Terms and Temptations: The CEO spoils me silly

Am I dreaming… or is this heaven? I thought I died. I know I died. I remember the coldness that settled in my chest like a final breath. The sting of betrayal. The flash of steel. The warmth of my own blood pooling beneath me, seeping into my favorite cream blouse — the one Diane said brought out my eyes. Diane. She was the last face I saw. The same one who’s calling my name now. "Emma... Emma..." At first, I thought it’s an echo. A cruel trick of memory. Then her voice grows louder, cutting through the dense fog in my head. “Emma! Get up, we’re going to be late for the interview!” My eyes fly open. The ceiling. The off-white cracks. The gentle hum of the standing fan in the corner. It’s all… familiar. Too familiar. I sit up slowly, my breath shallow. The blanket falls away from my body. I look down at my hands steady, warm, alive. Alive? As I sit up in bed, memories flood my mind like a tidal wave. I remembered the night I died, the feeling of the blade piercing my skin, the

The rooftop glittered like a dream. Lights flickered in soft golds and violets, music thumped in waves that seemed to pulse right through my skin, and laughter rose around me in bursts like firecrackers. I sipped something that tasted like strawberries and summer secrets, swaying a little to the beat. This was it. My first party. My first real step into a world I’d been locked out of. And God, it was intoxicating ….. the air, the freedom, the heat. I didn’t know how many drinks I’d had. Two? Four? Something sweet, then something fizzy, then something with a strange blue tint I couldn’t pronounce. I stopped counting after the second glass. Tonight wasn’t for numbers. It was for forgetting. For remembering who I could be. “Careful,” a deep voice murmured as someone caught my elbow. I stumbled slightly, laughing at something a stranger said, but the voice that steadied me wasn’t the same. It was silk and smoke. I looked up, and the man’s face was in the shadows. All I saw was

Emma’s POV A week had passed since that night. Since the rooftop, the laughter, the haze. Since the stranger with hands like fire and lips that left bruises in places I didn’t know could ache. And I was trying… really trying… to forget him. But he haunted me. Not in name, not in face—I never even saw his fully—but in how he made me feel. Like I had finally lived for once, only to crash into the morning after. He lingered like smoke in my lungs, like a melody I couldn’t stop humming no matter how hard I tried. Still, life didn’t care about one-night stands and blurry memories. Life demanded rent. Life wanted breakfast. Life wanted structure. So I dressed in the most professional outfit I could find—a fitted black skirt, a cream blouse, and pumps I bought during a hopeful “starting my life” phase back in college. I even brushed out my hair until it gleamed and kept my makeup subtle. Just enough to hide the sleeplessness clinging beneath my eyes like ghosts. Today was important.

(Emma’s POV) The moment I stepped out of the elevator, the silence of the top floor wrapped around me like a warning. No receptionist. No assistant. Just stillness… and him. Xander Blake stood by the window, the Manhattan skyline blazing behind him like a prophecy. His hands were in his pockets, blazer off, sleeves rolled up, and his tie slightly loosened...power, undone. He didn’t look at me when he spoke. “You changed your mind so quickly,” he said, cocky and smooth. “Didn’t think you’d cave before sunset.” I closed the distance between us, slowly. “I didn’t cave. I evolved.” That made him turn. His eyes skimmed over me, pausing at my fitted dress, then rising to meet mine. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” “I call it strategy.” I shrugged. “You made an offer. I’ve decided to accept.” Xander arched a brow, his tone dry. “And here I thought I’d have to chase you a little longer.” “You’re not that charming,” I replied, even though he kind of was—in the most irritating

“I’m not sleeping in the same room as you,” I said the moment we stepped into the penthouse. Xander tossed his blazer on the couch, casting me a glance over his shoulder with that irritatingly smug smile. “You’re my wife now. Technically, you already did.” “Technically, that was before the contract. And before I knew your voice well enough to regret it.” His laugh was low and lazy. “Fine. Guest room’s yours.” I didn’t thank him. Just turned and walked away. Behind the safety of the guest room door, I sagged against the wall, the velvet hem of my gown brushing the floor like a memory I was desperate to shed. Too many eyes had been on me tonight. Too many questions, tucked neatly beneath polite smiles. Natalie Blake had the poise of a queen and the gaze of a hawk. Her compliments had been lovely—but there was nothing soft or uncalculated about her. Still... it wasn’t her steel that lingered. It was Danielle. Her warmth. Her sincerity. The way she held my hands like we were old