The Man I Used to Forget Love CHAPTER 3

Rica’s pulse kicked hard against her throat. The room seemed to tilt a fraction. “I’m your temporary assistant.”

“You’re the woman who left Liam Hartley three weeks before he was supposed to marry you.” His voice stayed level, almost bored, as if he were reading from a file he had already memorized. “The same Liam Hartley who is currently attempting to undercut my bid on the Chen acquisition with information he should not have. I also know you paid for his graduate degree. I know you covered most of the rent on that apartment on the Upper West Side. I know the diamond bracelet he gave his secretary was purchased the same week he told you the partnership bonus would cover your wedding.”

The words landed one after another, precise and merciless. Rica felt the blood leave her face. “How..”

“I make it my business to know the weaknesses of men who try to steal from me.” He finally sat, leaning forward just enough to close the distance without touching. The movement brought the faint scent of cedar and something colder, like winter air trapped in expensive fabric. “Hartley betrayed you. He is currently trying to betray me. I am in a position to destroy him professionally. You are in a position to help me do it publicly.”

Her mouth had gone dry. She tasted metal. “I’m listening.”

“Marry me.”

The two words dropped between them like a blade laid carefully on the polished surface of the desk. For a moment the only sound was the soft tick of the clock on the far wall and the distant rush of traffic thirty floors below.

Rica stared at him. The winter-water eyes did not blink. “You’re serious.”

“I do not joke about contracts.” He opened a drawer with the same economy of motion he applied to everything and slid a thin folder across the desk. The paper made a soft, final sound. “A temporary arrangement. Six months. Possibly less. We announce the engagement immediately. We marry within thirty days. You appear at every event where Hartley and his new circle will see us. You smile. You look like a woman who upgraded. In return, I ensure his career does not survive the year. When the acquisition is secure and Hartley is finished, we dissolve the marriage quietly. You walk away with a settlement large enough that you never have to count pennies again.”

Heat flooded her face anger, disbelief, and something sharper she refused to name twisting together beneath her ribs. “You want a wife for revenge and a body for convenience.”

“I want a partner who understands the value of leverage.” His gaze dropped, briefly, to her mouth, then returned to her eyes with the same winter calm. “While we are married, the marriage is real in every way that matters to the public and in every way that matters behind closed doors. I will not be made a fool of by a cold arrangement. You will live in my penthouse. You will share my bed. You will not take other lovers. Neither will I. When the game ends, we end. Cleanly.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to drown in. Rica’s hands had curled into fists in her lap. She forced them open. “And if I say no?”

“Then you continue as my temporary assistant until the permanent one returns. Hartley continues his quiet campaign. I continue mine. The outcome will simply take longer, and you will have no stake in it.” He tilted his head a fraction. “But you already know what it costs to give everything to the wrong man. You will not make that mistake twice. That is why I chose you.”

“Why me?” The question came out lower than she intended. “There must be a hundred women who would smile on your arm for the right price.”

“Because Hartley still watches you.” Derrick’s voice remained even, but something colder moved beneath it. “Because every time he sees you on my arm it will cost him something he cannot afford dignity, status, the carefully constructed image of the man who walked away unscathed. And because the woman who walked out of that apartment three weeks ago is not the same woman who walked in. You already understand the price of loyalty given to someone who does not deserve it. You will not waste it again.”

She rose to her feet. Her knees wobbled; the floor seemed to sway beneath the carpet that was worth a fortune. “I will give you an answer in two days.”

“Do.” He did not stand up. He only looked at her with the same steady gaze. “The contract is written. You can read it. And have your attorney check it out. I’m giving you two days to accept it.”

Rica did not touch the folder; she left it where it was, untouched – like a fire that needed extinguishing. In the elevator, Rica pressed her head against the chilly glass and watched the floors go by. And as the city grew bigger around her, cold and unrelenting, Rica murmured her last truth.

“Never again.”

However, “never again” had not taken into account the man who saw her as both a threat and a prize and made both seem like the only thing real and true in years.

That night, she couldn’t sleep. The room of the hotel felt tighter than the one she’d occupied there three weeks ago, the walls feeling nearer and the oxygen scarcer. She sat on the hotel bed, with the file open on her lap, reading every line two times. The words were terse and cold, and even poetic in their cruelty. Six months at the most. Financial disclosure. Iron-clad non-disclosure. Terms of the settlement that would guarantee her financial stability and freedom. The price: public displays, private exclusivity, and the undoing of the man who had lived in her future like it was a second-hand suit.

She shut the folder and gazed up at the ceiling at 2:14 a.m. The memories came back to her without invitation Liam’s hands in Jessica’s hair, the diamond bracelet catching the light, the words he had uttered, as if her five years of sacrifice was a simple accounting mistake. She thought about the console table she had sanded herself, the speakers she had picked, and the quiet evenings she spent working out how long they could last before the partnership would come through. She remembered the moment the door clicked shut behind her and the city swallowed the sound.

Derrick White didn’t make false promises. That’s what made the difference. He set out the terms of the bargain, just as you would in a contract, and let her determine whether the price was too high or whether he was offering enough leverage. Not one lie or promise of eternal devotion. Just the clear lines of practicality.

It was early morning when she took herself to a lawyer, whom she located through a confidential recommendation from the agency. She was older, shrewdly observant, and absolutely unshocked by the arrangement. Two hours later, Rica carried away a file that felt heavy and light all at once.