The Enemy's Proposal

The soapy water stung Ember's hands as she scrubbed the marble floor of the dining room. Her fingers were red, her knees sore, but she didn't stop. She knew if she did, Charlotte would come in yelling again.

From upstairs, laughter echoed down. Reese. Her stepsister was getting her regular massage and facial while Ember cleaned up after breakfast like a maid.

"Ember!" Charlotte's sharp voice cut through the silence. "You missed a spot. Are you even useful for anything?"

Ember didn't answer. She never did. Talking back only made things worse.

She looked at the small silver locket hanging around her neck...the only thing left from her mother. Her thumb brushed over it gently, her heart aching.

Mom... if you're watching me, please give me a way out.

But her mother never answered. And no one else ever cared.

Upstairs, Charlotte sat on the bed with Reese, her daughter, going through papers.

"Greywood Corporation?" Reese raised an eyebrow. "A one-night exclusive contract... what is this?"

Charlotte read the letter aloud.

"The Hale heiress is requested for a private evening. No cameras. No publicity. A sealed deal signed by the youngest CEO of Greywood."

Reese laughed. "Who does he think he is? He didn't even put his name. Probably some rich, bald freak with a big belly, rumours even say that he is some kind of paralyzed,."

Charlotte's lips curled into a cold smile. "Well, we need this partnership, darling. It could open every door we've been trying to get into."

Reese blinked. "Wait. You're not saying I should actually go....?"

"No," Charlotte said, eyes gleaming. "We'll send Ember instead."

Reese's jaw dropped. "What?"

Charlotte shrugged like it was the most natural thing in the world. "She has the same body as you. We'll clean her up, put some makeup on, and no one will know the difference. If this deal helps us rise, let's use that orphan girl for some good reason."

Later that evening, Ember stood frozen in front of the mirror.

She didn't recognize the girl staring back.

Her usually messy hair was curled and shiny. Her face, always pale and tired, was glowing with layers of makeup. The red dress hugged her body like a second skin. She felt naked.

"I-I can't go like this," she whispered. "What is this place? Where am I going?"

Charlotte grabbed her arm. "Don't act stupid. You're going to a hotel. Do your job. That's all."

"I don't understand..."

Slap.

Ember's cheek burned.

"Understand this," Charlotte hissed. "If you say one word, if you ruin this deal, I'll throw you out onto the street. You'll be nothing. Less than nothing."

Reese stood by the door, arms crossed, grinning. "Try not to cry too much. Rich men hate when girls cry."

Ember was shoved into the backseat of a black car. The driver didn't speak. The city lights blurred past the windows as she clutched her hands together tightly in her lap.

The hotel was too quiet,The suite was massive, with golden lights and soft music playing somewhere in the background.

She stepped inside slowly. Her heels clicked on the floor, echoing like gunshots. Her chest was tight. She didn't know what she was doing here, or who was waiting.

Then the music stopped.

Footsteps.

Ember froze.

A man stepped from the shadows near the window. Tall. Broad shoulders. Black suit. His presence sucked the air out of the room.

His eyes locked onto her.

Sharp. Cold. Too intense.

She stopped breathing.

"You're not Reese Hale," he said calmly.

Her lips trembled. "I... I never said I was..."

He started walking toward her.

Slow. Silent. Like a predator who already knew he'd won.

"I told them no games," he murmured, voice low and dangerous. "And they sent me a lamb."

Ember instinctively took a step back, her voice barely a whisper. "They made me come. I didn't want-"

He stopped just inches from her, tilting his head slightly.

"Didn't want to?" His eyes flicked down, then back up. "Then why are you here in that dress, looking like a wrapped gift?"

Her face burned. "Please... I don't even know who you are."

He leaned in, his voice like ice.

"I'm Reagan Cross."

She froze.

The name hit her like a slap.

Reagan Cross. The youngest CEO of Greywood. The man no one had seen. No media. No public events. A name whispered in boardrooms and feared in business circles.

Rumors said he once made a billionaire vanish overnight. Another said he bought a company just to burn it down for betrayal.

And now... he stood in front of her.

A ghost with eyes that saw too much.

He turned his back to her, walking slowly toward the wide glass window overlooking the city. The lights from below flickered on his sharp profile.

He didn't look at her when he spoke again.

"You know why I asked for the Hale heiress?" His voice was quiet now. Too quiet. "Because her mother ruined something that belonged to me. I wanted to see if the daughter was just as... poisonous."

Ember's knees went weak. Her lips parted, confused.

He turned back around slowly. "But instead... they sent you."

He stepped closer again, one hand in his pocket, the other reaching up to loosen his tie.

"Take off the dress," he said.

Her heart raced. "Please, don't... I didn't choose this..."

"Neither did I," he cut in coldly. "But we both walked in here tonight, didn't we?"

She shook her head, chest tightening. "You don't understand...."

"Oh, I do," he whispered, stepping even closer. "I understand that you're desperate. You think you're trapped. But let me ask you this..."

His voice dropped even lower.

"If you didn't want to be touched... why didn't you run the second you walked in?"

She had no answer.

Because some part of her had frozen. Some part of her was still standing there...drawn to his shadow more than his words.

He lifted her chin with one finger. Gentle. Almost soft.

"You're not Reese. But now that you're here, little flame..."

His lips curved into something dark, almost unreadable.

"...you'll burn just the same."

And then he said something that chilled her more than the cold marble floor beneath her feet:

"You weren't sent here for pleasure. You were sent here as a message."