aware of that.”

“So, do we have a deal?”

He leaned back in his swivel chair, spearing me with a speculative stare, making me wait, making me sweat despite the low temperature of his office.

Then he told me flatly. “No. We don’t have a deal. I want my money back and your father’s going to jail for twenty years, and you, Miss Smartass, can leave. You’re wasting my time. ”