What?
I freeze halfway out of my chair, stuck in this awkward half-crouch that probably makes me look like I’m about to take the world’s most confused shit.
“I’m… free to leave?”
“Of course.” He starts organizing papers on his desk, dismissing me like I’m some minor inconvenience he’s already forgotten about. “The door is right there.”
My mouth opens.
Closes.
Opens again.
Because what the actual fuck?
Two minutes ago, he was eye-fucking me into next Tuesday, and now he’s basically showing me the door with all the emotion of someone tossing out week-old takeout?
“That’s it?” The words scratch out of my throat. “You’re not going to… I don’t know, threaten me? Blackmail me with the security footage?”
His eyes flick up to mine.
Just for a second.
But it’s enough to make my stomach drop to my toes.
“Why would I need to threaten you?” His voice is soft. Dangerous.
I should be relieved. Grateful, even. He’s letting me walk away. No threats. No blackmail. No concrete shoes for the real estate agent who broke into his mansion and defiled his Egyptian cotton sheets.
But all I feel is… confused? Disappointed?
Wait. Disappointed?
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
“Well, because… I don’t know, because of what I did before?” My voice trails off pathetically. I sound like I’m fishing for a punishment, which is so screwed up that I can’t even begin to unpack it.
He just watches me, expressionless, like I’m some mildly interesting documentary on cable TV.
“Why…” I swallow hard. “Why would you want to marry me?”
He leans against the leather wingback, the material creaking beneath his weight. Power looks good on him. Too good.
“Because you need the money, and I need a wife.”
Simple. Transactional. Like he’s ordering coffee, not proposing a life-altering arrangement.
My jaw goes slack. “How—how do you know I need money?”
One eyebrow lifts a little. Like I’ve asked the most obvious question in the world.
“Twelve thousand, four hundred and eighty-six dollars,” he recites the exact amount I owe my lawyer. “Due this Thursday. Otherwise, you lose your parents’ house.
Ice floods my veins.
“How could you possibly know that?”
His lips quirk—that not-quite-smile that makes my stomach flip despite myself.
