Page 87 of Love so Hot

I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose, feeling the onset of a headache—Jason's favorite gift to me. I decide that it's better to just fend him off. Say what he wants to hear rather than try and convince him otherwise. I've played Jason's games before and it kept me on the phone with him for hours, and I just don't have that sort of patience today. Not with Willow downstairs, waiting for me.

"Look, Jay," I start, trying to steady my voice, "she’s just part of the strategy. Alright? It’s not like this is permanent."

There's a beat of silence, and I can almost see Jason on the other end, eyebrows raised skeptically. Then his voice cuts through, sharp as a snapped cable. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Lawrence. This could backfire spectacularly."

"Can't be worse than going public with a lie," I counter, feeling the weight of consequences already heavy on my shoulders. But I won't let him hear it.

He huffs, and I picture him adjusting those damn glasses of his, looking down at some spreadsheet that doesn't have any answers for this mess.

"I don't like it, Lawrence. You're distracted. We have real things to work on. Like Hargraves, and you're nowhere to be found."

"You don’t get to dictate my personal life, Jason," I say, firm, final.

"I'm telling you that I don't like it," Jason continues, oblivious to my increasing rage. "I get it, maybe the girl's a good lay, different, ya know? But she's putting everything we've worked for at risk."

I can feel the heat rising in my chest, a slow burn that spreads like wildfire. This is Willow he's talking about. My Wildflower. Even if it began as a ruse, she's become something... more. Something real.

"Watch it, Jay," I snap, my words cutting through his tirade like a steel blade. "That’s my fiancée you’re talking about. Watch your mouth, unless you want my fist in it."

There's a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Good. Maybe now he'll understand I'm not playing around when it comes to her. "I’m warning you—stay out of this, or there will be consequences."

"Consequences..." he repeats, the word loaded with skepticism and an undercurrent of threat. "Tell me, Lawrence, do you think it's smart to threaten me considering all I know?"

My office feels smaller all of a sudden, the walls too close. My temper is flaring, but this time, I don't want to control it. "Choose your next words very carefully, Jason."

The silence continues until I hear Jason take a slow, measured breath. "If you don’t call off this engagement, I’ll expose the fact that it’s fake. You know what that will do to your reputation and the company's." His tone is dark, and I know he's not joking.

The threat hangs in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. My heart hammers against my ribcage, each beat a deafening echo in the silence that follows. He dares to threaten me? To threaten Willow?

I feel a growl rise from deep within me, vibrating against my throat. It's primal, territorial. I lean forward, elbows digging into the polished wood, the phone speaker crackling under the weight of my voice.

"You’d better think twice before making threats, Jason. This is my life and my decision."

Maybe he's just trying to cajole me into doing what he thinks is best, but he's miscalculated this time. He doesn't get to dictate the moves in this part of my world. Not when it comes to Willow. Not when it comes to us—even if "us" started out as a well-designed lie.

Jason's got nothing to say for a moment, and I know I've hit a nerve. Good. Let him simmer and calculate, because I won't be intimidated or blackmailed. Not by him, not by anyone.

"Are we clear?" I demand, the edge to my voice as hard as the steel beams that prop up Norfolk's towering cranes.

"Very clear," Jason finally responds, the dry wit absent from his tone. "Just remember, Lawrence, every action has its price."

I smirk, despite the gravity of his words. "Then send me the bill, Jay," I shoot back. But the line's dead, Jason's hung up, leaving me with the dial tone.

"Damn it," I mutter, tossing the phone onto my desk. It skitters across the polished surface, a physical reminder of how quickly things are slipping out of control. I lean back in my chair,the leather creaking under my weight, and scrub a hand through my hair.

I need to get out of the office. Away from work and the people in it. The pipeline is all but approved at this point, and as soon as I can secure Hargraves' support, we'll be home free. And I don't need Jason or anyone else to do that.

I walk out of my office and slam the door shut, frustration boiling over. The corridor's empty, but I could've sworn I heard something. My heart kicks against my ribs like it wants out. Too many secrets in these walls.

The house is quiet, and I realize that Willow must have already gone to bed. I decide that rest may be the best thing for me, too. I make my way to my bedroom and all but throw myself onto the bed. I stare up at the ceiling, alone with my thoughts.

Jason's words echo in my skull, a relentless drumbeat of doom. I wouldn't put it past the man to do exactly what he said. He doesn't need his job; he's got plenty of money. He works because it's something to do and occupies his time.

That means that I need to one-up him. If I don't and quickly, things could quickly go south for me.

Marriage.

The thought flutters into my head, not entirely uninvited.

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