Elena looked at the ring, then up at him. The logic was cold, efficient, and utterly ruthless—exactly like the man standing before her. "A pretext," she whispered, testing the weight of the word. "Purely," Julian lied.
The rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Julian’s penthouse, but inside, the silence was more suffocating than the storm. Across the mahogany desk sat Elena, her expression a mask of professional indifference. 3 : A Proposal as a Pretext
"A small price for a billion-dollar empire," Julian said, offering his hand to help her up. Elena looked at the ring, then up at him
Elena reached out, her fingers hovering over the stone. "And if I say yes? We have to make it look real. The galas, the press, the shared home." "Purely," Julian lied
He didn't mention that he’d bought the ring six months ago. He didn't mention that the merger was the only way he could think of to keep her in the same room as him.
Julian leaned back, the amber liquid in his glass catching the dim light. He wasn't looking at the merger papers. He was looking at the way Elena’s jaw tightened when she was bluffing.