Chapter 2

Sebastian straightened, his expression shifting back to its usual impenetrable calm. "We'll finalize the details tomorrow. My driver will pick you up at eight."

Grace blinked. "Eight in the morning?"

"Yes," he replied smoothly, as though her protests were inconsequential. "We'll need to establish our narrative-how we met, how the engagement came about, and all the finer details. If this is going to work, we need to ensure it's seamless."

She clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to throw the champagne in his face. "Fine."

Sebastian glanced over her shoulder, his gaze briefly flickering toward the crowd. "I have business to attend to. Enjoy the rest of your evening." Without another word, he turned and strode away, leaving her standing there with a mixture of disbelief and fury bubbling beneath the surface.

The audacity of the man. It was as if he'd agreed to help her out of sheer amusement, as though she were some sort of pet project to keep him entertained. Grace drained her champagne in one swallow, grimacing at the burn.

"What did you expect?" she muttered to herself. Men like Sebastian Cole didn't offer charity. They made deals, and in his eyes, she was just another transaction.

As she wove her way back through the crowd toward the exit, she felt a hand lightly brush her arm. Startled, she turned to find herself face-to-face with Henry Adler.

"Grace," he said smoothly, his tone dripping with faux concern. "Leaving so soon?"

Her spine stiffened at the sight of him. Henry Adler had the face of a man who belonged in political campaigns-sharp features, impeccable hair, and a smile that never quite reached his eyes. She couldn't help but think he was a wolf wrapped in a designer suit.

"I don't recall inviting you to this event, Henry," she said coolly, pulling her arm free from his touch.

He chuckled, unbothered. "This is New York, Grace. The guest list is merely a suggestion." His gaze dipped briefly to her empty champagne flute before returning to her face. "I hear Hope Haven is struggling. Such a shame. I always thought you'd make a better socialite than a martyr."

Grace's hands balled into fists, but she forced her voice to remain steady. "If you're looking for an apology, you're going to be disappointed."

Henry tilted his head, mockingly pensive. "Oh, I'm not looking for an apology. I'm here to remind you that this little crusade of yours has limits. You can't save the world, Grace, especially not when you're playing in my sandbox."

Her lips thinned. "You've done enough damage, Henry. Stay out of my way."

"Or what?" he asked, his smile widening. "You'll run to Sebastian Cole? You think he's your savior? He's just like me, Grace-ruthless, self-serving, and always three steps ahead. Don't kid yourself into thinking you'll come out of this unscathed."

She stared him down, refusing to let him see the doubt he'd planted in her. "I'll take my chances."

Henry's smile faltered, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you." With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Grace feeling both shaken and more determined than ever.

The next morning, Grace was waiting outside her apartment building when Sebastian's sleek black car pulled up precisely at eight. The driver, a stone-faced man in his fifties, opened the door for her without a word.

Sliding into the backseat, Grace was met with the sharp scent of leather and the sight of Sebastian already seated, typing away on his phone. He glanced up briefly, his dark eyes assessing her simple blouse and pencil skirt before returning to his screen.

"Good," he said. "You're punctual. That's a start."

Grace bit back a retort and settled into her seat. The silence stretched as the car wove through the streets of Manhattan, but she refused to be the first to speak.

Finally, Sebastian put his phone away and turned to her. "Let's begin. How did we meet?"

Grace blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Our story," he said, his tone patient but firm. "How did we meet? You need to know it backward and forward. It needs to be believable."

She thought for a moment, then said, "You donated to Hope Haven. I reached out to thank you, and one thing led to another."

Sebastian's lips quirked into the faintest semblance of a smile. "You're not a very good liar, are you?"

She scowled. "It's not a lie. It's plausible."

"It's boring," he countered. "No one will believe I'd propose to a woman I barely know. We need something with history, something messy enough to be real."

Grace folded her arms. "Like what?"

Sebastian leaned back, his gaze calculating. "How about this: We met at a charity gala two years ago. You challenged me on one of my business practices, and I was intrigued by your passion. We kept in touch, and over time, things... evolved."

"Evolved?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Into an affair," he clarified, his tone casual.

Her cheeks burned. "Absolutely not."

He shrugged. "People love a scandal, Grace. If we give them something to talk about, they'll be too distracted to question the finer details."

"This is my reputation we're talking about," she snapped.

"And mine," he said, his voice hardening. "But if you want me to save your charity, you'll need to trust me on this."

She glared at him, but his expression didn't waver. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Fine. But no unnecessary embellishments."

Sebastian's smile returned, faint but victorious. "Now, about the engagement..."