Emma Carter strode into the sleek boardroom of Blackwood Enterprises like she owned the place. Which, for the record, she did not.
But today, for the next thirty minutes, she was going to act like she did.
Dressed in a tailored black blazer, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor, she adjusted her glasses and leveled her sharpest no-nonsense stare at the room full of executives. A handful of them swallowed nervously. Good. That meant they knew who she was—Emma Carter, one of the best corporate lawyers in the city.
The man at the head of the table, however, looked utterly unimpressed.
Nicholas Blackwood.
Billionaire. CEO. Professional thorn in her side.
The man was maddeningly good-looking in the worst way possible—tall, broad-shouldered, with an effortless kind of arrogance that probably made most women melt into a puddle of Yes, Mr. Blackwood. But Emma? She wasn't most women.
She had been summoned here to negotiate a deal on behalf of her client, a small tech startup that Blackwood Enterprises was aggressively trying to acquire. The problem? Nicholas Blackwood never took no for an answer.
Today, she was going to be the first.
"Miss Carter." Nicholas' voice was as smooth as silk and just as dangerous. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"
Emma didn't miss the amused glint in his unreasonably blue eyes. He thought this was a game? Big mistake.
"I'm here to reject your acquisition offer," she said, dropping a thick folder onto the table with a thud. "And, if necessary, burn it to the ground with legal action."
The room went silent.
One of the executives coughed awkwardly. Another adjusted his tie like he wished he were anywhere else.
Nicholas, on the other hand, just smirked.
"Burn it to the ground, huh?" He tilted his head. "How very… dramatic."
Emma folded her arms. "I like to make things clear."
Nicholas exhaled, glancing at the contract inside the folder, before meeting her gaze again. "I don't think you understand, Miss Carter. Your client's company is already drowning. My offer is a lifeline. Not a takeover."
Emma arched a brow. "Right. A lifeline where you end up with 90% control while my client gets to smile politely as you gut their innovation and claim it as your own?" She scoffed. "Sounds more like a hostile lifeline to me."
A few executives visibly shifted in their seats.
Nicholas drummed his fingers on the table. "Hostile?" he repeated, his smirk widening. "Now, that's a bit harsh, don't you think?"
Emma mirrored his smirk. "No, I think 'harsh' is when a billionaire throws money at people and expects them to say 'thank you' while he walks away with everything."
For the first time since she had entered the room, Nicholas Blackwood's smirk faltered. Just slightly. And that? That was the highlight of Emma's day.
The air in the boardroom had shifted. The executives were holding their breath. Someone might have been taking notes.
Emma grabbed the contract, flipped to the page outlining Nicholas' ridiculous acquisition terms, and ripped it clean in half.
Gasps. Actual gasps.
Nicholas blinked, clearly not used to people destroying his legally binding documents in his own office.
"There," she said, brushing nonexistent dust off her blazer. "Consider this rejection official."
Nicholas Blackwood, the man who had probably never been told 'no' in his entire privileged life, stared at her. For one long, intense moment, she swore she saw something dangerous flicker in his expression—something amused, intrigued, and… entertained? Emma didn't have time for games.
She turned on her heel, grabbed her purse, and strode toward the door. "Good day, gentlemen." And just as she reached the exit, she heard his voice.
Low. Smooth. Laced with pure, dark amusement.
"Oh, Miss Carter," Nicholas drawled. "We are far from finished." Emma didn't bother turning around. She simply smiled and walked out, leaving absolute chaos in her wake.
Nicholas Blackwood had just met his match.
And he had no idea what he was in for.