CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
NATHAN
THE BAR WAS dimly lit. It was the kind of place where deals were made in hushed voices over top-shelf whiskey.
It wasn’t my usual scene; I preferred private lounges where discretion was guaranteed but Dalton had insisted.
It was his way of forcing me to “relax” while we talked about the one thing that had consumed my thoughts more than it should have. Elise.
The polished wood of the bar gleamed under the soft golden lights, and the faint hum of a jazz band playing in the corner provided a smooth, rhythmic background to our conversation.
I could smell the faint trace of expensive cigars in the air, mixing with the sharp scent of whiskey.
There was a coolness to the room, the kind that came from years of secrets passed between men like us, but tonight it felt a little too exposed.
So,” Dalton drawled, studying me like I was a puzzle missing a piece. “How’s it going with our situation? Do I need to get fitted for my tux yet?”
I exhaled sharply, bringing the glass to my lips. The amber liquid burned as it slid down my throat, its warmth spreading through me. I wasn’t sure if it was the brandy or the conversation that was making me uneasy. “Fine.” I answered, ignoring his jab about the tuxedo.
Dalton snorted. “Fine? That’s it? You have a whole damn clock ticking on this inheritance stipulation, and ‘fine’ is the best you got?”
I said nothing at first, rolling the glass in my palm. He wasn’t wrong. The clock was ticking, nine weeks left to be exact. Nine weeks until my birthday. Nine weeks to get Elise to fall for me enough to agree to a marriage that would look real to everyone else.
“She’s warming up to me, I think.”
Dalton raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Warming up? That’s not exactly the level of progress I was hoping to hear. Especially not after that video I saw of the two of you together.” He let out a low whistle.
The video in question, the video everyone was still talking about, was the TikTok of Elise dancing on me.
She’d needed a male partner for the routine and I happily volunteered.
In the clip, I’m in a chair, her moving to the music in perfect rhythm, brushing close, leaning in, hands sliding down my body.
Sensual? Yes. But choreographed. Intentional.
Not whatever fantasy the gossip mill was probably spinning out of it.
Dalton grinned. “That thing’s everywhere. You’re telling me you’re not worried?”
I set my glass down with a soft thud, meeting his gaze without blinking. “No.”
He tilted his head. “No?”
“One,” I said, voice even, “it was after work. She’s free to dance however the hell she wants when she’s not on my clock.
Two,” I let my tone drop a fraction lower, the kind that made grown executives rethink their careers.
“nobody in the company is stupid enough to bring it up to me. They know better.”
Dalton chuckled under his breath. “Scaring your own people into silence. That’s one way to do it.”
“And three,” I continued, ignoring the jab, “Elise is the most professional employee I’ve got. She’s earned the right to have a personal life without it being picked apart by people who wouldn’t last a day in her shoes. Anyone who questions that answers to me. And I don’t give second warnings.”
Dalton raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. You made your point.”
“Good,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Then we won’t bring it up again.” I took another sip of my brandy. “As for the progress I’m making... She’s a professional. Keeps her distance. I knew it wouldn’t be easy.”
And that was putting it lightly. I’d spent weeks testing boundaries; lunches that blurred into late-night check-ins, compliments that sounded too personal to be managerial.
Every move had to be calculated, controlled.
Not too forward, not too distant. I couldn’t scare her off, but I couldn’t let her see through me either.
This wasn’t attraction, it was strategy.
Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
“And yet,” Dalton said, setting his glass down, “you’re still going through with it.”
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed on the bar. The sudden vibration made me tense, my fingers twitching slightly before I reached for it, hoping it wasn’t something urgent.
Elise:
Did you know there’s a speakeasy hidden behind a bookstore in Louisiana?
A second text followed before I could process the first.
Elise:
I just found it online. We HAVE to stop by. Can we stop by?
I stared at my screen for a moment, the words dancing in front of me.
The excitement in her message was palpable, her enthusiasm almost tangible through the screen.
My lips twitched at the corners before I caught myself.
It was just a text about a place she wanted to visit, but the way she worded it made something in my chest tighten, like a string being pulled too tightly.
