Page 87 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

I exhale, my mind already processing the weight of the decision. “So you fund the expansion, and in return, you get a stake inPerfectly Matched.”

Cassian nods. “Exactly.”

Silence stretches across the table as Grayson and I absorb the magnitude of the proposal.

Grayson finally turns to me. “What do you think?”

I exhale, trying to measure my words carefully. “It’s ambitious. It could eitherskyrocketPerfectly Matchedto a level we’ve never imagined… or it could betoo much, too fast.”

Cassian tilts his head, amusement glinting in his eyes. “That sounds like achallenge, Evans.”

I smirk. “Everything with you is a challenge, Laurent.”

He winks. “And yet, you neverback down.”

Grayson clears his throat, clearlydonewith Cassian’s antics. “We need time to consider.”

Cassian shrugs, reaching for his espresso. “Take your time. But nottoomuch. Opportunities like this don’twait.”

Isabella gives him a sidelong glance, her expression unreadable. “For once, Laurent’s right.”

Cassian turns to her, grinning. “You should say thatmore often.”

She exhales, rubbing her temples. “Don’t push it.”

I suppress a laugh, while Grayson simply sighs.

Cassian leans back in his chair, completely unfazed. “Take the weekend. Think about it. But let’s be honest, you alreadyknowthis is the right move.” And with that, the meeting isover.

Later that evening,back at the penthouse, Grayson and I sit on the balcony, a bottle of wine between us. The night air is crisp, the lights of the city stretching infinitely before us, painting the skyline with promise and pressure.

I take a slow sip of my wine, the glass cool against my fingers. “What if we say yes?”

Grayson watches me carefully, his fingers drumming lightly against his glass. “Then everything changes.”

I nod, the gravity of that truth settling between us like the final move in a high-stakes chess match. “Are we ready for that?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he studies me with that unreadable, too-intense gaze of his before setting his glass down and turning toward me fully. “Areyou?”

I exhale, letting the breeze hit my face, thinking of everything we’ve fought for. The company. Each other. The ridiculous battles and stupid grudges that led us here. “Yes,” I say finally, my voice firm. “Yes, I am.”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he leans back in his chair, looking far too smug. “That sounded surprisingly decisive. Should I be concerned?”

“You should always be concerned when I sound decisive,” I say, shooting him a look. “It usually means I’m about to do something reckless.”

“Like sleep with your business rival?” he teases, swirling the wine in his glass.

I raise a brow. “You meandate,co-run a company with, andfall inconveniently in love withmy business rival?”

His grin deepens. “That one.”

I roll my eyes, fighting the smile threatening to break across my face. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

He clinks his glass against mine. “I’ve been saying that for years.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that only comes when the tension has given way to trust. But of course, it doesn’t last long.

“Cassian’s going to be a handful,” I murmur, resting my chin on my hand. “And Isabella? I can’t tell if she’s going to stab us in the back or save us from ourselves.”

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