Chapter 4 THE GALLERY
Two days. Forty-eight hours of indecision and pacing through the cracked halls of her father's failing gallery, breathing in the dusty scent of forgotten and unachieved dreams. It wasn't just a gallery... it was a legacy he left behind for her and it was dying. So Lena pulled herself together and got dressed, slapped on some lipstick and walked straight into Sinclair Enterprises like she had every intention of conquering it.
The building was a monolith of steel and glass that glittered under the sun. A fortress that appeared cold and empty much like its master, but at the same time spoke of wealth and grandeur. She didn't even look at the wide-eyed receptionist before stepping into the elevator and riding it up, she watched her reflection fractured and multiplied in the mirrored walls and her heart thundered like a drum but her face stayed still. She had made her choice, and she was going to see it through.
The elevator doors opened and came face to face with his office. She steadied herself, adjusted her gown before knocking and stepping inside. Ethan stood behind a massive black marble desk, he wore an expensive looking suit with gold cuffs, his usual cold and arrogant aura circling around him.
"Miss Carter," he greeted without smiling. "Punctual... I'm impressed."
"Trust me," she said as she came forward, "no one's more surprised than me."
He let out a faint huff of amusement, or maybe disdain and then gestured to the chair across from him.
"Sit."
Like she was some disobedient pet.
Lena remained standing for a little while longer, just to be difficult and to pass a subtle message that he didn't own her. Then she dropped into the chair with a dramatic sigh.
"I assume you've come to accept my proposal," Ethan said, watching her like a cat watches a bird that's already broken its wing.
She lifted her chin. "I'm not doing it for you."
"You're doing it for the gallery," he said smoothly. "What's the difference?"
Without a word, he opened a drawer and withdrew a thick folder which he placed in front of her.
The contract.
"You had it ready?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"I like efficiency and I like being prepared," he replied. "And I don't gamble."
"Arrogant much?" she muttered, flipping open the folder.
Ethan didn't even blink. "Accurate."
She scanned the terms of the contract, one year marriage, no claim on assets beyond the agreed-upon sum, mandatory appearances at corporate events, a confidentiality clause that made her stomach turn. And at the end, the sum he'd promised... the money that could save the gallery from complete collapse.
"This is brutal," she said.
"It's business."
She looked up at him. "Do you ever do anything that's not like it was programmed for a machine?"
"No," he said without hesitation. "Emotion is a weakness and well made plans are power."
God, he was insufferable. And somehow terrifyingly attractive in his own frigid way. With a flourish, Lena signed her name even though it felt like bleeding onto the page.
Ethan took the document back.
"Congratulations, Miss Carter," he said in his icy cold voice. "You're officially engaged."
"Don't sound so excited," she snapped.
Before he could retort, the door burst open.
"Tell me I'm not late to crash something fun," a new voice announced cheerfully.
Lena turned to see a man striding in... a handsome young man that looked slightly younger than Ethan. Tousled blond hair, a dazzling grin, and a casual confidence that seemed to light up the room. Compared to Ethan's stone cold presence, this guy was a damn bonfire.
"Hugo," Ethan said with what might almost have sounded like tolerance. "Meet Lena Carter."
Hugo made an exaggerated bow. "Charmed, Miss Carter. Or should I say, soon-to-be Mrs. Sinclair?"
Lena stiffened. "Getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
"Not at all," Ethan said coolly. "Hugo will be my best man."
Hugo straightened, eyebrows shooting up. "Wait. You're really doing it? You're actually getting married?"
Ethan nodded once, like he was confirming the weather report.
"Public announcement's happening today," he added smoothly. "The wedding will take place in a few days."
Lena blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You didn't think I was going to drag this out, did you?" he asked, his tone remained cold and ruthless.
"Most people spend months planning a wedding," she snapped.
"We're not most people," Ethan said. "And this isn't a fairytale, it's a contract."
"You could at least pretend it's romantic," she muttered.
"I don't deal in illusions," he said. "And remember the terms of our agreement."
Hugo whistled lowly, clearly sensing the tension between them like exposed wires. "Man, you two are gonna be fun at the honeymoon."
Ethan ignored him, already pulling out his phone and barking orders to someone on the other end. "Set up the press conference in the atrium. Fifteen minutes. Full coverage."
Lena shot to her feet. "You're not serious."
He ended the call and turned to her, without an atom of remorse on his face. "Get used to it. You're about to be the most watched woman in this city."
"I didn't sign up to be paraded like some damn trophy," she hissed.
"You signed up to save your gallery," Ethan said icily. "And I'm delivering."
Hugo gave a low chuckle from the corner. "If it helps, you're definitely a trophy upgrade from his usual company."
Lena scowled. "I don't need your approval, sunshine."
Hugo threw up his hands. "Hey, no offense taken. I like her, Sinclair. She's got teeth."
Ethan's mouth twitched. The faintest crack in his frozen armor.
Fifteen minutes later, Lena stood beside Ethan in the gleaming white atrium of Sinclair Enterprises, surrounded by flashing cameras and murmuring reporters. Ethan's hand rested lightly but possessively on her back... a move for the cameras, but still his touch felt like a brand. When the room finally settled, he stepped up to the podium with a calm and lethal look on his face.
"I appreciate you all coming on such short notice," he began, his cold voice hushing every side murmur. "Today, I have an important announcement to make regarding the future of Sinclair Enterprises."
The reporters leaned in, pens poised.
Lena braced herself.
"In a few days' time," Ethan continued smoothly, "I will be getting married."
A collective gasp rippled through the room and he turned slightly, fixing Lena with a weird possessive look.
"To Lena Carter," he finished, his voice steady.
The room exploded into chaos... shouts, flashes, questions hurled like stones. and Lena, standing stiffly by his side, realized with brutal clarity... There was no turning back now.