SEBASTIAN
Sebastian didn't look up from the acquisition report in front of him.
"Tell her I'm busy," he said into the intercom. His assistant had already buzzed twice about the same woman demanding a meeting. Some scandal-ridden heiress from the engagement party drama he'd caught on the news.
Evangeline Winters.
He'd seen the videos. Everyone had. The girl in the emerald dress looking devastated while her fiancé made out with her cousin in front of two hundred guests. It was the kind of public humiliation that usually ended with people disappearing into hiding. Not walking into the offices of men like him.
"She says it's urgent business, sir. And that you'll want to hear what she has to say."
Sebastian's jaw tightened. He didn't have time for desperate women trying to sell him things he didn't want. His calendar was full of actual business. Acquisitions that mattered. Companies that would make him richer and more powerful.
He didn't need drama.
He didn't need anything except what he already had.
"Tell her—"
"Please. Just five minutes."
Her voice came through the intercom. Quiet but steady. Not desperate. Not pleading. Just asking.
Something about her voice made him pause.
"Send her in."
He went back to his report, determined to be dismissive. To look at her for thirty seconds and send her away. Women like Evangeline Winters were all the same. Pretty. Privileged. Looking for someone to fix their problems.
He didn't fix problems.
He exploited them.
The door opened.
She walked in and his first thought was that the videos didn't do her justice. The engagement party footage showed her broken. This version of Evangeline Winters was different. Exhausted but holding herself together. Eyes that had seen too much too fast. A spine that was somehow still straight despite everything trying to bend it.
She wore a designer suit that had probably cost more than most people's cars. But she wore it like it was armor. Like she was going into battle.
Sebastian's hand stilled on the acquisition report.
"Miss Winters," he said smoothly. "I heard about your engagement party. My condolences."
She didn't flinch at the mockery in his voice. Didn't apologize or look embarrassed. She just met his eyes and said something that made him question his hearing.
"I'm not here for sympathy, Mr. Thornfield. I'm here to propose a business arrangement."
He leaned back in his chair.
"I don't invest in failing pharmaceutical companies."
"I'm not asking for investment." She pulled a folder from her bag and set it on his desk. Her hands were shaking but her voice wasn't. "I'm asking you to marry me."
Sebastian blinked.
Then he laughed. Genuinely laughed for the first time in what felt like years. Marriage. The word was absurd. A woman he'd never met proposing marriage like she was asking him to take her to dinner.
"You're serious," she said.
His laugh died.
He looked at her face and realized she wasn't joking.
She was absolutely serious.
"I'm serious," she continued, moving closer to his desk. Not threatening. Just determined. "One year contract marriage. In exchange you acquire Winters Pharmaceuticals at fair market value. Restructure it under Thornfield Industries. Keep my father on as consultant until his health stabilizes."
Sebastian didn't interrupt. He let her talk because something about this was different. Something about her was different.
"I play the perfect wife in public," she continued. "We maintain separate lives in private. After one year, quiet divorce. You get a major pharmaceutical company with groundbreaking cancer research. I get my father's legacy preserved and his medical bills covered."
She set down the proposal folder.
"The details are all in there. Every term negotiated like the business deal it is."
Sebastian opened the folder slowly.
The proposal was brilliant. Detailed. Every angle covered. She'd clearly spent serious time on it. The terms were fair. The business logic was sound. Winters Pharmaceuticals had assets worth acquiring if you had the connections to handle the FDA investigation. Which he did.
He looked back at her.
"What do I get out of playing house with a scandal-ridden heiress?"
The words were cruel and he meant them to be. He wanted to see if she'd break. If she'd finally show the cracks.
She didn't.
"Your reputation," she said. "Three broken engagements. Tabloids call you the heartbreaker billionaire who can't commit. Marry me, stay married for a full year, and suddenly you're the devoted husband who gave a fallen woman a second chance. Your image softens. Your enemies can't use your relationship history against you in negotiations. And when we divorce quietly after a year, you're the tragic figure who tried to make it work."
She was right.
The reputation angle was solid. His love life was a liability in business. His three failed engagements had become fodder for every rival trying to question his judgment. A year of marriage to Evangeline Winters would change that narrative completely.
"You've thought this through," he said.
"I'm desperate, not stupid."
Something flickered in his chest. Respect maybe. Or recognition. This woman understood how the world worked. Understood that sometimes you had to be willing to sacrifice everything just to survive.
He knew that feeling too well.
"Why me?" he asked. "There are other billionaires in Manhattan with less complicated reputations."
"Because you honor contracts. Because you're powerful enough that no one will question the marriage. And because..." She hesitated. "Because you don't want love either. This is pure business. No messy emotions. No expectations beyond the contract terms."
Sebastian stood and walked to the window.
Below him Manhattan sprawled. His city. His kingdom. All the things he'd built after Victoria destroyed him. All the walls he'd constructed so no one could ever hurt him again.
He'd told himself he was fine with it. The coldness. The distance. The absolute certainty that everyone wanted something from him that he wasn't willing to give.
Then Evangeline Winters walked in and proposed marriage like she understood exactly how his mind worked.
Like she understood that maybe he was tired of being alone.
No. That wasn't it.
He wasn't tired of being alone.
He was afraid of being with someone.
"One year," he said.
"One year."
"Separate bedrooms."
"Agreed."
"Public appearances as needed. You attend all company functions as my wife. No scandal. No embarrassment."
"Agreed."
"And if you break the contract early, you get nothing. The company liquidates."
He watched her breathe. Watched her decide if she could live with that consequence.
"That's harsh," she said.
"That's business, Miss Winters. Can you handle it?"
She looked at him and in her eyes he saw something that made his entire world stop.
She looked at him and saw him. Not the money. Not the power. Just him. And somehow she didn't hate what she saw.
"Yes," she said. "I can handle it."
Sebastian walked back to his desk and extended his hand.
"Then we have a deal."
Her hand was small in his. Soft. Real.
And when he shook it, something in his chest didn't just crack. It shattered completely.
"My lawyers will have the contract ready by tomorrow," he said, pulling his hand back before he did something stupid. "We marry in one week. Quiet ceremony. Then I'm introducing you to Manhattan society as Mrs. Thornfield."
"One week," she said.
She turned and walked toward the door.
And Sebastian realized with absolute certainty that he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Not because the marriage was a mistake.
But because he was already starting to want it to be real.
He watched her leave and his assistant appeared in the doorway asking about his next meeting. Sebastian waved her away. He needed to think.
But his mind was completely blank except for one image.
Evangeline Winters shaking his hand.
And the way his chest had felt when she touched him.
Like someone had taken the ice that had frozen his heart for three years and set it on fire.