Hannah’s POV

I gripped the fountain pen tighter, feeling it dig into my palm as I slowly turned toward the source of that cold, mocking voice.

Though the newcomer used no white cane, his slightly unsteady gait betrayed his blindness. But it was his appearance that made my breath catch.

Finn Sterling was devastatingly handsome—tall and lean with sharp, aristocratic features that seemed carved from marble. Dark hair fell across his forehead, partially obscuring eyes hidden behind designer sunglasses. His perfectly tailored black suit emphasized broad shoulders and a powerful frame. Yet despite this physical perfection, the atmosphere around him felt frigid, dangerous—like the air before a violent storm.

He stopped abruptly, tilting his head slightly as if sensing the room’s dimensions through some unseen means. With a sharp motion, he shook off the servant’s supportive hand.

“I don’t need your guidance in my own home,” he snapped, voice low and threatening.

The servant stepped back immediately, bowing despite Finn’s inability to see the gesture. “My apologies, sir.”

Finn’s head turned with uncanny precision toward Victoria’s desk. “So this is the woman you’ve found for me, Grandmother? My personal breeding stock?”

His words stung like slaps, but I kept my expression neutral, forgetting momentarily that he couldn’t see my reaction.

Until this moment, I hadn’t known the identity of the elderly woman orchestrating this arrangement—she had remained simply “ma’am” throughout our meeting, her name deliberately withheld like everything else in this shadowy encounter. But as the man mockingly referred to “my grandmother,” the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

Victoria Sterling—matriarch of the Sterling dynasty and one of the most powerful women in US. Her reputation for ruthless business tactics was legendary, but nothing compared to the rumors about how she protected her family’s interests. Now I understood why the contract terms were non-negotiable. When dealing with Sterlings, you either accepted their terms or walked away empty-handed.

Victoria rose from her chair, and I finally saw her clearly for the first time. Despite her advanced age, she carried herself with regal elegance—a slender woman of medium height with impeccably styled silver hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to evaluate everything with cold precision.

Victoria’s voice remained steady. “Finn, this is Hannah Lancaster. She’s agreed to our arrangement.”

“Lancaster?” One corner of his mouth quirked upward in a cruel smile. “How appropriate—trading on a worthless title to survive.”

His awareness of my family history sent a chill down my spine. He’d clearly been briefed about me.

“Come here,” he commanded suddenly, addressing me directly.

I hesitated, glancing toward Victoria. She nodded slightly, giving me silent permission.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, the sound of my heels against the hardwood floor echoing in the tense silence. When I was about three feet away, Finn’s hand shot out with startling accuracy, catching my wrist in a painfully tight grip.

I gasped involuntarily. How had he known exactly where I stood?

“Impressive reflexes for a blind man,” I managed, trying to keep my voice steady.

His grip tightened further. “I don’t need sight to sense a desperate woman’s presence.”

Before I could respond, he yanked me forward, pulling me against his chest. The movement was so sudden I had no time to resist. His other hand emerged from his pocket, and moonlight glinted off metal—a knife blade.

He paused, turning his head precisely in my direction as if he could see me perfectly. A slow, chilling smile spread across his face.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said.

After the door closed behind him, Victoria exhaled slowly. “I apologize for my grandson’s behavior. Since losing his sight, he’s become more… unpredictable.”

Unpredictable? From what I’d read in the papers and heard in whispered conversations, Finn’s violent tendencies weren’t exactly new developments.

His reputation had been well-established long before he lost his sight—a man who settled business disputes with broken bones rather than boardroom negotiations. The tabloids had linked him to underground fighting rings across Europe, and there were rumors of worse things—bodies that disappeared, competitors who suddenly abandoned lucrative projects when Sterling interests were involved. His blindness might have added a new dimension to his volatility, but it certainly hadn’t created it.

“Unpredictable seems a mild way to describe someone who just held a knife to my face,” I replied, unable to keep the tremor from my voice.

Victoria’s expression hardened. “The accident that took his sight happened only one week ago. He’s still adjusting.”

A servant stepped forward to retrieve the knife, carefully pulling it from the floor. When he lifted the carpet, I saw the knife had created a jagged hole nearly an inch deep in the solid hardwood beneath.

The sight made my stomach lurch. That could have been my face. Or my throat.