Tricking My Cold Billionaire

Anastasia. I sat in my cubicle, punching numbers into a spreadsheet and closing out a sales report when the tap of designer heels, a characteristic click of a heel on tile, approached me. I didn't look up. I didn't have to. The choking perfume, the self-satisfied attitude; it could be only one person. Georgia. "Your presence is required in the conference room," Georgia said in a voice deliberately raised to attract the attention of those nearby. Then, as if unable to control herself, she leaned in slightly and remarked, "Perhaps while you’re there, you can lean over for the CFO. Be useful." Some people around us giggled. One even snorted under his breath. My grip on my pen tightened. I swallowed the words welling up in my throat, ‘The CFO is my fiancé, you i***t’, and instead clamped my lips shut tightly, breathing in through my nose. Responding would only satisfy Georgia. Without glancing at anyone, I shut my laptop, took my notepad, and stood up. With every step toward the conference room, I forced myself to inhale. It wasn't just Georgia. Rumor had been swirling ever since my fiancé, Freddy, became the Monty & Co CFO. They hinted at how I "made myself" fortunate, how I "slept my way to the top." Forget the fact that I’d worked myself to the bone for years for this company. I stiffened my shoulders and pushed the door open. Inside, Freddy sat at the long conference table, his gaze on Seb Monty, the CEO. The two men glanced up as I entered. "Have a seat, Anastasia," Seb said, gesturing to the chair opposite him. I slid into it, setting my notepad on the table. "What's happening?" Seb exhaled, rubbing his temple. "We need you to sit down with West Wallmore." My eyebrows furrowed. "West Wallmore?" My brain was shocked by the name. "Why? What does he have to do with us?" Seb looked over at Freddy before responding. "He's launching a hostile takeover bid. He's already acquired a couple of smaller firms. And now? Monty & Co is the next in line." My gut dropped. "What?" I exclaimed. "How can that possibly happen?" "We're under pressure right now," Freddy admitted, tone gritty. "If Wallmore buys enough stock, we'll be forced into a merger. And you know what that means." I did. It meant firing. It meant complete reworking. It meant our entire company, our future, our reputation, would be shattered. I sat forward. "Fine. But why am I seeing him? I'm a financial analyst, not a negotiator. You have lawyers for this. You have board members who…" "We don't need lawyers. We need someone to convince him not to go through with the takeover," Seb cut in. "And we can't think of anyone better than you." I looked him down with a level stare. "That is the worst reasoning I've ever heard." Seb did smile, but it was not a humorous one. "You're sharp, Anastasia. You know our numbers, and better yet, you're a persuasive person. If anyone is going to get him to change his mind about this, it's you." I shook my head. "You make it sound like its a walk in the park.I can't do this.” Freddy sighed, rubbing his hand against his temple. "Well, we aren't asking if you can. That's an order from your superiors." My mouth fell open, eyes widening. Seb nodded. "There is a meeting that has been set with Wallmore today. 4 PM. Attend. And Anastasia?" I lifted my eyebrows. "If you're unable to manage this, then…" He reclined in his chair, tone relaxed yet the menace was evident. "I guess you wouldn't deserve that promotion we've discussed, would you?" I stiffened. So that was the way they were going to play this game. My stomach was twisted into knots, but I tried not to show anything on my face. I stood up, took my things, and turned around on my heel without a word. When I came out of the meeting room, Georgia overtook me, coming out of nowhere. "Guess they didn't screw you well enough if they're making you work for that promotion." There was laughter. My fists clenched, but I kept walking. I had more pressing concerns to worry about. Back in my cubicle, I collapsed into my chair, my head spinning. How the devil am I going to get West Wallmore not to buy Monty & Co? I glanced at the clock. 1:32 PM. Less than three hours. I groaned and leaned forward to turn on my computer. ———— I exited the taxi, paying the fare while looking up at the foreboding structure of Wallmore Industries HQ. Sleek. Modern. Foreboding. It loomed above me like a threat. I drew a bracing breath and smoothed out my blouse before heading inside. The lobby was immaculate with marble floors, minimal furnishings, high-end, business-casual clad staff hurrying by with an air of poise and superiority. Even the receptionist at the front desk barely looked my way. I moved forward and cleared my throat. "I have a 4 PM appointment with Mr. Wallmore. From Monty&Co." The receptionist typed at her keyboard, then said matter-of-factly, "Forty-third floor." No small talk. No acknowledgement. I nodded and made for the elevators. I forced my way into one with a group of Wallmore employees, their eyes scanning my clothing, simple, not brand name and sneering before turning their gazes elsewhere to mutter to each other. My jaws tightened. Get in, get your work done, and get out. That was my mantra. When the elevator at last opened on the forty-third floor with a "ding," I exited, ignoring the curious glances. I approached the receptionist there and was pointed in the direction of the corridor. My heart was racing as I arrived at the large office door. I knocked. No one answered. I knocked again. Still nothing. I furrowed my brow and paused before opening the door. The office was spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows that set the city skylines blaze. In the center of the room, there was a black desk, bookshelves to either side filled with a mix of business books and books on strategic warfare. A leather couch was positioned to the side, opposite of a bar cart stocked with old whiskey. It was cold. Calculated. Just what I’d expect from a man such as West Wallmore. Curiosity won out, and I wandered into the room towards the bookcase, hands tracing the coverings on the books. That's when I heard him. A throaty, low rumble. "Do I need to call the police?" I froze, my breath constricting. I whirled, looking at the figure of the man who was standing silhouetted in the doorway. West Wallmore. Tall. Dark featured And he was half naked.