Ethan Cole was the kind of guy that made mothers raise an eyebrow and warn their daughters, yet somehow, he was the very man those daughters found utterly irresistible. At thirty-four, his name echoed around the globe, stirring up a mix of envy, fear, and desire. Wall Street dubbed him their golden wolf, Silicon Valley hailed him as a ruthless genius, Dubai recognized him as its most dangerous guest, and Milan whispered about him as a secret lover in plush lounges.
Money seemed to bend to his will. Power trailed behind him. Women willingly surrendered to him.
And he reveled in it.
His life was a whirlwind of indulgence and conquest. Private jets soared through the skies, penthouses kissed the clouds, and a yacht so enormous it could easily be mistaken for a floating palace. Everything he touched turned to gold except for hearts. Those he shattered with chilling precision.
Tonight, the Waldorf Astoria sparkled like a crown adorned with jewels. The grand ballroom radiated with the glow of crystal chandeliers, each scattering light like a constellation of broken stars. Hundreds of candles flickered in tall glass towers, their flames dancing to the rhythm of the music. Marble floors gleamed brightly enough to reflect ambition itself. Roses and orchids spilled from ornate vases, their fragrance mingling with the crispness of champagne.
The air was thick with wealth, desire, and the insatiable hunger of those who had climbed high enough to fear the fall.
And right in the center of it all was Ethan Cole.
His tuxedo was darker than midnight, tailored to perfection by an Italian craftsman who claimed he could make kings bow with just fabric. His shoulders exuded the quiet strength of a man who didn't need to raise his voice to command respect. His jawline was a sharp testament to control, and his icy blue eyes scanned the crowd like a knife slicing through the air.
People didn't realize they gravitated toward him, but they did. They orbited him without even knowing it, as if gravity itself was bending to his presence. Men envied him, women desired him, and even his rivals begrudged him a respect they could never quite extinguish.
He didn't need to smile.