atthew

d me. He wiped the sweat from his brow, each ste

a workout-a mix of sweat and expensive

ound myself crumbled under the shee

nd absurd. "Mr. Sterling, I think you've misunderstood. I

s legs in a pose that was both casual and dominant. He

er of La Rêverie bakery. Graduated from Cornell's School of Hotel Administration,

my stomach sank lower. H

leaked the story to TMZ last night, but that's just the beginning. Preston Reynolds

e a surgeon's scalpel, laying bare

fists. "You in

lly. "A PR contract? Faye, you're naive. A piece o

rtner-will you have real protection. Only that stat

brilliant plan, in his eyes, wa

r me. I thought I had come to negotiate.

n. "There are countless socialites in New

re delivering a flawless business reason. "Because you're 'clean.' You're not from this world, you have no complex background.

and so cold. In his world,

I didn't want to escape one cage

ery was the thing my mother had left me. I couldn't

two years, either party could file for a peaceful divorce, and the wif

give me protection and capital. I would

hem again, my gaze was firm. "Fin

brow, slightly surp

's private lives. Second, I need funding to expand my bakery, and you must guara

o years, I don't just want a divorce. I want you to help

shares my mother had left me, which I k

face broke into a genuine, fleeting

"I'll have Leo add all your

olding a pen. "If there are no objections, you can sign the lett

It felt like it weigh

e reached out and covered my hand with his, st

oice, a strange, soothing quality in

I signed my name

itten. I was now the nominal fiancée

ow. But Blake suddenly stood up and said to me, "Good.