I glance down at the address on my phone, then up at the glass-and-steel giant in front of me. The building feels more like a fortress than an office.
I tug at the sleeve of my baby-pink cardigan, suddenly hyper-aware of my white camisole and ripped jeans. Everyone else around me looks like they’re heading to a courtroom—or a coronation.
Perfect. I look like I got lost on my way to a thrift shop.
Whatever. I’m not here to impress anyone. I’m not applying for a job.
I walk in with my chin slightly raised, trying to quiet the nerves dancing in my stomach.
At the front desk, the security guards hand me a visitor pass after making me fill out a form. People in pressed suits turn their heads as I pass. Curious eyes. Judging.
It’s fine. Let them stare.
Get in. Talk business. Get out. That’s it.
In the elevator, I catch my reflection in the mirror—messy bun, soft makeup, and that stupid anxious flutter in my chest.
Why am I even nervous? I don’t know this man. He’s just Scott’s older brother. Not royalty.
Still, something about this whole place makes me feel like I’ve already made a mistake.
When I step out on the 22nd floor, the woman at the desk looks up—blonde, perfect, expression sharp as glass.
“Um, excuse me, I’m here to—”
“We don’t do interviews today,” she says without even blinking.
I blink, then laugh softly. “No, I’m here to see Mr. Kingston.”
That makes her pause. Her eyes scan me from head to toe, like she’s trying to figure out if someone lost a dare.
There it is. The ‘You don’t belong here’ look. Classic.
“I’m Chloe Sweets,” I add, trying not to fidget. “He’s, uh… expecting me?”
After confirming with someone on the phone, she tells me to wait. I sit stiffly on a velvet couch, my gaze drifting to the skyline outside.
Why does this feel like a trap I didn’t sign up for?
Then a woman appears—glasses, soft voice, nervous smile.
“Ms. Sweets?”
“Yes.” I stand quickly.
“I’m Nina, Mr. Kingston’s assistant. If you’ll follow me…He’s just finishing up a meeting. He’ll see you shortly.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” I offer gently. “If he’s too busy, I can always come back another time.”
Nina shakes her head, though her smile wavers. “No, please wait. He won’t be long.”
Nina looks… anxious. She’d probably get in trouble if I left.
“Okay, I’ll wait.”
I step inside the room and immediately feel out of place.
Everything is polished.
Expensive. Intimidating.
Before I can think of anything else, the door opens. Liam Kingston walks in, not sparing me a glance, heading straight for his desk like I’m not even there.
“Um… Mr. Kingston, Ms. Sweets is here,” Nina announces.
“Yeah, I know.” His voice is sharp, clipped. “Hold my calls. Tell the board I’ll be back soon.”
Nina nods and practically flees, leaving me alone in the lion’s den. My breath catches in my throat.
He’s tall and broad-shouldered in a tailored black suit, a man who could’ve been carved from stone.
He’s sharp—cut-glass jawline, storm-grey eyes, lips set in a firm line. The kind of man you don’t look at too long unless you want to feel exposed.
“Miss Sweets,” he says, voice deep, clipped, and cool.
His gaze flicks over me. Not in a flirtatious way—but assessing. Calculating.
“You run the bakery?”
“Yes. Well, ran.” My voice cracks, and I hate myself for it.
He walks toward the desk and gestures for me to sit, not bothering with small talk.
“Scott briefed me. I know what happened. And I know you’re not the one responsible.”
I blink. “Then why am I here?”
“Because I don’t trust people handling things I don’t understand,” he says. “And you’re the only one who actually seems to know how the business worked.”
I stare at him. “So, you’re not helping for Melanie?”
“No,” he says flatly. “I’m helping for Scott. And now, by extension… you.”
I’m not sure how I feel about that. Grateful? Offended? Relieved?
He opens a folder and slides it across the table toward me. “This is the restoration plan. I’ve already contacted contractors, equipment suppliers, and legal. If you sign off on the layout, we can start rebuilding the cakeshop by next week.”
I stare at the documents, blinking.
He arches a brow. “What?”
“I just… I wasn’t expecting all this. It’s a lot.”
He doesn’t smile. “That’s how you fix things. You do a lot.”
My eyes narrow slightly. “Right. Just like that. Burn down your life and someone rich swoops in to fix it.” I don’t mean to say it out loud, and I immediately open my mouth to apologise.
Something flickers in his eyes—something darker, colder.
“I don’t fix people’s lives, Miss Sweets. Just businesses.”
Silence follows, thick with tension, heavy with all the things neither of us is saying. I look down at the plans. My stomach twists. My fingers itch with unease.
He exhales, frustrated. “Let’s make this quick and simple,” he mutters, voice clipped, his patience thinning.
I try to block out the way his presence disrupts me. The clean lines of his tailored suit, the shadows along his cheekbones, the effortless power that clings to him like cologne—it’s distracting. Too much.
“Miss Sweets?” Liam prompts, cocking his head slightly, hands leaving the table like he’s done waiting.
“Y-yeah. Sorry!” I stammer, my mind snapping back to the present. “Your brother said—”
“If you accept these terms, I expect your cooperation regarding the Scott and Melanie situation.”
I blink, confused. “I… don’t understand…”
“Your sister and my brother have been dating for a few months, and now he wants to marry her. I doubt it’s because of love.”
My thoughts are spinning. There’s a lot in my mind.
“I need you to convince Melanie to walk away from my brother. Don’t worry about the costs—hospital, delivery, or anything else. We’ll take care of all of it.”
He walks around the desk slowly, his gaze never leaving mine, stopping just in front of me like a storm about to break.
“You can even mention the number right now,” he interrupts, pulling out a checkbook. “Check or online transfer?” His voice is cold, his eyes unyielding.
I flinch back slightly. My heart pounds in my chest.
“Hold on…!” I put the document back on the table and stand up. “H-have you talked to your brother? I mean, really talked? I’m here for—”
“Your shop. I know,” Liam interrupts again. “Ms. Sweets, I really need to fix everything fast. And I really need your help to make your sister come to her senses.”
Something in me cracks.
I step forward, my voice rising. “I’ll tell you what, Mr. Kingston.”
My breath shakes, but my words don’t.
“Don’t worry about my shop. I built it once—I’ll build it again.”
The pull I once felt toward him dissolves into smoke, smothered by fury.
I fold my arms, each second fueling the fire inside me. “So I’d hate to waste more of your precious, billionaire time. Clearly, it’s too valuable for actual decency.”
I turn sharply on my heel, head high.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Kingston,” I toss over my shoulder, the sarcasm slicing clean through the air.
I don’t stop until I’m out of the building. My pulse throbs in my ears, my hands still clenched. The moment I hit the sidewalk, I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath for hours.
