Chapter 10

The knock on Sophia's bedroom door came at 6:47 AM, three minutes before Ethan's usual workout time. She knew because she'd been lying awake since five, staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment of their conversation at the Whitney.

"Come in," she called, sitting up in bed and pulling her robe tighter around herself.

Ethan appeared in the doorway, already dressed in his workout clothes, holding two cups of coffee. His hair was slightly mussed, and there was something vulnerable about his expression that made her heart skip.

"Peace offering," he said, holding out one of the cups. "I know things got complicated last night."

"Thank you." She accepted the coffee gratefully, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. "You didn't have to....."

"I wanted to." He sat on the edge of her bed, careful to maintain some distance. "I also wanted to apologize for putting you in an awkward position. I know you asked for time, and then I went and made that speech about not going anywhere."

"You don't need to apologize for being honest about your feelings."

"Don't I? We have a contract, Sophia. A professional arrangement. I shouldn't have complicated that by bringing emotions into it."

She studied his face, noting the careful way he was holding himself, the professional mask that had slipped back into place. "Is that what you really think? That you made a mistake by telling me how you feel?"

"I think I made things harder for you than they needed to be."

"And what about what you need? What you want?"

"What I want is irrelevant if it makes you uncomfortable."

The careful politeness in his voice made her chest ache. This wasn't the man who'd held her while they danced, who'd looked at her like she was the most precious thing in his world. This was the controlled, distant businessman who'd first walked into her office four weeks ago.

"Ethan, look at me."

He raised his eyes to hers, and she saw the uncertainty there, the fear that he'd pushed too hard and ruined everything.

"I'm not uncomfortable because you told me how you feel," she said softly. "I'm uncomfortable because I don't know what to do with it. With any of this."

"You don't have to do anything with it. We can go back to the way things were before."

"Can we? Really?" She set down her coffee and turned to face him fully. "Because I don't think I can pretend that conversation never happened. I don't think I can pretend I don't feel something for you too."

Something flickered in his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe we don't have to figure everything out right now. Maybe we can just... see what happens."

"See what happens," he repeated slowly.

"Is that not enough for you? Because I understand if it's not. I know you're used to having clear plans and defined outcomes."

"It's enough." His voice was rough with emotion. "It's more than enough."

The relief in his voice made her realize how much her uncertainty had been affecting him. "Good. Because I have a confession to make."

"What kind of confession?"

"I've never done this before. The whole fake relationship thing, obviously, but also... I've never been involved with someone like you. Someone who moves in these circles, who has this kind of life." She gestured around the luxurious bedroom. "I'm terrified of doing something wrong, of embarrassing you or myself."

"You could never embarrass me."

"Couldn't I? What if I use the wrong fork at dinner? What if I say something inappropriate to one of your business associates? What if—"

"Sophia." He reached out, taking her hand in his. "Do you remember what I told you the night of the gala? About being yourself?"

"Yes."

"I meant it. The woman who impressed Margaret Ashford last night, who handled that reporter with such grace, who made James Morrison laugh until his sides hurt—that's who you are. That's who I..." He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. "That's who I care about."

"You were going to say something else."

"Was I?"

"You were going to say 'that's who I love,' weren't you?"

The question hung between them, charged with possibility. Ethan's hand tightened around hers, and she could see the truth in his eyes even before he spoke.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I was."

"But you stopped yourself."

"Because I didn't want to scare you away. Because I know this is already overwhelming enough without me adding that kind of pressure."

Sophia felt tears prick her eyes. "What if I told you that hearing it wouldn't scare me away? What if I told you that I've been falling for you too, and the only thing that scares me is how right this feels?"

"Then I'd say that I love you, Sophia Martinez. I love your strength and your compassion and the way you make me want to be better than I am. I love that you're not impressed by my money or intimidated by my reputation. I love that you see me—really see me—and somehow still think I'm worth your time."

The words broke something open in her chest, releasing emotions she'd been holding back for weeks. "I love you too," she whispered. "I love you, and it terrifies me, and I don't know what we're supposed to do now."

"Now we figure it out together."

He leaned forward, and she met him halfway, their lips finding each other in a kiss that was soft and tentative at first, then deeper, more certain. When they finally broke apart, Sophia felt like something fundamental had shifted between them.

"So," she said, slightly breathless. "What happens now?"

"Now I skip my workout and make you breakfast, and we talk about how we want to handle this."

"Handle what?"

"The fact that our fake engagement just became very real."

The words sent a thrill through her. "Are you asking me to marry you for real?"

"I'm asking if you'd want to. Eventually. When you're ready. When we've figured out how to be together without contracts and arrangements and business obligations."

"You mean when we've figured out how to be together just because we want to be?"

"Exactly."

She looked down at the sapphire ring on her finger, then back up at him. "I think I'd like that very much."

His smile was radiant. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. But first, we need to get through Isabella's engagement party tomorrow night. As fake fiancés."

"Why fake? We just admitted we love each other."

"Because we still have a contract to fulfill. Because your revenge plot isn't finished yet. Because..." She paused, thinking. "Because I want to be sure that when we do this for real, it's completely separate from all of this other stuff."

"You want to start fresh."

"I want to start honest. No contracts, no arrangements, no ulterior motives. Just us, choosing each other because we want to."

