Chapter 5: The Offer

"Start by telling me who you really are."

Scott's voice left no room for negotiation.

Emily's pulse hammered against her ribs.

She'd made her move impulsively, without thinking it through.

She shouldn't even have been at the will reading at all, but Simon had said Hilda requested she be there as a witness.

Hilda must have thought she'd still be married to her grandson.

"Let me guess." Scott's jaw tightened. "They sent you to get information about me. You work for Ian Hunter."

Disappointment flickered across his face.

Dread sank through Emily at the thought that he believed she worked for the man who'd ruined her life.

"He's my ex-husband," she blurted. "The one I told you about at the bar."

Scott went completely still.

For a second, his calm mask cracked—shock widening his eyes before he recovered, his expression smoothing back into controlled suspicion.

"How do I know you're not lying?" He leaned back, studying her. "That this isn't all part of some elaborate setup?"

Emily's mind raced. "Ask the building caretaker. He's known me for years."

Something in Scott's posture eased.

He settled deeper into the leather seat, though his eyes never left her face.

"So what do you want?"

Emily forced herself to meet his gaze directly.

"A marriage deal."

Scott's eyebrows shot up. A surprised laugh escaped him.

"Why would I marry my rival's ex-wife?"

"I heard the clauses at the reading. I know you need a wife." Emily kept her voice steady, refusing to look away.

"I could find anyone to play that role."

"Yes, but they'll never know the Hunters like I do." The conviction in her own voice surprised her. "I can help you win."

That did it.

Scott went quiet, his gaze turning sharp and assessing.

Emily felt it like a physical weight, but she kept her spine straight, her chin up.

"What's in it for you?"

"My business needs funding to settle debts and restructure."

"Or you just want revenge on your ex."

Emily's breath caught.

The accuracy of his observation sent heat flooding her cheeks.

She looked away, staring down at her hands folded in her lap.

When she'd seen Scott at the will reading, her heart had dropped.

She'd been seconds from leaving when the drama unfolded.

Watching Scott's presence unsettle Ian—watching her ex-husband squirm for once—had been intoxicating.

She knew how much Ian hated losing. How entitled he'd always been.

Finally, someone had put him in his place.

And a twisted idea had formed. One that promised both financial security and revenge.

"You know my business needs help," she said quietly, still looking at her hands.

"Okay."

Emily's head snapped up. "Wait. Just like that?"

He'd actually agreed to her insane plan.

She hadn't expected it to work, certainly not this easily.

"You agree?" Uncertainty crept into her voice.

"Yes. In fact, we're going to my office right now to sign the contract."

"Right now?" Panic fluttered in her chest. She hadn't thought this part through.

"Don't forget—it was your idea." Scott pulled out his phone. "Becky, draft a marriage contract. I'll text details. Twenty minutes."

He hung up. "To the office."

The car pulled into traffic.

Emily's stomach churned.

Scott texted, completely unfazed, as if they hadn't just agreed to get married.

Unless he had his own plans she didn't know about.

A shiver ran down her spine.

What have I gotten myself into?

She'd just escaped one Hunter. Now she was about to legally bind herself to another.

No.

Confidence crystallized inside her.

She could never trust a Hunter again. This time, she was going to be in control.

This time, she'd get what she wanted.

"We're here," Scott said, stepping out.

Gerry opened Emily's door.

The building loomed above them—the larger section of the same structure where her office was.

Construction crews worked throughout the open space as they walked to a door marked S.H.

Gerry opened it.

The moment the door closed behind them, tension settled over the room like a weight.

They both avoided eye contact.

Scott moved behind his desk.

The office was immaculate—perfectly aligned plants, matching furniture, obsessive precision.

Built-in library, mini-fridges, mounted TV, leather couch. Brown and wood tones, silver fixtures.

The scent of sandalwood hung in the air.

Too perfect. Definitely hiding something.

Scott gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Sit."

Emily sat, keeping her eyes down.

She could feel the heat of his gaze, burning through her defenses.

They sat in silence, memories of last night hovering between them.

Her cheeks flushed as she remembered the kiss.

Heat crawled up her neck and she shifted uncomfortably.

The door opened.

A woman in her early twenties entered, placed a file on the desk, and turned to leave.

"Thank you, Becky."

Scott slid the file toward Emily. "The contract. Once you sign, I sign, and we have an agreement."

"I'll organize a wedding and notify the press so it's solid on our end."

Emily opened the file, skimming the terms.

Then she froze.

"This—I definitely don't agree to living with you."

No way was she going to live under the same roof as this man. Not after last night.

She was still surprised he hadn't brought it up.

"I was at the funeral," Scott said. "Quite an attendance. Even the paparazzi came."

He leaned forward. "You're the ex-wife of Ian Hunter of Hunter Autos. Once this gets out, if we aren't living together, it'll look staged—with you under the spotlight. We have to make this believable."

He had a point.

But the thought of last night repeating itself made her pulse race.

"If that's the case, I'd like to make some adjustments."

"Like what?" Scott's eyes gleamed with interest.

"No physical contact during the duration of the contract." Emily looked directly at him, projecting confidence she didn't quite feel. "And it says two hundred fifty thousand quarterly. I want five hundred thousand."

Scott paused.

Then he smiled—like he was almost proud of her.

"Three hundred."

"Three fifty."

"Done. Sign it and I'll have that added before the final draft."

Emily signed, then looked up. "Aren't you going to sign too?"

Scott walked around the desk.

His hand brushed hers as he took the pen.

Emily flinched.

He signed, then perched on the desk edge.

Emily could feel him looking down at her. His cologne wrapped around her. His presence shadowed her completely.

She couldn't help but look up.

Their eyes locked.

Her body tensed.

Heat crawled up her thighs and she shuddered involuntarily.

She stood quickly. "If that's all, I'd like to leave now."

She turned toward the door, but Scott's hand caught her waist, pulling her back against him.

"Are we not going to talk about last night?"

His voice dropped, temptingly deep.

Emily's stomach twisted.

Her face went pale.

There it was—the question she'd been dreading.

She forced herself to look up at him.

Their eyes locked and shivers cascaded down her spine.

Goosebumps rose along her arms. Her legs went numb.

"The—" Her throat was suddenly dry. She swallowed hard and tried again. "The contract. I said no contact."

"That part hasn't been drafted yet."

Scott's thumb brushed her hip.

Emily's breath hitched.

She should step back.

Instead, she found herself unable to move.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

His hand slid to her lower back, his lips a breath away from hers.

Emily couldn't.

His lips crashed into hers.