CONTRACT BRIDE FOR THE DEVIL

Chapter Eleven:Inside the Lion's Den

*****Maria’s POV*****

The conference room on the 47th floor looked like something out of a futuristic thriller—sleek, silver, and cold. Floor-to-ceiling glass. A long obsidian table. A skyline that stretched into a wall of clouds.

Intimidating, even for me. But Andrew stood tall beside me, unreadable.

Our hands brushed once beneath the table as we sat.

Accidentally.

Maybe.

I didn’t move mine.

Neither did he.

Then the doors opened.

In walked Matthew Farrow—Denmark’s head legal counsel—followed by three other suits, including a woman with steel-gray eyes and an expression that said she didn’t trust anyone.

“Mr. Walker,” Farrow greeted. “And… Mrs. Walker, welcome.”

That title still made my spine stiffen. But I smiled. Smooth. Polished.

“Pleasure,” I said.

Andrew’s hand found the small of my back.

Supportive. Possessive. It was all theater… right?

“Let’s begin,” Farrow said, motioning us toward our seats.

The next hour was numbers and clauses, projections and risks. Andrew spoke in fluent corporate code, and I played my part—offering a few strategic comments where appropriate. I saw the flicker of respect in their eyes every time I spoke.

I wasn’t just a pretty face on Andrew’s arm.

And he knew it.

When Farrow paused to refill his coffee, Andrew leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“You’re killing it in there,” he murmured.

Goosebumps rose on my arms.

“Just trying to keep up with you,” I whispered back.

His hand lingered on my thigh under the table for a second too long before pulling away.

And just like that, I forgot how to breathe.

*****Andrew’s POV ****

After the Meeting

We shook hands. We smiled. We played the perfect couple with perfect synergy and perfectly aligned goals.

But inside, I was a mess.

Maria had always been beautiful, but today… today she was something more. Strategic. Bold. Commanding. She didn’t just stand beside me—she owned the room.

And every time she looked at me, I forgot why this was supposed to be fake.

The elevator ride down was silent.

Then she spoke.

“You think they bought it?”

I looked at her. “They’d be fools not to.”

“Good,” she said, stepping out onto the marble lobby floor. “Because I’m not losing this deal. And neither are you.”

She walked ahead, heels clicking with precision.

And for the first time since I met her, I wasn’t sure who was leading this game anymore—me, or her.