I went still.She remembered the first night we met, when I held out my pinky and promised I wouldn’t catch feelings from a fuck.
I smiled—helplessly, stupidly. “Okay then,” I murmured, my voice shaking just a little. “A pinky swear.”
Our fingers linked. A second later, her hand dropped. She reached into her bag, pulled out the contract, and placed it on the desk. I moved to grab a pen.
“You’re not going to check it to make sure I didn’t change the terms?” she asked.
I clicked the pen. “I trust you,” I said, before scrawling my signature on the last page. I knew she wouldn’t fuck me over in business. “I’ll have Quinn send a moving truck for your things in the morning.”
She closed the distance, wrapping her arms around my neck for one last, deep kiss. She untucked my shirt, her hand sliding over my abs. She pulled back just enough to whisper against mymouth. “No need. Six months from now, I’ll handle moving my own stuff.”
I blinked, lost in the fog. “What do you mean?”
“I said I’d move in,” she murmured, already sliding out of my embrace. “I just didn’t saythis second.”
She winked, grabbed the file, and walked out of the office on her heels, leaving the doors to sigh shut behind her.
I stood frozen, the air thick with her scent and the stinging reality of my defeat. I knocked over the pen holder and the crystal carafe in one violent sweep. I snatched my phone from my pocket.
TO ELARA:Nobody else plays with me like you do. It’s getting old.
ELARA:Then stop letting me.
I exhaled a laugh. She was trying to drive me crazy. Too bad for her, I’d take her with me.
Chapter 8
Elara
I went straight from Julian’s office to the Ashworth estate. I found everyone in the study. The heavy oak doors shut behind me, sealing me back into a world of curated antiques and lies. The signed contract in my hand felt like the only real thing in the room.
Alastair and his parents were in the sitting area, discussing something in low tones. They turned to look at me when I walked in. Alastair’s expression was pinched; he was expecting failure, as if he had a single shred of evidence that I’d ever failed him. I hadn't. Every deal I went after, I got—unlike him. His father’s expression was weary; his mother’s was hopeful.
I crossed the Persian rug and placed the contract on the immense mahogany desk.
“It’s done,” I said. My voice was flat. It had been a long time since I’d felt any excitement for these things.
For a moment, there was complete silence. Mr. Ashworth moved first, snatching up the document. His eyes scanned the final page. A slow, deep breath escaped him—the sound of a man pulled back from a financial cliff. “Elara… my god. How?”
I let a vengeful twenty-something kiss me until I saw stars and then promised to live with him.
“Persuasion,” I said simply.
Mrs. Ashworth rushed forward, her hands fluttering before she grasped mine. Her eyes were bright with tears—not of joy for me, but of relief for the family name. “You brilliant girl. I knew you could handle that brat. I knew it.”
I chuckled mentally. Julian was a "difficult, temperamental boy" in their narrative. They had no idea.
Alastair stared at the contract in his father’s hands as if it were a trick that might disappear. His gaze lifted to mine, suspicion warring with a dawning, resentful awe. “What did you have to promise him?”
“A productive partnership,” I said, meeting his eyes without blinking. “The terms are favorable. You can review them.”
“We’ll have a celebratory dinner,” Mr. Ashworth announced, clapping a hand on my shoulder. The weight of it felt like a brand. “Tonight. You’ll stay, Elara. No arguments. This calls for family.”
Family.The word tasted like a fabrication. I had realized long ago that I was the utility player—brought off the bench to score the winning goal, only to be expected to sit back down with gratitude when I wasn’t needed. I was just waiting for my moment to walk off the field forever.
“Of course,” I said, because there was no other answer.
It was over dinner that Alastair dropped his next grenade. The mistress sat beside him, one hand possessively on her belly, the other toying with a necklace that likely cost more than the furniture we were sitting on.
