Michael grabbed the folder reluctantly, his fingers brushing over the cover before flipping it open.
He skimmed through the pages, his eyes narrowing as he took in the details. His brow furrowed deeper with every line he read, the tension clear in the tight knot forming on his forehead.
When he reached the proposal, his eyes paused, scanning the offer again to make sure he hadn't misread it. "Five million dollars upfront in exchange for fifty percent of the company's shares."
It was a steep ask, I knew that. But . . . "I'm a businesswoman, and I intended to get back what I invested. This isn't charity." It was strategy.
Michael was still deep in thought, and hadn't looked up yet, but the weight of my offer was sinking in.
I knew he knew just how much this meant — this deal could either save him or push him deeper into a corner.
I watched him quietly as he processed the offer, his fingers now gripping the edge of the folder a little tighter. His brow was still furrowed, and I could see the gears turning in his mind as he weighed the pros and cons.
"Why are you so sure that this project would succeed?" he asked.
My eyebrow rose. "You're not confident in your own work?"
"I am," he snapped.
I beamed. "Then it will succeed."
He looked at me with an incredulous face like I was crazy.
I leaned back slightly, giving him space to think. "I'll let you mull it over," I said, breaking the short silence. "But don't take too long. I'm not a very patient woman."
He glanced up at me, his expression still unreadable. I smiled faintly, keeping my composure.
"I expect to hear your decision soon," I added. "Because with or without you, I plan to move forward. But I'd prefer if we did this together."
The ball was in his court now, but I wasn't going to wait forever.
=== ???? ===
Bijoux Fashion and Jewelry.
Of course. It had to be one of the Fays' ventures. What used to be just a jewelry store had grown into a high-end fashion brand, thanks to none other than Leanna Fay — Cole's mother. That woman had the Midas touch. She could turn anything into gold, or so I'd heard.
"Alright, Mom," I replied, trying not to grit my teeth. "I'll stop wasting my time then. But at least send me some pictures of the dress and jewelry?"
"How could I do that?" Sophia scolded, her tone condescending. "Didn't I tell you it's supposed to be a surprise?"
I rolled my eyes.
Yeah, right.
It wasn't a surprise because they wanted it to be special — it was because the dress wasn't even meant for me. It was for
her
— for Sophie.
"How about this?" she continued, her voice suddenly too sweet. "Why don't you join me for lunch today? I'm at Greeneries. Let's talk. It's been too long since we've had a proper chat."
I cringed internally, already imagining the forced conversation, the passive-aggressive comments about my behavior. "Aren't you busy?" I asked, hoping for an out.
Please be busy. Please have a full schedule.
"Not right now. So come here, okay? I'll be expecting you."
Before I could even form another excuse, the line went dead.
I let out a frustrated sigh, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Sophia was getting suspicious — thanks to Sophie, no doubt. My strange behavior over the past few days wasn't going unnoticed, and avoiding her now would only make things worse. I had no choice but to show up.
The problem was . . . Greeneries was yet another one of the Fay family's many businesses.
Great
, I thought bitterly. Just what I needed — a front-row seat to more Fay family drama.