"To the pretext," he replied, already wondering how he would convince her to stay when the twenty-four months were up.
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. 3 : A Proposal as a Pretext
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. "To the pretext," he replied, already wondering how
Julian stood, walking slowly around the desk until he was inches from her. He didn't offer a handshake. Instead, he reached into his pocket and placed a velvet box on top of the legal documents. He flicked it open. A four-carat emerald shimmered under the chandelier. Elena didn't gasp. She went still. "What is this?" "A proposal," Julian replied. "This is a business meeting, Julian. Don't be absurd." "A pretext," she whispered, testing the weight of the word
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.