I walked into his office with my heart hammering.
The place smelled like money and power.
Cold air. Expensive silence.
He was waiting.
Alexander Ward.
My father's enemy.
He looked up from his desk, those gray eyes cutting through me.
"Miss Hale." His voice was calm. Too calm. "Sit."
I sat.
My palms were cold.
He didn't open a single file.
"Your father," he said.
I swallowed. "What about him?"
"He's one signature away from prison."
His tone didn't change. "Fraud. Lies. He left a trail even I could follow."
My throat tightened.
"You came here to enjoy it?"
"I came to offer terms."
Of course he did.
Alexander Ward never missed a chance to own what used to belong to someone else.
"You bought the debt," I said.
He nodded once. "I did."
"How much to make it disappear?"
"Money won't do."
The words hit like ice.
"Then what?" I asked.
"You."
One word. Sharp. Final.
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
He leaned back, eyes steady, voice low.
"You'll stay in my house. Do as I say. One year. After that, your father walks free."
I stared at him. "That's insane."
He didn't blink.
"You have until five o'clock to agree. After that, I file the report."
I wanted to leave.
I didn't.
"Why me?" I whispered.
"Because you're his daughter." His gaze dropped to my hands. "And because you came when I called."
Heat crawled up my neck. "You think I'm here for you?"
"I know you're not," he said. "That's what makes this interesting."
I hated the calm in his voice.
It sounded like victory.
Five years ago, we met at one of my father's dinners.
I was twenty-one, too proud for my own good.
He'd watched me argue with him across the table, and I'd felt it... the spark I wasn't supposed to feel.
We hadn't spoken since.
Until now.
"You always liked to win," I said.
"And you always liked to challenge me," he replied.
The tension between us thickened, old and dangerous.
He stood, came around the desk, and stopped in front of me.
Close. Too close.
"You remember that night?" he asked.
"I try not to."
"You failed."
My pulse kicked. "You hated my father."
"I did."
His voice dropped. "But not you."
The air thinned.
I should have moved.
I didn't.
"This isn't revenge?" I asked.
"No. This is restraint."
He handed me a single sheet of paper.
The contract.
Simple. Brutal. My name at the top, his at the bottom.
"If you sign," he said, "your father's case disappears."
I looked at the page. Then at him.
My hand shook once before I steadied it. "Say the part I need to hear."
"You won't be hurt. You won't be forced. If you want something, ask. If you don't, say no."
It shouldn't have sounded safe. It did.
I signed.
He didn't glance at the paper. His eyes stayed on me.
"Stand up."
I stood.
He moved closer.
The scent of him,clean, sharp, filled my head.
He brushed a loose strand of hair back.
My breath caught.
"You were my father's enemy," I said.
"I was."
He held my gaze. "Now I'm yours… if you want me to be."
Something inside me twisted.
Five years hadn't killed it. It had only grown.
"Do you accept my terms?" he asked, voice low.
"Yes."
"Say it again."
"Yes."
He exhaled slowly, as if he'd been waiting for that word.
Then his expression changed, colder, unreadable.
"Prove it," he said.
My stomach flipped. "How?"
He didn't answer.
He walked to the chair behind his desk, the room shrinking around us.
He sat down, calm, sure, every move deliberate.
"Now," he said quietly.
I froze.
The sound of my heartbeat filled the silence.
"If you don't want this," he said, "say no."
The word stuck in my throat.
I couldn't move.
Couldn't speak.
He looked at me once more, eyes unreadable, hand resting at his waist.
And then—
The soft click of his belt filled the room.