"Not arguing with you about that. You wouldn’t know how to treat a woman if your life depended on it."

"Oh, and you do? You call Scarlett a witch every other word," I mutter. "But putting her looks aside—is there anything else I should know about this woman?"

"Nothing major. Want me to keep digging?"

"No. Doesn’t seem worth it. You’re not going to find anything that really matters."

"In that case, I’ll get going."

"Wait—one more thing," I stop him as he heads for the door. "Why did you shut me up when I mentioned her not having kids with me?"

"Are you seriously asking that? Are you really that much of an idiot?"

"Kalet! I’m your boss. You’d better show some respect."

"And I do respect you—but that doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot sometimes. That woman is sterile!" he snaps, rolling his eyes like it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

"How do you know that?"

“It was all over the media. People had been wondering for a while when they’d have their first heir. But as the months went by and she didn’t get pregnant, they started saying she was infertile.

“Then Lefebvre stopped appearing with her in public. And well, after what you told us about his mistress being pregnant, it’s obvious—she can’t have children.”

I stay silent at this revelation, my mind flashing back to the expression on that woman’s face that day. She looked devastated, shattered, like her whole world was on the verge of collapse and she was desperately clinging to whatever she could to survive.

For the first time, I feel a flicker of sympathy for her. It must’ve been hell, going through that alone.

But I shake my head almost immediately, pushing the feeling away. I can’t afford to blur the lines between business and personal matters—and whatever happens with her, it’ll only be professional. That’s all.

If I accept the deal, that is.

Two days later

Pacing around my office, I glance at my watch and grunt in frustration. Time’s running out before my supposed meeting with Lefebvre’s wife—and if nothing goes as planned, I’ll be forced to meet with her.

“Any news? Did Scarlett’s brother figure out a way to make a fragrance with those ingredients?” I ask Kalet as soon as the door closes behind him.

“Unfortunately, no,” he mutters, slowly shaking his head. “He tried several times over the past few days, but nothing good came of it. All of them were too generic.”

“Damn it!” I growl, clenching my fist. “I didn’t want to rely on that woman.”

I return to my desk and pick up the phone to call my assistant.

“I need you to draft a contract,” I tell Kalet, listing out every detail the document should include.

“Is something wrong, boss?” Scarlett asks, waiting patiently for me to finish speaking with Kalet. “Wouldn’t it be better to have an actual lawyer draft it instead of your puppy?”

“Scarlett!” I snap, raising my hand to warn my driver this isn’t the time to argue. “Do as I said, Kalet.”

“You’ll pay for this, hellspawn,” Kalet hisses at her as he passes, shooting her a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

“I need you to buy the cheapest phone you can find. Something discreet. And make sure the registration isn’t tied to us in any way.”

“Alright. I’ll get someone—”

“No. I need you to take care of it. And I need it within the hour.”

“That soon? Who’s it for?”

“I’ll explain later. Just get it done.”

She nods and hurries out, leaving me with the sinking feeling that going through with this marriage is pure madness.

An hour later, Kalet and I are headed to the location Lefebvre’s wife gave me. From a distance, I see a figure wrapped in a thin coat, hugging herself tightly as the wind tears through the open space.

“You sure about this?” Kalet asks from the driver’s seat, watching me in the rearview mirror. “Once you two sign those documents, there’s no turning back. And more importantly—you’ll have to keep your word and help that woman.”

“Why do you even care so much?” I snap.

“Because she reminds me of my sister. She did everything she could to escape her abusive husband—everything, including faking her own death. She didn’t care what pain it would cause her family.”

“Fine. I promise I’ll help her. I’ll keep my word. Happy now?” I mutter irritably, though I make sure not to mention how much I plan to gain from this arrangement.

“In that case, get ready to become the fake lover of Lefebvre’s wife.”

As we approach, the woman looks like she’s about to leave. But the moment I roll down the window and she sees me, her eyes light up, making her look far younger than she probably is.

“Get in,” I say coldly.