CHAPTER FOUR

Alexander’s Pov

Margaret saw through us in approximately forty-five seconds.

"You're engaged." My grandmother set down her teacup with a delicate click that somehow sounded like a gunshot. "How wonderful. When did this whirlwind romance begin, exactly?"

"Three weeks ago, at the charity gala," I said smoothly. Emma sat beside me on the antique sofa, her hand in mine. It was smaller than I expected, and trembling slightly. "Emma planned the event."

"So you hired her, then proposed within weeks. How romantic." Margaret's shrewd eyes moved to Emma. "Tell me, dear, what do you love most about my grandson?"

Emma's hand tightened on mine. "He's different from what people think. Everyone sees the cold CEO, but I see someone who cares deeply about his foundation kids, someone who works himself to exhaustion because he feels responsible for everyone who depends on him. He's lonely, and he doesn't have to be."

The room went silent. I stared at Emma, caught off guard by the truth in her words. That wasn't acting. She actually saw that in me.

"Interesting." Margaret smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "James, what do you think of your brother's engagement?"

My brother had been quiet since we arrived, studying Emma and me with open suspicion. Now he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"I think the timing is awfully convenient, given the Sterling situation. I think Alexander has never mentioned Emma once in three weeks. And I think…." he looked directly at me, "....you're incapable of falling in love, Alex. Harold made sure of that."

"James," Margaret warned.

"No, he's right to be suspicious," Emma said quietly. Everyone turned to her. "If my brother suddenly announced he was marrying a stranger while facing a billion-dollar lawsuit, I'd have questions too. Alexander and I moved fast—too fast, probably. But sometimes you just know."

"Know what?" James challenged.

"That you'd rather take a risk on someone than spend another day alone." Emma looked at me when she said it, and something in my chest tightened uncomfortably. "Your brother has spent seventeen years alone, James. Maybe he's tired of it."

James opened his mouth to argue, but Margaret cut him off. "James, be a dear and help me in the kitchen. I need to check on dinner."

It was obviously a dismissal. James shot me one last suspicious look before following Margaret out. The moment they left, Emma dropped my hand like it burned.

"I'm a terrible liar," she whispered. "They know."

"Margaret suspects. James is certain. But they won't say anything publicly." I stood, needing distance from the uncomfortable feelings Emma's words had stirred. "What you said about me being lonely, don't do that again."

"Why not? It's true."

"Because this is a business arrangement. Don't pretend you actually understand me." The words came out harsher than intended. Emma flinched.

"Right. Business. I forgot." She stood as well, wrapping her arms around herself. "For what it's worth, I wasn't pretending. I do see that in you. But don't worry, I'll keep it professional from now on."

Guilt twisted in my gut, an unfamiliar sensation. Before I could respond, my phone vibrated. A text from David: "We have a problem. Call me now."

I stepped into the hallway and dialed. "What is it?"

"Someone leaked the contract to Sterling. He knows the marriage is fake, Alexander. He's planning to expose it."

My blood turned to ice. "How did he get it?"

"I don't know, but we have a mole. Someone inside your inner circle is feeding Sterling information." David's voice was grim. "If he goes public with proof your marriage is fake, it's over. The press will crucify you for trying to manipulate them."

"Find the leak. I don't care what it costs." I hung up and returned to the living room, where Emma waited.

"We have a bigger problem than your brother's suspicions."

Dinner was excruciating. Margaret asked pointed questions about how we met, our first date, and when I proposed. Emma and I stumbled through answers that didn't quite match, and James watched with barely concealed anger. For dessert, I wanted to put my fist through a wall.

"Alexander, walk me to my car," James said when dinner finally ended. It wasn't a request.

Outside, he grabbed my arm. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm getting married."

"You're running a con. That girl in there has real feelings, Alex. I can see it in how she looks at you. But you're using her like she's another business deal." His grip tightened. "You're going to destroy her."

"She signed a contract. She knows exactly what this is."

"Does she? Because from where I'm sitting, she thinks she can save you. She thinks she sees something good buried under all of Harold's damage. And when she realizes she can't, when she figures out you really are as empty as you pretend to be, it's going to break her."

I jerked free. "My relationship with Emma is none of your business."

"You don't have a relationship. You have a transaction." James's voice dropped. "I love you, Alex. You're my brother. But I won't stand by and watch you hurt someone innocent because you're too broken to feel anything real."

"Then don't watch. In fact, don't come to the wedding." I turned toward the door.

"I'll be there," James called after me. "Someone needs to be ready to catch her when this blows up in your face."

Emma was quiet in the car ride home. I should have said something, explained why I'd snapped at her, but the words wouldn't come. Harold had trained me too well. Show weakness, and people exploit it.

"Your brother's not wrong," Emma said as we entered the penthouse. "I am trying to see something good in you. Maybe that's stupid."

"It is."

"Okay." She headed toward her bedroom, then paused. "The kiss at the press conference, you felt something. I know you did."

"You're imagining things."

"Am I?" She turned to face me fully. "What are you so afraid of, Alexander? That you might actually feel something? That Harold didn't completely destroy your humanity?"

"This conversation is over."

"Fine. Hide behind your walls. But here's the thing about walls: they keep people out, but they also trap you inside." She disappeared into her room, leaving me alone in the cold, empty penthouse.

I poured myself a scotch I wouldn't drink and stared out at the city lights. My phone buzzed with another message from David: "Mole is someone close. Very close. Be careful who you trust."

I looked at Emma's closed bedroom door. She was the only new person in my life. The only variable that had changed. Could she be the leak? Was her kindness an act, her vulnerability a manipulation?

The thought made me physically sick, which told me everything I needed to know.

I was already in too deep, and James was right. When this ended badly, someone was going to get destroyed. I just hoped it would be me instead of her.