“Excuse me?” I said in disbelief. I must have misheard him.

“You didn't hear wrong, Belle,” he said, like he'd heard my thoughts. “I'm offering you a way out. A simple one really.”

He took a step forward.

“My mother is… well demanding I marry,” he continued. “And even though we don't really have a good past, you're not like the women she's thrusting on me.”

I scoffed. “You mean I'm not rich and snobby.”

“Exactly that,” he replied. The arrogant prick.

“Now, the marriage will only last a year. No contact except, well, in the public,” he said, staring at me with those green eyes I've rubbed myself to countless of times.

Fuck. Pull yourself together, Belle.

“You'd move into my place and in the public, we'll be the couple of the year.”

A sarcastic smile spread across his face.

“Isn't that wonderful?”

I didn't answer him. I just stood there looking at him and waiting for the second shoe to drop. He must think I'm desperate if he thinks I’d accept his ludicrous offer.

I told him so.

“You must have hit your head somewhere if you really think I'm going to accept your offer.”

A laugh escaped his lips, and despite my efforts, it made butterflies flutter in my tummy.

“Belle, darling,” he said, that deep rasp doing something to me. “You're in no position to be rejecting my offer.”

“And you're in no position to think you have the upper hand in this,” I countered. “Just as you said, you need this just as much as I do, so give me another reason why I should agree to a sham marriage or forget about it.”

I was out of breath after saying all that in a stretch but that wasn't the point.

The point was that I wasn't buying his cock and bull story.

Was I leaning into the idea of being his wife? Maybe.

But what we had ended years ago and reigniting it by being ”married” was going to make things much worse.

Cassian looked at me then. Not like a man who'd been rejected years ago by a woman he’d given his heart, but like a man plotting his next move already.

"Because it's not just about me anymore," he said finally. "Your company is bleeding and your suppliers are whispering behind your back. If you don't make this deal, you'll drown."

I crossed my arms, not because I was chilly, but because I needed something to hold onto and my arms seemed like a good option right now.

"And you think being your wife will fix that?” I asked.

"Being my wife," he continued, taking a step closer to me, "will bring you power, wealth, and security, overnight."

"You're trying to make it sound like some sort of mob proposal," I said, my brows raised in concern.

He smiled wryly. "You're the one who ventured into the lion's den, darling."

"Don't call me that," I gritted through my teeth.

He raised an eyebrow. "What? 'Darling'? I figured 'cherry' would be too nostalgic."

I hated how easily my stomach clenched at the term. I hated more that he knew the effect the name had on me.

"I don't need rescuing, Cassian," I said. “I’ve not needed it in a while thank you.‘

"I’m not trying to rescue you," he replied, his voice levelled and sure. "But maybe you do need something different. A fighting chance. Perhaps."

I hesitated. Just for a moment. And he saw it.

"That's what this is," he said softly. "A deal. You get to keep your business in the clear and I get to keep my legacy unblemished. We both benefit from the agreement. And then, at the end of the year, we go our separate ways."

"Like it never happened?" I whispered, my mind slowly coming to a decision. I can’t believe I was entertaining this bullshit.

He didn't respond. Not right away at least.

"Exactly like that," he finally said.

I laughed, but there was no amusement in it. "You think you can fake marriage without any… complications?"

His jaw tightened. "We won't touch or even share a bed and you'll have your space. I'll also have mine."

"You're insane," I replied, still trying to hold on to any shred of dignity I had in me.

"Perhaps. But I'm also right," he replied, an annoying smirk dancing on his annoying, kissable lips.

"And what if people dig deeper?” I asked, actually worried. “Ask questions? What if they find out we're putting on a show?"

"Then we give them a good one," he said simply.

My jaw dropped and then it shut closed. And then it dropped again.

"What would we even tell people? That you just happened to run into your high school heartbreak and thought you'd get married for old time's sake?"

"I'll handle the story," he said. "I've already had my PR people develop three versions."

"You already—" I blinked. "Wait, you planned this out already?"

Cassian nodded slightly. "I prepared for the eventuality that it might happen. There's a difference," he said casually.

The jerk.

"God, you're still such a control freak," I muttered in disbelief.

"And you're still impossible to read," he replied.

"Good."

We stared at each other. The silence between us was thick and heavy until I was the one who had to break eye contact.

"You want to know what I think?" I asked.

"Do I?"

"I think you're doing this not just because of your IPO or your mother or your chair at the company."

"Oh?" he said, entertained.

"You're doing this because you want to prove you can touch the past without getting burned."

The amusement in his eyes died.

"You want to show me I don't matter anymore," I continued. "That you've moved on. That whatever we had didn't scar you."

"Maybe," he said, stepping close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body on mine. "But the question is—can you do the same?"

I swallowed hard.

He gazed at me, his eyes locked on mine, and when I said nothing, he stepped back.

"I'll email the paperwork," he said. "You have three days to make your decision."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll find someone else," he said as if he were just discussing the weather.

A beat passed. Then I nodded once.

"Good. Perhaps you should," I replied. I don’t think I was going to go through with this marriage sham.

I turned toward the door.

"Belle," he said, his voice low and I stopped, my fingers tightening on the doorknob.

"When you read the contract… don't read it with your heart. Read it with your survival instincts."

I didn't look back.

If I did, he would've seen that my heart was already hurting again.

And I couldn't afford that.

Not now.

Not ever.