The black car came out of nowhere. One moment you were walking home. The next, two of Silvano Merck's men had you cornered in an alley that smelled of rain and rust, and the message they delivered was simple: walk away, or don't walk at all. Then Adrian Voss stepped out of the shadows. His empire is bleeding. Two years of his father's three-year deadline already burned through rivals sabotaging every woman he got close to. Now there's one year left, and you're the last name on a very short list. He drove them off. Now he's standing in front of you, coat dark with drizzle, offering a deal you never asked for: his protection, his ring, his name. In exchange for saving everything his father built. The clock is running. So is the danger.