For Emma Montgomery, life as the pampered daughter of Manhattan's elite carried the weight of impossible expectations. Groomed from birth to lead her family's corporate dynasty, genuine love seemed an elusive dream amid the superficial trappings of wealth. That is, until a shocking proposal opened doors to an unexpected future. When her father arranges for Emma to enter a marriage contract with James Reynolds, the charismatic heir to a powerful political family, she sees it as an escape from her turbulent past. But neither Emma nor James could foresee the firestorm of passion and betrayal that would be sparked by their convenient union. As the one-year countdown on their sham marriage begins, Emma finds herself falling for James's unexpected depths and charm. But James has his own demons - bound by duty to fulfill his father's Machiavellian ambitions while his own heart belongs to another. As cordial pretenses melt into smoldering intimacy, their worlds collide in a maelstrom of corporate greed, political ambition, and star-crossed desire. In this sumptuous tale of love among New York's upper echelons, Emma and James become delicious pawns in a high-stakes game they never imagined playing. With every blistering secret revealed, every heart-wrenching choice posed, they must decide whether to surrender to the inescapable lure of power and privilege, or burn it all to the ground for a love too intoxicating to deny.
View MoreChapter One
The fancy ballroom at the Metropolitan Hotel was super luxurious, with sparkly chandeliers and gold decorations everywhere. It was the place for rich, important people in New York City to see and be seen. Emma Montgomery walked in on her father's arm, smiling fakely even though she didn't want to be there.
Emma hated these stuck-up high society parties. She couldn't stand having small talk with snobby social climbers while also trying to get potential investors interested in her family's real estate company, Montgomery Corporation. At twenty-five years old, Emma's life path was already set - she was the heir who had to take over the multi-billion dollar business from her father one day, whether she liked it or not.
As always, the ballroom was jam-packed with people dressed up in fancy tuxedos. The air smelled strongly of expensive perfumes, cigar smoke, and desperation from people trying to climb the social ladder. Emma's father was immediately whisked away by a group of rich old men smoking cigars. Emma headed straight for the bar, in desperate need of a drink.
She was sipping her first glass of champagne when her eyes landed on a striking man across the room. Even from far away, his chiseled jawline was captivating, and surprisingly, he flashed her a warm, friendly smile. That couldn't be James Reynolds, could it? The rumors painted the notorious heir to the wealthy Reynolds real estate empire as an arrogant, brooding man. But his welcoming demeanor seemed to contradict those stories.
Intrigued, Emma found herself shamelessly checking him out, admiring the muscles in his chest and the confident power in his stride. She mentally scolded herself. Get a grip, Montgomery. Don't let yourself be charmed by a pretty face.
Emboldened by the man's surprisingly affable smile, she sidled up to order a cocktail. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you from across the room," Emma said with a friendly smile of her own. "I'm Emma Montgomery."
The man's expression instantly morphed into an arrogant sneer, his earlier warmth vanishing in an instant. "Do I look like I care who you are?" he asked in a rude, dismissive tone that left Emma stunned.
So the rumors were true after all. His friendly overture had just been an act. "I...I was just trying to introduce myself," she stammered, thrown by his abrupt shift in demeanor.
"Well, don't bother. Your little Montgomery Corporation is barely a blip on my family's empire," James scoffed derisively. "Now run along back to your little party, little girl."
Emma's mouth dropped open in shock at his outright rudeness. How dare he speak to her that way, after luring her in with that warm smile! The pleasant, welcoming demeanor she'd detected moments ago had been an illusion, a mask he'd dropped to reveal his true arrogant, callous nature.
Before Emma could respond, a familiar voice called out from behind her. "Emma, my dear, there you are."
She turned to find her father, Robert Montgomery, his eyes alight with a mixture of pride and mischief. "I trust you've met James Reynolds?"
Emma nodded, her brow furrowed. "Unfortunately, yes. He's just as rude as the rumors suggest."
Robert let out a hearty chuckle. "Well, you two had best get acquainted. After all, you'll both be getting married very soon."
Emma nearly choked on her cocktail. "Married? To that arrogant jerk?" She whirled on James, eyes blazing. "Over my dead body!"
James looked equally appalled. "There's no way in hell I'd marry some spoiled, daddy's little princess like you," he spat out venomously.
"How dare you!" Emma shrieked, causing partygoers to turn at the commotion. She fought the urge to slap that smug look right off his face.
Her father frowned. "Now, now, children. No need for hostility. I've orchestrated this merger to join our companies. You'll be married!"
Anger bubbled within Emma. To be forced into this against her will was appalling.
