Married Again

The room was too quiet for a man like Sebastian Wolfe.

Towering windows stretched from floor to ceiling, bathing his office in the soft glow of the evening sun. Manhattan’s skyline glittered in the distance, but Sebastian wasn’t looking at it. He was staring at the woman sitting across from him—the one who had just flipped his world upside down with a single sentence.

“I’ll marry you,” Aria Sinclair said, her voice calm, almost bored, like she wasn’t offering herself to one of the most powerful men in New York.

Sebastian leaned back in his leather chair, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. He’d faced boardrooms filled with bloodthirsty investors, buried competitors with a single signature, and walked through grief with nothing but silence. But Aria… she was chaos in silk.

She couldn’t be older than twenty-two. A whisper of a woman with eyes that sparkled with mischief and lips that could bring a man to his knees. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back, wild and unrestrained—just like her spirit. And she had just agreed to become his wife.

“I’m twice your age,” he said, his voice gravel and steel. “You sure you’re not looking for a sugar daddy?”

Aria’s mouth curved in a slow, wicked smile. “If I was, I’d pick someone who didn’t glare like he’s two seconds away from devouring me whole.”

He did glare. Mostly to hide the fact that the idea didn’t repulse him. No, it tempted him.

“Why?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged. “You need a wife to shut up your board. I need a new life. Let’s stop pretending it’s more complicated than that.”

It was more complicated than that.

Sebastian had lost his wife three years ago in a car crash that had nearly broken him. Since then, he’d buried himself in work, kept his daughter tucked safely in boarding school, and avoided anything that even smelled like intimacy. Until the rumors started—rumors that he was unfit to run Wolfe Enterprises. That he was lonely, reckless, unstable.

A marriage would fix that. A beautiful, obedient wife on his arm would calm the press, soothe the board, and distract the vultures.

But Aria Sinclair was anything but obedient.

Daughter of his deadliest competitor, heiress to a fortune built on betrayal, and currently the most enticing problem he’d ever had.

“You’re serious,” he said.

She stood, smoothing her dress down her thighs with a grace that was far too practiced. “Draw up the terms, Mr. Wolfe. Make it official. You want control. I want escape. You’ll get your headlines. I’ll get my freedom.”

“And what do I get in bed?” he asked, voice dropping low.

She didn’t flinch. “You’ll get exactly what you’re brave enough to take.”

Goddamn.

Sebastian stood too, slowly, deliberately. He was a tall man—imposing, broad-shouldered, with a presence that silenced rooms. But Aria didn’t shrink. She looked up at him like she wasn’t afraid, like she wanted him to test her.

“If we do this,” he said, “you’re mine. In public. In private. Everywhere.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” she whispered, licking her bottom lip.

The tension crackled like a live wire.

They weren’t in love. They weren’t even close.

But for the first time in years, Sebastian Wolfe felt alive.

He reached for his phone and dialed his lawyer.

“Prepare a marriage contract,” he said, eyes locked on Aria’s. “We’re getting married—this weekend.”