LOGINEmily Hart has one goal: save her late mother's bakery and open a pastry shop of her own before she turns twenty five. She has never wanted anything from the Whitfield family beyond their weekly order of croissants. Then her father tells her the truth he has hidden for years. He owes the Whitfield family trust a debt so large it will cost them the bakery within the month, unless Emily agrees to something that sounds impossible. Marry Nathaniel Whitfield, the coldest, most unreachable man in Manhattan, for one year. Nathaniel does not want a wife. He wants control of the company his grandfather built, and his grandmother's will has strapped that control to a wedding ring with a thirty day deadline. Every candidate his assistant has vetted wants his money, his name, or his photograph on their arm. Emily Hart wants none of it. She looks at him like he is a person and not a headline, and that terrifies him more than the deadline does. What begins as a transaction, a signature, a rushed courthouse wedding that makes Emily a billionaire's wife overnight, becomes something neither of them planned for. Small kindnesses. A shared umbrella. An accidental laugh in the back of a car. But Nathaniel's ex fiancee Vanessa has not forgotten what she lost, and she is not finished trying to take it back, this time by any means necessary. Meanwhile Emily's stubborn independence and Nathaniel's instinct to control everything around him collide again and again, each fight peeling back one more layer of the walls both of them built. As the year draws on, secrets buried in both families start to surface. A hidden clause in Eleanor's will. A document Vanessa still has.
View MoreEmily's POV"Close your eyes," Nathaniel said, his hand steady around mine, "and don't argue with me for once in your life." I laughed despite myself, because even now, even after everything, some things about us had never needed fixing at all.He led me across uneven ground, the smell of sawdust and fresh paint thick in the air, until he finally let me stop walking."Open them," he said quietly.I did, and the breath left my chest completely.The original bakery stood rebuilt in front of me, the exact address where my mother's dream had burned to the ground before I was old enough to remember losing it, except now it was whole again, brick and glass and a hand painted sign that read Hart and Daughter in letters my father had chosen himself."How," I whispered, though some part of me already knew the answer."The settlement," Nathaniel said. "Every dollar of it, finally paid in full, went exactly where it should have gone thirty years ago. Your father helped with the design. Eleanor f
Nathaniel's POV"You're allowed to fall apart now, you know." Emily said it so gently, standing in the doorway of the bakery's back office at two in the morning, that it took me a moment to realize she was talking to me, not to herself.I had not cried since my father's funeral. I had trained myself out of it the same way I had trained myself out of raising my voice, believing control was the only inheritance worth protecting. Sitting in the small office where Walter kept his ledgers, surrounded by the smell of yesterday's bread, I finally let go of something I had been holding since I was thirteen years old."I spent my whole life believing my father's fraud was the worst thing this family did," I said quietly. "I didn't know Marcus set that fire. I didn't know my grandmother had known for thirty years. I don't know how to hold all of it at once.""You don't have to hold it all at once," Emily said, sitting beside me on an old flour sack crate that had seen better decades. "You just
Emily's POV"He set the fire himself." Saying those five words out loud to a room full of board members felt heavier than anything I had carried in the entire year since I signed my name beside Nathaniel's at that rushed courthouse wedding.The boardroom looked exactly the way it had the night Marcus first threatened to take everything from us, glass walls, cold light, a table long enough to seat every person who had ever doubted this marriage was real. This time, though, I was not sitting quietly at the edge of it."This is absurd," Marcus said, standing so fast his chair scraped hard against the floor. "You expect this board to believe a recording handed over by a bitter woman I already fired from my confidence months ago.""I expect this board to listen to it themselves," Nathaniel said calmly, sliding the recording across the table toward the center where every director could hear it clearly. "Then decide for themselves what they believe."The recording played. Marcus's own voice
Nathaniel's POV"If he walks in with you, I will not say a single word." I read that line over Emily's shoulder and felt something cold settle in my chest, because for the first time all year, I was being asked to trust her safety without being able to stand beside her while she carried it."I'm not letting you go up there alone," I said."You heard what she said.""I heard it. I am ignoring it."Emily looked at me for a long moment, the streetlight catching the exhaustion under her eyes. "Then stand where she can't see you," she said finally. "Close enough to hear. Not close enough to spook her."It was a compromise I did not like, but it was the only one she was offering, and after everything the last few hours had cost us, I was not willing to lose her over pride.The building's hallway smelled like old carpet and cheaper perfume than Vanessa had ever worn in the years I knew her. Emily knocked twice. The door opened before her hand fell back to her side.Vanessa looked nothing lik










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