Just as she opened her mouth to protest further, a familiar figure caught her eye - Mark, her ex-boyfriend who had cheated on her with her best friend Amanda.
A tidal wave of hurt and humiliation crashed over Emma as she watched them strolling hand-in-hand, acting every bit the happy couple without a care in the world. She had finally started to piece her life back together after their devastating betrayal, but the sight of them together so brazenly reopened those still-fresh wounds.
Hadn't she suffered enough at their hands? The lies, the months of being made a fool of right under her nose? Emma had loved Mark with every fiber of her being, and had pictured growing old together after marriage. Only to have her heart shattered into a million jagged pieces when she discovered his sordid affair with Amanda - her supposed best friend.
The anger, the pain, the gut-wrenching devastation she'd endured...Emma had never truly healthily dealt with those emotions before trying to move on. So to have Mark and Amanda's indiscretion shoved in her face so publicly at this high society event, a place where reputations and public perception meant everything, felt like the ultimate insult.
How dare they flaunt their happiness after destroying her so completely? I haven't done a damn thing to get back at the people who ruined me, and they dare to parade around their affair like this, humiliating me even further in front of everyone?
A white-hot rage unlike anything Emma had ever experienced blazed through her veins. Without a second thought, she whirled around and grabbed James Reynolds, the man she had just declared she'd rather die than marry. She crushed her lips against his in a heated, desperate kiss, pouring every ounce of her hurt, her anger, her overpowering need for vengeance into that scorching lip-lock.
It was a vicious punishment - both for Mark witnessing his ex-girlfriend desecrating her virtue with another man, and for James getting a taste of his own arrogant medicine after the dismissive way he'd treated her moments before.
At first, James went stiff with shock. But then his hands seized her waist, pulling Emma flush against his solid frame as he started devouring her mouth with bruising force. It was a filthy, punishing kiss, all teeth, and desperation, but the illicit thrill jolted through Emma like an electric shock.
When they finally broke apart, Emma turned to see Mark's face contorted with rage before he stormed off, Amanda hurrying behind. A vicious rush of satisfaction swelled in Emma at destroying his smug calm.
She turned her fiery gaze back to James, boldly meeting his smoldering whiskey eyes. "You're welcome," she breathed her voice a mixture of disdain and challenge, before striding away and leaving him stunned.
Emma laughed softly as she adjusted the collar of Mark’s suit, her fingers brushing against his chest. They stood in the office conference room, the sunlight streaming through the glass walls, casting a golden hue over them. Mark grinned at her, his eyes filled with warmth, as if they shared an inside joke no one else could understand. “Honestly, Mark,” Emma teased, stepping back to admire her handiwork, “if I didn’t step in to save you, you’d walk into this meeting looking like a wrinkled mess.” Mark chuckled, his voice low and smooth. “That’s why I keep you around, Emma. You’re not just the brains of this operation—you’re also the style police.” Their laughter echoed through the room, a stark contrast to the tension radiating from James, who stood just outside the conference room, watching them through the glass. His jaw clenched as he saw Emma place a hand on Mark’s arm, her touch lingering just a second too long. When the meeting concluded, Emma and Mark
James stood at the doorway of Emma’s office, the weight of his desperation etched into his features. He hesitated for a moment, watching her from afar. Emma sat at her desk, flipping through documents with practiced precision, her demeanor calm and collected.He cleared his throat, stepping inside. “Emma,” he began, his voice softer than usual, almost hesitant.She didn’t look up, keeping her eyes on the document in front of her. “If you’re here about work, leave it on the desk. If it’s personal, I’m not interested.”James sighed, stepping closer. “Emma, please. We need to talk.”At this, she glanced up, her eyes cold and unreadable. “About what, James? More excuses? More promises you won’t keep?”“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I’m not here to make excuses. I just... I just want us to fix this.”Emma leaned back in her chair, cros
James stood in the kitchen, the faint aroma of rosemary and garlic filling the air. He wiped his hands on a towel, glancing nervously at the clock. Emma would be home soon. He had spent the entire day preparing her favorite meal—grilled salmon with creamy mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus. It wasn’t just about the food; it was about the message he hoped to send.He wanted her to know he was trying. That he was sorry. That he couldn’t lose her.When the front door opened, James quickly straightened his shirt, running a hand through his hair. He plastered a smile on his face as Emma stepped into the living room, her heels clicking against the wooden floor.“Emma,” he greeted warmly. “You’re home.”She paused, her sharp gaze cutting through him. “I can see that, James. What is it this time?”He gestured toward the dining table, which was set with candles and her favorite white-and-gold china. &ldqu
