Chapter 4: Revenge Delayed

(Meghan’s POV)

I turned around to look at him, my chest rising and falling as I pulled my arm away from his hand. “About what? Another game? What’s this one called? Let me Rescue the Server?”

“This is not what you think,” he said, and his voice was nothing like it had been on the hotel roof.

His swagger and self-assurance had disappeared, and he couldn’t hide the urgency in his voice. “I don’t deserve your time after tonight, but I’m in trouble right now, and you’re the only one who can help me.”

I gave a sharp, bitter laugh. “Help you? You demeaned me for five hundred dollars.”

“Please, I’ll do anything... Alright, I’ll pay you,” he said.

The words hung in the dark air like a solid weight.

“How much?” I asked.

Adrian blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if he had expected me to shout at him, not talk about numbers. “What?”

“How much would you pay me to help you?” I asked, stepping closer until the metal tray pressed against my stomach.

“I’ll pay you whatever you want,” he said, his eyes fixed on my face. “What is your asking price, Meghan?”

I should have told him to fuck off, but I remembered the hundred-thousand-dollar tuition bill Sofia needed to pay, and the visa sponsorship she would lose if she didn’t get the money by Friday.

“What do you need?” I asked.

Adrian breathed out quietly, his shoulders dropping slightly. “My dad says if I don’t prove that I’m settling down, he’ll give the whole hotel empire to my brother Julian. I just told him that I’m engaged to a designer named Meghan.” He glanced at the sketchbook sticking out of my catering apron. “And you’re a designer.”

“You don’t even know me,” I replied.

“Meghan Cole,” he said, his voice lowering. “I know your name.”

It was strange, the sudden warm feeling in my chest, but I brushed it aside immediately.

“I need a fiancée,” Adrian said again, coming closer until I could smell the expensive woodsmoke cologne on his jacket. “Just for a few months. We’ll have a real wedding, but it’s only a formality. Once the papers are signed and I’m CEO, we’re done and we part ways.”

“So, what’s in it for me?” I asked.

“Whatever you want,” he replied. “You said you wanted to design one of his hotels. I can make that happen with one phone call.”

I looked him in the face. His expression was completely open, his eyes pleading with me. He didn’t resemble the smug billionaire who had accepted the cash to trick and kiss me last night.

“What are you offering?” I asked.

He paused. “Fifty thousand dollars?”

“A hundred thousand dollars,” I replied, my voice steady. “Wire it to me before Friday morning, and make it certified.”

Adrian said nothing for a second before he replied, “Done.”

I tightened my fingers around the tray and said, “And the design job is permanent. Not probationary. Full benefits. I want the contract tomorrow morning before I even talk to your dad.”

He blinked, a small, surprised smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve considered this.”

“I’ve been considering exactly what my time is worth to a man like you,” I said, staring into his whiskey-colored eyes. “And there won’t be any form of intimacy, Adrian—not behind closed doors. When this contract runs out, we leave without a care in the world.”

“Agreed,” he said.

“There’s one last thing,” I said, the plan taking shape and becoming real in my mind. “The wedding ceremony itself. I plan it, and I control the entire thing. You don’t put me in a box I can’t get out of.”

He nodded slowly and extended his right hand toward me. “Alright, Meghan. We’ll do it.”

I took a breath and grabbed his hand.

Adrian whispered, “I’ll get my personal lawyer to prepare the nondisclosure agreements and the employment contracts tonight. I’ll meet you outside your apartment at ten tomorrow morning, and we’ll introduce you to my dad at noon.”

“Fine,” I said.

His fingers lingered on mine for just a moment before I pulled away. “Meghan,” he said. “Thank you. I know I don’t deserve this help after what I did on the roof.”

I backed away into the grass.

“You’re absolutely right,” I replied. “You don’t.”

I turned back to the service entrance of the mansion, my heart pounding as if it were in excruciating pain.

We had made an agreement, and the trap was set. I was his savior, and he thought I was his golden ticket to the executive suite.

He had no idea I already had my own plans to destroy his entire legacy.

I was going to stand in front of his billionaire father, his arrogant brother, and all the high-society press at that altar and say no to his face.

The golden boy was about to discover what it felt like to be humiliated in public.

Until then, I had to pretend to love a man I now hated.

After all, revenge delayed is not revenge denied.