And for once, I genuinely didn’t know where I’d gone wrong.
I’d been honest with her. Brutally so. Maybe that had pushed her away. Or maybe we’d moved too fast. Or maybe something had shifted inside her in a way I hadn’t seen.
The possibilities churned through me—failures, guilt, panic rising in a tangled swell that refused to settle.
And then—
Nathan fucking Bell.
His low, rumbling laugh carried from the far end of the room.
“I like that one,” he drawled, voice thick with something I recognized too damn well. His eyes—hungry, greedy—draggedover Emma like she was something on a menu, not a woman with a mind, a spine, a pulse I’d felt beneath my hands. He licked his lips like he was reliving a memory he didn’t have.
Something primal and scorching flooded through me. Every muscle that had locked during that meeting snapped awake—violent, protective, feral.
“She hates you,” I said through clenched teeth. But the words echoed back at me.
Nathan leaned back, smugness curling his mouth.
“No,” he countered lazily. “Today it seemed she hated you.”
Maria’s eyes darted to Tessa—quick, tense, a silentbrace yourself.
“I don’t think she hates anyone,” Tessa offered, but her words barely skimmed the surface of the tension.
“We covered all our talking points,” Maria said—an offering, a buffer.
“Yes,” Nathan drawled, grin widening until it hardened. “Emma and I made plenty of progress.”
“Ms.Sinclair,” I corrected, the words snapping out sharp as cut wire.
His head tilted; that smirk deepened. “Ms.Sinclair.”
A mockery of respect.
A challenge.
Her name slid off his tongue like something indecent. Hunger threaded through every syllable.
My hands curled at my sides, nails biting into my palms just to hold myself together.
Maria and Tessa exchanged the same quick look—part warning, part sympathy.
They could feel it.
The storm sitting under my ribs.
“Maria. Tessa.” My tone thinned into something restrained. “Thank you for joining us today. We’ll reconvene once Elion sends over the final proofs.”
Grateful nods.
Quick exits.
The door clicking shut behind them.
Nathan’s polished façade cracked apart like cheap veneer. “She made you look like an idiot,” he laughed, head tipping back.
“It’s true,” I said flatly. “She’s an excellent negotiator.”