Sarah leaned back against her couch, a glass of wine in her hand, the room dimly lit by the glow of her TV. Her mind was swirling with frustration and indignation over her earlier conversation with James. His dismissive attitude and hollow promises were beginning to wear on her, but she wasn’t about to let him win. She was determined to remind him that she wasn’t a woman to be ignored.A sharp knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced at her phone, her brow furrowing. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and James certainly wouldn’t show up unannounced. Setting her glass down, she rose to her feet and walked to the door, peeking through the peephole.“Tyler?” she muttered under her breath, a mix of surprise and annoyance flashing across her face. What was he doing here?She opened the door, leaning against the frame with a raised brow. “What do you want?”Tyler stood there, his hands shoved into the pocket
James sat in his home office, the soft glow of his desk lamp illuminating the scattered papers before him. His mind was a whirlwind, consumed by Emma’s growing defiance and the precarious state of his plans. His phone vibrated for the fifth time in the last hour, the screen lighting up with Sarah’s name. He clenched his jaw, refusing to answer.A few moments later, another message popped up: "James, you can’t ignore me forever. Call me now, or I’ll handle this my way."He cursed under his breath, tossing his pen onto the desk. “Damn it, Sarah,” he muttered. The last thing he needed was for her to create more chaos in his already fragile situation. With a resigned sigh, he picked up the phone and dialed her number.The call connected almost instantly. “Finally!” Sarah’s voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “What the hell, James? You’ve been ignoring my calls and texts for days.”“I&r
Emma sat in the plush armchair by the window, a glass of wine cradled in her hand as she stared out at the city skyline. The Montgomery estate was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of traffic in the distance. She had spent the day drowning herself in paperwork, trying to ignore the growing tension between her and James. Tonight, she resolved, she would give herself peace.A soft knock on the door disrupted her thoughts. She didn’t bother turning. “Come in,” she said, her tone devoid of warmth.James entered hesitantly, his usual confidence replaced with a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. He closed the door behind him and took a deep breath.“Emma,” he began softly, his voice almost pleading.She didn’t respond immediately, swirling the wine in her glass. “If this is another attempt to lecture me, James, I suggest you save your breath.”He moved closer, his hands shoved into his pockets as if tryin
Emma sat in her sleek office, her pen tapping rhythmically against the surface of her desk. The glow of her laptop illuminated her face as she reviewed the latest financial reports. A knock on the door interrupted her focus."Come in," she said without looking up, her tone clipped.James stormed in, his face a mixture of frustration and urgency. He didn’t wait for an invitation to sit down. Instead, he slammed the door shut and stood in front of her desk."Emma," he began, his voice sharp, "I just got off the phone with Senator Donald’s campaign team. They’re saying the funds promised to them have been rescinded. Care to explain?"Emma looked up, her expression calm, almost indifferent. "I withdrew the funds."James blinked, stunned. "You what?""I withdrew the funds," she repeated, leaning back in her chair. Her voice was steady, but there was a glint of defiance in her eyes. "That agreement was my father’s, not mine. I see no r
The phone on James’s desk buzzed with a ferocity that matched his frayed nerves. He glanced at the screen, knowing full well who it was. Senator Donald.He let it ring twice before picking up. “Dad,” he said, his voice a mix of frustration and resignation.“Don’t you ‘Dad’ me,” Senator Donald’s voice boomed through the speaker. “What the hell is going on over there? Do you have any idea the position you’re putting this family in?”James pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m handling it.”“Handling it?” Donald’s tone dripped with disbelief. “Handling it? From where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re letting everything spiral out of control. A divorce, James? Do you understand what that word even means for people like us?”James sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not letting anything happen. Emma’s the one who’s making this impossible. She—”Donald cut him off. “I don’t care what Emma’s doing. Your job is to keep her in line. That’s why we agreed to this arrangement in the first place
James slumped into the leather chair in Sarah’s dimly lit apartment, the scent of her lavender candles mingling with the faint aroma of her perfume. He loosened his tie, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion.Sarah appeared in the doorway, wearing a silk robe that barely reached her knees. She held a glass of red wine in one hand, her expression amused. “Well, well, look who decided to show up,” she teased, setting the wine glass down on the coffee table.“Don’t start,” James muttered, rubbing his temples.Sarah tilted her head, her dark curls cascading over her shoulder. “Someone’s in a mood. What’s wrong? Did wifey give you the cold shoulder again?”James shot her a glare. “This isn’t a joke, Sarah. My life is falling apart.”She raised an eyebrow and settled onto the couch beside him, tucking her legs under her. “Alright, Mr. Doom and Gloom, spill it. What’s got you so worked up?”He sighed deeply, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Emma’s pushing for a divorce. S
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