Marry Me Or Lose Everything

The conference room went silent the second I walked in. Not the good kind of silent. The kind where twelve people suddenly remember they have urgent emails to check, and their eyes slide anywhere except to my face. I kept my spine straight and my portfolio clutched tight. Three years at Park Industries. Three years of late nights, reworked proposals, and being called "ambitious" like it was an insult. Three years of being told I was "too aggressive" for a woman in finance. Today was supposed to pay off. "Ah, Ms. Rivera," CEO Park said, barely looking up from his tablet. His reading glasses sat low on his nose, the same way they had the day he interviewed me for an unpaid internship. "You're early. Good. Meet your co-lead." I dropped my portfolio on the table with a soft thud. The sound echoed. And then I looked across at him. Ethan Park. Heir to Park Industries. The guy who'd been in line for Head of Development since he learned to tie a tie. The guy who'd spent the last month 'accidentally' forwarding me emails titled Re: Why Olivia Rivera Isn't Management Material. The guy whose family name was on the building, the logo, and half the city skyline. He stood up slowly, suit tailored to hell, jaw tight enough to c***k. His eyes were dark, sharp, assessing me like I was a problem to be solved. "Congratulations," he said, voice like ice over steel. "On stealing my job." I smiled. Sweet, fake, practiced. The kind of smile I'd learned in customer service and never gotten rid of. "I didn't steal anything, Mr. Park. I just had the better pitch. Maybe you should've worked harder." His eyes flicked down to my hands. To the faint scars across my knuckles. Yeah, I'd worked three jobs to put myself through school. Night shifts at the diner, weekend tutoring, and still making Dean's List. He noticed. I saw the flicker. He hated that I saw it. The CEO cleared his throat, the sound loud in the tense room. "Enough. Board decision is final. You two will co-lead the Meridian Project. Six months. If it fails, both of you are out. If it succeeds, one of you becomes Head of Development." The room shifted. Whispers. This wasn't just a promotion anymore. It was a public execution with two people on the chopping block. Ethan's jaw locked. Mine did too. I'd spent three years clawing my way out of the 'junior analyst' pile. I wasn't losing now to a guy who'd had a corner office waiting for him since graduation. "As of Monday," CEO Park continued, "you'll share the 42nd-floor office, the project budget, and the board's expectations. Work it out." Work it out. Right. Like putting a lion and a cheetah in the same cage and telling them to share the meat. The meeting ended fast after that. People scattered, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire. I packed my things quickly, keeping my expression neutral even though my pulse was hammering. "Rivera." Ethan's voice stopped me at the door. I turned. He was already in front of me, cutting off my path. Up close, he was taller than I remembered. Annoyingly so. "You think you can play corporate games with me?" he said quietly, so only I could hear. "I'll break you." I stepped closer, close enough that he had to look down at me. My heels helped, but not much. "Try it, Park," I said, keeping my voice level. "I break back." For half a second, something flashed in his eyes. Surprise. Maybe respect. He buried it fast. He let go of the doorframe like I'd burned him and stepped back. "Monday, 8 AM. Don't be late." "I'm never late," I said. "Unlike some people's ethics." His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. "Careful, Ms. Rivera. Defamation lawsuits are expensive." I walked out before I said something I'd regret. Or something I'd mean. --- The elevator ride down was silent. Too silent. I stared at my reflection in the steel doors. Hair pulled back tight, blazer a size too small because I hadn't had time to replace it, eyes too sharp. I looked like someone who had something to prove. Because I did. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Maya, my best friend and the only other person in this company who didn't treat me like a threat or a charity case. Maya: YOU GOT IT?! TELL ME YOU GOT IT!!! Me: Co-lead. With him. Maya: ...Ethan Park? Me: The one and only. Maya: OH NO. This is either going to end in a lawsuit or a wedding. There is no middle ground. I snorted. Maya had been reading too many web novels again. Me: If I get murdered, tell my mom I love her. Maya: If you get married, I'm the maid of honor. No debate. I tucked my phone away as the elevator doors opened to the lobby. The building hummed with late-afternoon energy. People heading home, interns running last-minute errands, security guards nodding at me as I passed. Three years. And this was the first time I felt like I actually belonged here. Even if it came with Ethan Park attached. --- That night, I spread the Meridian Project files across my kitchen table. Meridian was Park Industries' biggest bid in five years—a smart-city development deal worth 400 million. If we pulled it off, Park Industries would dominate the sector for a decade. If we failed, the stock would tank and heads would roll. And Ethan and I were supposed to lead it together. I flipped through the initial proposal. My proposal. The one I'd worked on for eight months, pulling data, running simulations, staying up until 3 AM more nights than I could count. The margins were tight. The timeline was aggressive. And the board had added a clause I didn't like: weekly joint reports. Meaning Ethan and I would have to sit in a room together and pretend we weren't plotting each other's downfall. My phone buzzed again. Unknown Number: You're in over your head, Rivera. No name. But I knew. I typed back: Try me. Three dots appeared. Disappeared. No reply. Good. Let him stew. I stayed up until 2 AM rewriting the risk analysis section, adding contingencies I knew Ethan would ignore. If he wanted to play dirty, fine. I'd play smarter. --- Monday, 8:00 AM. The 42nd-floor office was bigger than my apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows, a conference table that could seat twenty, and two desks positioned at opposite ends like a demilitarized zone. Ethan was already there, tie perfect, sleeves rolled up just enough to look effortless. He didn't look up when I walked in. "Morning," I said. "Coffee's on the credenza," he replied without looking up. "Don't touch my files." "I wasn't planning to," I said, setting my bag down on the other side of the room. "But if you leave them open, that's on you." He finally looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. He'd been here late too. "Let's get one thing straight," he said. "I don't like you. You don't like me. But if we fail, we both lose. So we work. Professionally. No sabotage. No snide comments in meetings." "No snide comments?" I raised an eyebrow. "That's going to be hard." His jaw tightened. "Be professional, Olivia." "Be professional, Ethan." We stared at each other. Then the intercom buzzed. "Mr. Park, Ms. Rivera, board meeting in 48 hours. They want the preliminary presentation." Forty-eight hours. For a project that usually got six weeks of prep. Ethan stood up, already moving to the whiteboard. "Alright. We split the sections. You take finance and logistics. I'll handle stakeholder relations and technical specs." I crossed my arms. "Why do you get stakeholder relations? That's my strongest area." "Because my last name gets their calls answered," he said bluntly. "This isn't about fair, Rivera. It's about winning." I hated that he was right. "Fine," I said. "But if you mess up my section, I'm not covering for you." "Wouldn't expect you to." We worked. It was awkward, tense, and weirdly efficient. He was infuriatingly competent when he wanted to be. I found myself biting back comments just to keep the peace. At 6 PM, we had a rough draft. At 7 PM, we found out the shared drive had been wiped. All our work. Gone. Ethan slammed his fist on the desk. "Someone deleted it." I checked my laptop. My local copy was gone too. "Backups?" "Corrupted." We looked at each other. Someone didn't want us to make that presentation. And now we had 24 hours to rebuild it from memory or both of us were finished.