Elise:
I promise I won’t let it interfere with work! But if you refuse to come, I will find a way to guilt-trip you. Just letting you know now.
I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head with a slight smile. I couldn’t help it. She had a way of making me soften, even in moments like these. I typed back quickly.
Nathan:
I’m not easily guilt-tripped.
Her response came almost immediately.
Elise:
That’s what you think.
I couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped me at her text. It was silly, the way she kept pushing, playful, but relentless. There was something disarming about her, something that made my defenses feel weaker than I’d like to admit.
Dalton let out a low whistle. “Is that a smile I see?”
I quickly schooled my expression into something neutral, but it was too late. The grin that had crept onto my face was already gone, leaving behind the unmistakable trace of amusement that I couldn’t quite suppress.
“No,” I said flatly, locking my phone and setting it down on the bar beside me, trying to ignore the tug at my chest.
“Oh, it definitely was.” Dalton leaned in, grinning like he just hit the jackpot. He took a slow sip of his drink, eyes never leaving me. “Come on, man, don’t tell me you’re getting soft over a text.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I muttered, taking a deeper drink of my brandy to steady my nerves.
Dalton eyed me for a beat, then leaned closer, dropping his voice to a murmur. “Can I ask you something without you throwing your drink in my face?”
I gave him a sidelong glance. “Doubtful.”
He paused. “Why keep lying to her? You’re already halfway gone over this girl, and yet she still doesn’t know the truth. You really think you can build something real on a foundation of bullshit?”
“I’m not trying to build anything real,” I said sharply, more to convince myself than him.
Dalton snorted. “Right. That's why you’re checking your phone every five seconds like some poor bastard who caught feelings?”
I didn’t answer.
He leaned back. “It just seems backwards, that’s all.
You want her to fall for you so you can secure the inheritance.
Okay. Fine. Classic seduction play. But then what?
What exactly is the plan here, Edge? Charm her until she’s too smitten to question it?
Wait until she’s in love before you spring the M-word on her? ”
I didn’t answer. Not right away. Because the plan had never been about love.
Not hers. Not mine.
But the longer I spent around her, the harder it was to remember that.
“Convince her to date me,” I said at last. “Let her think it’s real. Let it become real enough for her, so that when I ask her to marry me, she’ll say yes.”
Dalton raised a brow. “And after that?”
“I give her whatever she wants,” I said. “A fat check. Endless supply of that coffee she likes. A house in Calabasas. Whatever helps me get out of this with no mess.”
Dalton stared at me. “You really think she’s that easy to buy off?”
“No,” I muttered. “I don’t.”
And that was the problem. Elise wasn’t someone you could buy.
She wasn’t dazzled by power or status or things.
She did her job because she was damn good at it, not because she wanted a seat at the table.
She’d never once looked at me like a meal ticket.
If anything, she looked at me like I was someone to survive.
And now I was supposed to trick her into falling in love?
Dalton watched me for another long second, then set his glass with a quiet clink. “So why not just tell her?”
I exhaled slowly, jaw tightening. “Because she’d walk away.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” I said flatly. “If I tell her the truth and she walks away, I lose everything.”
Dalton didn’t argue. Because he knew I was right.
I continued, quieter this time. “She’d never trust me again. And even if I wanted this to be something real,” I paused. “It would never be real to her. Not after that.”
There it was.
The part I hadn’t said out loud until now. The part that made falling for Elise the biggest mistake of all.
Because the plan was never supposed to involve me falling. Just her. Just enough to get what I needed to fulfill my father’s last, twisted condition, and move on with everything intact.
But Elise wasn’t just some placeholder bride.
She was becoming the only thing I looked forward to.
The only person who saw through me without trying to tear me down.
The only one who didn’t want anything from me.
And every time I caught myself softening toward her, I could feel the panic rise. Because if she found out why I was really doing this… she’d leave. And I’d lose more than just the company. I’d lose the one person I never meant to care about.
So yeah, maybe I was falling.
And maybe that was the real problem.