"I can live with that." He stood, pulling her up with him. "But for the record, I'm choosing you regardless of any contract."

"Good to know."

"Come on, let's go make breakfast. I make excellent pancakes."

"You make pancakes?"

"I make excellent pancakes. Another hidden talent."

As they made their way to the kitchen, Sophia felt lighter than she had in weeks. The uncertainty that had been plaguing her was gone, replaced by a sense of rightness, of being exactly where she belonged.

"Can I ask you something?" she said as Ethan began pulling ingredients from the cabinets.

"Anything."

"What changed your mind about the revenge plot? When did you decide it didn't matter anymore?"

He was quiet for a moment, measuring flour into a bowl. "The night of the gala, when I saw you talking to Isabella. I realized that I didn't care about making her jealous or proving anything to her. All I cared about was making sure you were okay, making sure you felt supported and confident."

"That's when you knew?"

"That's when I admitted it to myself. But I think I've been falling for you since that first day in your office, when you told me my plan was morally questionable and then agreed to help me anyway."

"I needed the money."

"You needed the money, but you still had conditions. You still insisted on doing things your way, on maintaining your integrity even when it would have been easier to just go along with whatever I wanted."

"Is that unusual in your world?"

"It's unheard of." He began whisking the batter with more force than necessary. "Most people tell me what they think I want to hear."

"And you don't want that?"

"God, no. I want someone who challenges me, who calls me out when I'm being an ass, who makes me think about things differently." He looked up at her. "I want someone like you."

"Well, you're in luck, because I'm pretty good at all of those things."

"You're perfect at all of those things."

As they cooked breakfast together, moving around each other with an ease that felt natural and right, Sophia couldn't help but think about how much her life had changed. A month ago, she'd been a struggling single woman drowning in bills and responsibilities. Now she was in love with a billionaire, living in a penthouse, and about to navigate the complexities of New York high society.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Ethan asked, as if reading her mind.

"About what?"

"About all of this. About me. I know it's a lot to take in."

"It is a lot," she admitted. "But I'm not having second thoughts about you. About us."

"What are you having second thoughts about?"

"Tomorrow night. Isabella's party. Meeting Harrison Blackwell." She flipped a pancake with more force than necessary. "I'm worried about being in the same room as the woman who hurt you."

"She can't hurt me anymore."

"Can't she? She's about to marry the man you consider your father figure. She's going to be a permanent part of your life."

"She's going to be a permanent part of my past," he corrected. "You're my future."

The certainty in his voice made her heart skip. "You sound so sure."

"I am sure. Are you?"

She looked at him, this man who'd turned her world upside down in the best possible way, and realized she was. "Yes. I'm sure."

"Good. Because I have something for you."

"Another gift? Ethan, you don't need to keep buying me things."

"It's not that kind of gift." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope. "It's a contract."

"A contract?"

"Our original agreement. I'm voiding it."

Sophia stared at the envelope. "You're what?"

"I'm voiding our contract. Effective immediately. Which means you're free to leave if you want to, or stay if you want to. But either way, it's your choice, not an obligation."

"And if I choose to stay?"

"Then you stay because you want to be here. Because you want to be with me. Not because you need the money or because you signed a piece of paper."

The gesture was so unexpected, so generous, that tears pricked her eyes. "What about Isabella's party? What about your revenge plan?"

"I'll figure something else out. Or I won't. Maybe it's time to let go of the past and focus on the future."

"But what if I want to go through with it? What if I want to help you finish what we started?"

"Then we do it together, as partners. Not because you have to, but because you choose to."

She took the envelope from him, feeling the weight of it in her hands. "This is our contract?"

"Every page of it."

"And you're really okay with voiding it?"

"I'm more than okay with it. I'm relieved." He moved closer, his hands settling on her waist. "I don't want you here because of a contract, Sophia. I want you here because this is where you want to be."

"It is where I want to be."

"Then stay."

"I will."

"And tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night, we go to that party as a team. Not as fake fiancés, but as two people who love each other and want to support each other."

"I like the sound of that."

"Me too."

As they finished making breakfast, Sophia felt a sense of peace settle over her. The uncertainty, the fear, the constant questioning of what was real and what was pretend all of it had lifted. She was exactly where she wanted to be, with exactly who she wanted to be with.

Tomorrow night would bring new challenges, new complications. But for the first time since this whole adventure began, she felt ready to face them.

Because she wouldn't be facing them alone.

Later that morning, as they sat on the terrace eating pancakes and reading the newspaper, Sophia's phone buzzed with a text from her mother's nurse.

"She's asking for you," the message read. "She's having a good day and wants to hear about your engagement."

"I should go see her," Sophia said, showing Ethan the text.

"We should go see her," he corrected. "If you want me to meet her, that is."

"You want to meet my mother?"

"I want to meet the woman who raised the person I'm in love with. I want to ask her permission to marry her daughter."

"Ethan, you don't need to..."

"I want to do this right, Sophia. All of it. The old-fashioned way."

Looking at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Sophia felt her heart swell with love. "She's going to adore you."

"I hope so. Because I plan to be around for a very long time."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

As they prepared to leave for the care facility, Sophia caught a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror. She looked different somehow happier, more confident, more settled. She looked like a woman who was exactly where she belonged.

And for the first time in her adult life, she felt like one too.