Emma Carter was in the middle of celebrating her small but satisfying victory over Nicholas Blackwood—by which she meant drinking an overpriced latte and basking in the memory of his stunned face—when her phone vibrated.
A text from her assistant, Mia.
Mia: Uh… we have a situation.
Emma frowned. Before she could reply, another message popped up.
Mia: Actually, it's more like a Nicholas Blackwood-sized situation.
Emma's mood soured immediately. What did that smug billionaire do now?
She barely had time to process the warning before a shadow loomed over her.
"Good afternoon, Miss Carter."
Emma inhaled sharply. Speak of the devil.
Nicholas Blackwood stood in front of her tiny café table, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Dressed in an infuriatingly expensive suit, exuding arrogance, and holding a coffee he definitely didn't need someone else to make for him (because billionaires probably had personal baristas, right?), he looked completely out of place.
Emma, on the other hand, looked… well, normal. Unlike him, she wasn't bathed in the soft glow of self-satisfied billionaire nonsense. She was in jeans and a blouse, hair slightly messy from the wind, and very much not in the mood for his games.
She sighed. "Is there a reason you're interrupting my coffee break, or do you just enjoy ruining people's afternoons?"
Nicholas smirked. "Oh, I do enjoy a good afternoon ruination, but today, I come bearing news."
Emma narrowed her eyes. "If you tell me you bought this café just to inconvenience me, I swear—"
Nicholas chuckled. "Tempting. But no." He pulled out a chair and sat across from her uninvited, radiating smug billionaire energy. "I just wanted to inform you that your little contract stunt this morning? Cute. Very dramatic. But unfortunately, completely useless."
Emma took a sip of her latte and gave him her most bored look. "Oh, do enlighten me."
Nicholas leaned forward, his voice low and confident. "You ripped up a copy, Miss Carter. Not the original."
Her stomach dropped.
Emma knew better. Of course Blackwood would have backups. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the way he was looking at her.
Like he had already won.
"I was going to give you and your client time to reconsider," he continued. "But since you're so eager to reject my very generous offer, I've decided to play a little game instead."
Emma's fingers tightened around her coffee cup. "A game?"
Nicholas nodded, enjoying this far too much. "Yes. It's called leverage."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Oh, wow. That sounds super original. You came up with that all on your own?"
Nicholas smirked. "See, after you so rudely shredded my contract, I did a little digging. And I found something… interesting."
He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out another folder.
Emma's stomach twisted.
Because when Nicholas Blackwood found something "interesting," it usually meant trouble.
He slid the folder across the table. "Go ahead. Take a look."
Emma hesitated. Then, reluctantly, she flipped it open. And immediately froze.
Inside were documents about her client's company. Contracts. Loan agreements. Financial statements.
And at the very top—highlighted, underlined, and damning—was a single clause in their financing agreement.
A loophole. One she hadn't noticed before.
One that gave Nicholas Blackwood the legal right to call in her client's debt.
Her blood ran cold.
"You… bastard," she breathed.
Nicholas' smirk widened. "I prefer strategist, actually."
Emma shut the folder with a snap. "So let me guess. You're going to force my client to sell to you by threatening to bankrupt them?"
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I would never say something so crass. But… yes."
Emma clenched her jaw.
He had her trapped.
The worst part? She knew it. And he knew she knew it.
Emma inhaled deeply, schooling her expression into icy neutrality. "Fine," she said, tilting her head. "I'll fight you in court."
Nicholas chuckled. "You could. But we both know that by the time the case is resolved, your client's company will be drowning in legal fees, investors will panic, and they'll lose everything anyway." He leaned forward, his blue eyes gleaming with something dark and undeniably amused. "Or… you could negotiate with me."
Emma's fingers twitched. She wanted so badly to throw her coffee at him.
Instead, she leaned forward, mirroring his stance. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Nicholas smirked. "Very much so."
Emma exhaled sharply, hating every second of this.
She had two options:
1. Fight him and risk her client's company being crushed under legal warfare.
2. Negotiate.
And that meant playing by Nicholas Blackwood's rules.
God help her.
She set her coffee down, fixed him with a cold stare, and said, "Fine. Let's negotiate."
Nicholas smiled.
Game on.