Chapter Four

Andrea's POV

"I'm only here because you said you had something important to tell me. That's it. Nothing more."

I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. God, she was beautiful when she was defensive. It reminded me of our third night together, when she'd argued with me over dinner before ending up in my lap.

"Fair enough. Come on, let's sit." I placed a gentle hand on the small of her back to guide her inside. She tensed under my touch but didn't pull away immediately. I pulled out a chair for her at the low table, then waited until she sat before taking my own seat across from her.

A discreet knock came from the attendant I'd pre-arranged.

"Tea for two," I ordered smoothly. "Earl Grey for her, black for me. And some pastries if you have them."

The man nodded and vanished. I turned back to Marie, taking a deep breath to steady the rush of emotions hitting me. Seeing her this close, after years of empty beds and relentless searching, made the words I needed to say feel heavier.

"Marie," I started, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. "I want us to get married again. For real this time."

She stared at me for a long, hot minute, her lips parting in shock. Then, suddenly, she broke down in laughter, genuine, disbelieving peals that filled the room.

"You can't be serious, right?" she asked, still laughing, wiping at the corner of her eye like this was the funniest joke she'd heard all year.

"After two years? You storm back into my life at a gala, call me wife in front of my boyfriend, and now you're proposing marriage like it's some casual lunch date?"

I didn't laugh. Didn't even smile. My expression stayed locked, dead serious, eyes holding hers until the laughter died on her lips. She sobered quickly, the realization sinking in. Her face paled slightly.

"You...you actually are serious," she whispered, more statement than question.

Before I could respond, she rose to her feet abruptly, chair scraping back.

"It seems you've not been hearing everything I've been saying since last night. I have somebody, Andrea. Mark. A good man who treats me right. If you think you can just come back after all this time and ask me to marry you on a whim, then you're sorely mistaken. I'm not that girl anymore. I'm not looking to score some quick buck."

"Marie, please. This is more than just money." I stood too, my voice dropping into that pleading tone I rarely used. I reached out but stopped short of touching her. "Sit back down. Let me explain myself first."

She hesitated, eyes narrowing with suspicion, but after a tense moment, she reluctantly lowered herself back into the chair. "Fine, talk, but make it quick."

I sat again, running a hand through my hair. The tea arrived then, steaming cups placed between us, but neither of us touched them.

"Two years ago, when I asked you to be my fake wife for that month...I might have lied to my parents about it. The whole arrangement wasn't just to put off women on the cruise. It was to secure my inheritance. My father was stepping down, but my family and the board required proof I was settled, married, and responsible. I hadn't exactly been a role model and everyone seemed to think being married would make me look good in the eyes of our investors."

"But why me?" She asked, rolling her eyes like she was already tired of my story.

"I told them I was secretly married and heading for a honeymoon on the island. I didn't think they'd buy it. I just hoped after I was gone a while and I returned, no one would talk about it anymore. But when I met you...I figured there was a way to make my story more believeable. Playing the devoted husband for that month let me inherit Forrester Industries outright. It made me a billionaire overnight, Marie."

Her eyes widened, but I pressed on, "I returned home, showed them photos we'd taken, and told them afterward that my wife, you, had to leave for important business overseas. Urgent family matters, I said. It bought me time. But now... my enemies in the business are starting to catch on. My family is pushing hard too. They want an heir, someone to carry on the Forrester name. And they definitely want to see their daughter-in-law again. In person this time. Not just pictures."

I paused, watching her face for the storm I knew was coming.

"Don't worry about the heir part. We can adopt if you don't want to get pregnant. I'm not going to trap you into anything you don't want. But I need you back, Marie. For at least long enough to settle this. I can't keep up the charade for much longer. If I don't produce my wife soon, I could lose control of the company. Everything I built, everything we shared that month could crumble."

She sat stunned, mouth slightly open, processing the mess I'd just laid at her feet. I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, the way her hands gripped the edge of the table.

Finally, she shook her head.

"No. Absolutely not. I love Mark, Andrea. I can't just leave him because you're in some crisis of your own making. This is your lie, your problem. I walked away once with the money, and that was supposed to be the end."

I knew she wouldn't agree immediately, and that was why I had come prepared. I leaned in closer, my voice urgent.

"Five million, Marie. If you agree to the deal. Ten times what I paid you last time. Think about it, security for you, your family, whatever you need. We can make the terms whatever you want."

Irritation flashed across her face, hot and immediate. She pushed back from the table, standing again.

"You really think this is about money? I'm not the girl you used to know, Andrea. I'm not desperate. Certainly not cheap, and I can't be bought again like some transaction. Keep your millions. I have a life with a man who sees me as more than a contract."

"Marie, wait—I'm sorry," I said quickly, rising to follow as she turned toward the door. "That came out wrong. I didn't mean it like that. I just—"

It was too late. She was already standing, striding toward the exit with anger. But she hadn't taken two steps forward when the elevator chimed again unexpectedly. The doors opened, and there he was, Mark Forger, stepping into the lounge like he owned the place, his eyes scanning until they landed on us. On her, and on me standing too close behind her.

Marie froze mid-step. I saw the color drain from her face, the exact moment panic and guilt collided in her expression. Mark's gaze hardened, flicking between us, his jaw tightening.

"What the hell is this?" Mark demanded, voice low but edged with betrayal. He took a step forward, fists clenched at his sides. "Marie? You said you were meeting a friend for lunch. This is him? The 'history' guy from last night?"

I held my ground, meeting his stare evenly, but inside, a possessive fire roared to life. This wasn't how I wanted this to unfold, but maybe it was the push she needed. Marie turned slightly toward me, then back to him, words failing her for the first time since she'd arrived.

"Mark, I... this isn't what it looks like," she started, but her voice wavered.

I took a half-step closer to her, not touching, but making my presence known. "She came because I asked her to. There are things we needed to settle."

Mark ignored me, focusing solely on her. "Settle? After last night? Marie, talk to me. Are you seriously considering anything with this asshole?"

I bit my lip hard to contain my rage. "I understand that you're angry, but please watch your mouth—"

"That's enough." Marie cut me off sharply. She then turned to Mark with tears in her eyes. "Can we talk outside? Please?"

Mark stared at me for a second, then at Marie, and then he turned and walked outside with Marie chasing behind him. I didn't move a muscle, I didn't need to. I had already told Marie what I wanted, and my plans had been set in motion already. And from the look of things, they were off to a good start.