A dangerous proposition

Leila’s breath was steady, but her pulse roared in her ears as Adrian Kane leaned in, his breath ghosting over her skin.  His words weren’t just a warning—they were a challenge.

 Good.  She was up for a challenge. She tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze head-on.  Mr., is that a threat? Kane?”

 Adrian made a sly grin, and something obscured his gray eyes. "It is not a danger, Ms. Oke.  It’s a promise.”

 Her grip tightened on her champagne glass, but she kept her expression cool.  “You must be used to people backing down when you talk like that.”

 He laughed softly and amusedly. “You’d be surprised how often that’s true.”

 Leila forced a smile, tilting her head as if intrigued.  “Well, I hate to disappoint, but I don’t intimidate easily.”

 Adrian studied her for a long moment, as if weighing her words.  He then extended a hand toward her and placed his drink on the bar with effortless control. "Come dance with me." Leila blinked.

 A movement? Now?

 She should refuse.  She should turn and walk away.  But refusing would mean losing this moment—this rare opportunity to get closer to him, to read him, to find an opening.

 So instead, she smiled.

 “Alright.”

 She ignored how the contact caused her arm to become warm as she slipped her hand into his. His grip was firm, commanding—but not forceful.

 He led her to the dance floor, where a live band was playing a slow, sensual tune.  The lighting was dim, casting golden hues over the room.

 Adrian’s hand settled at the small of her back as he pulled her close, and Leila inhaled sharply at the feel of him.  He was solid.  Warm.  Dangerous in every way that had nothing to do with violence.

 “Tell me, Ms.  With his lips just inches from her ear, he murmured, "OKe." “How long have you been investigating me?”

 Leila met his gaze without hesitation.  “Long enough.”

 His lips curved.  “And what have you found?”

 Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to hold her ground.  “Enough to know that Kane Enterprises isn’t as clean as you pretend it is.”

 Adrian exhaled a quiet chuckle.  “You think you’re so certain.”

 “I don’t think,” she corrected.  “I know.”

 His fingers flexed against her back.  “Dangerous knowledge.”

 “I can handle danger.”

 His smirk widened.  “I don’t doubt that.”

 They moved in perfect rhythm, their steps smooth and effortless, but beneath the elegance of the dance was an undeniable tension—a battle neither of them wanted to lose.

 Leila knew she was playing with fire.

 But she had come too far to back down now.

 Adrian spun her gently and pulled her back against him with almost too much precision as the song reached its final notes. He then released her simultaneously. She swallowed, stepping back.

 Adrian’s gaze held hers.  “Come with me.”

 Leila pondered. This was it.  The moment where she could either walk away or step further into the lion’s den.

 She exhaled slowly.

 “Lead the way.”

 ---

 The Power Play 

Adrian led her through a side corridor, away from the prying eyes of the ballroom.

 Leila walked beside him, her mind racing.

 This was dangerous.

 But it was also an opportunity.

 They reached a private lounge, and Adrian pushed open the heavy wooden doors.  Inside, the space was luxurious—floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the city skyline, sleek leather chairs, and a stocked bar that likely held bottles worth more than her entire yearly salary.

 The door clicked shut behind them, and Adrian turned to face her.

 She crossed her arms.  “So, is this the part where you try to scare me into silence?”

 As he made his way over to the bar, Adrian chuckled. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, taking his time before answering.

 “I don’t intimidate people, Ms.  Oke,” he said smoothly.  “I offer them choices.”

 She scoffed.  “Is that what you call it?”

 He took a sip, watching her.  “I call it business.”

 Leila’s jaw tightened.  “Well, I’m not for sale.”

 His lips twitched in amusement.  “Good to know.”  He set his glass down with a soft clink, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a sleek tablet.

 He tapped the screen, then turned it toward her.

 Leila’s breath caught.

 It was a security photo.

 Tunde, her younger brother, shook hands with a man Leila immediately recognized as a well-known money launderer in a dimly lit café. No.

 A chill spread through her veins.

 “What is this?”  She asked in a clear voice. Adrian's gaze did not waver. “Your brother has been making some… unfortunate choices.”

 Her heart pounded.  “Tunde wouldn’t—”

 Adrian tilted his head.  “Wouldn’t what?  Get caught up in something over his head?  Because that is exactly what has occurred from where I am standing. Leila swallowed hard.

 Tunde had always been smart, but he was also young, ambitious, and sometimes reckless.  If he had gotten mixed up with the wrong people…

 No.  She wouldn’t let him go down for this.

 She forced herself to meet Adrian’s gaze.  “What do you want?”

 Adrian leaned back against the bar, considering her.

 Then he said, casually—too casually—

 “Marry me.”

 Leila looked up. “What?”

 His smirk didn’t waver.  "Wedding me." Laughter bubbled up in her chest, sharp and incredulous.  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

 Adrian sipped his whiskey, entirely unfazed.  “And yet, it’s your best option.”

 She shook her head, taking a step back.  "You're crazy." “Am I?”  He rubbed his eyes. “Think about it.  My company is under scrutiny.  The press is circling like vultures, waiting for a scandal.  What better way to silence them than by marrying a respected journalist?  Someone who, conveniently, would no longer be able to publish a damaging story about me.”

 Leila’s stomach twisted.  “You think this will fix your image?”

 He gave a shrug. “It’ll buy me time.  And in return, your brother’s little problem goes away.”

 She clenched her fists.  "Tunde did not commit any illegal act." “Maybe,” Adrian said.  “Maybe not.  But do you really want to take that risk?”

 Silence stretched between them.

 He had her cornered, and he knew it.

 If she walked away, Tunde could face an investigation.

 But if she agreed…

 Her lips parted as she exhaled shakily.  “How long?”

 Adrian smiled.  Slow.  Triumphant.

 “Six months.”

 A temporary arrangement.  A calculated lie.

 She raised her chin despite the rumbling in her stomach. “Fine,” she said.  “I’ll marry you.”