A one-night stand. A surprise pregnancy. Emma's world changes when billionaire Liam Westbrook asks her to marry him for their baby. But what starts as a business deal soon turns into something much more complicated. Liam has his own secrets, and Emma's strong-willed nature challenges everything he thought he knew about love. As they face family drama and a dangerous rival, they'll have to decide if they can trust each other or if their pasts will tear them apart. Passion, lies, and the truth about love collide in this suspenseful romance where nothing is easy and everything is at risk.
Chapter 1 The Encounter
Emma's POV
If there was ever a time to fake confidence, it was now. High heels. Sparkling dress. I'd even put on lipstick. Yet, surrounded by a crowd that looked like they walked straight out of a "Billionaires of Manhattan" spread, I felt like the ultimate imposter. Every instinct screamed to run. But Sophie had dragged me here, practically ordering me to "live a little" after my latest breakup.
"Emma, you've got to get out there." Sophie nudged me. "Look around! Everyone here is fabulous."
"That makes one of us," I muttered, eyeing the gleaming marble floors and impossibly beautiful people.
"Oh, stop it. I dressed you like a knockout," she said, grinning. "Tonight is about new beginnings. Speaking of which..." She turned to the bartender, flashing him a smile that was as glittery as her sequined dress. "Two martinis, please."
"Sophie," I said as the bartender nodded. "I don't even like martinis."
"It's not about liking them." She winked. "It's about sipping them with mystery."
I laughed despite myself and took the glass. "Fine. Here's to living a little," I said, raising it.
Before I could take a sip, the presence of someone nearby stole my attention. And I mean stole it. Tall, broad-shouldered, impossibly sharp in a dark suit that probably cost more than my rent. The man wasn't looking at me-yet I felt the weight of his presence like a magnet.
He turned then, and for a split second, our eyes locked. My stomach did a strange flip. He was looking at me with the kind of intensity that made my heart skip a beat. But it was his smirk-a knowing, cocky, I'm-better-than-you smirk-that snapped me out of it.
Great. Just what I needed-a walking billboard for male arrogance.
"Not a fan?" Sophie whispered, following my gaze and raising an eyebrow. "Well, he looks like a lot of fun to me."
"Yeah, I'll pass," I said, tearing my eyes away.
But the man, with the air of someone who never took no for an answer, was already heading my way. The crowd parted effortlessly for him, like he owned the room. He stopped in front of me, one eyebrow raised as if he'd caught me doing something I shouldn't.
"You don't exactly look thrilled to be here." His voice was deep, smooth. The kind that suggested he wasn't used to hearing disagreement.
I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze with as much indifference as I could muster. "Is that supposed to be some kind of line?"
"Just an observation." He tilted his head, his eyes sweeping over me with that same confident arrogance. "You don't seem like the cocktail party type."
"Well, aren't you perceptive." I took a deliberate sip of my drink, barely managing not to grimace.
"Do you have a name?" he asked, that infuriating smile widening.
I lifted my chin. "Depends on who's asking."
He leaned closer, and I caught a hint of his cologne-expensive, bold, and impossible to ignore. "Liam Kingston. And you?"
"Emma," I said, refusing to be the first to break eye contact. He was close now, too close, and that energy he exuded was wrapping itself around me like a net.
"Emma," he repeated, as if testing the sound of it. "So, tell me, Emma-why is a girl like you hanging back at a party like this?"
"A girl like me?" I scoffed. "And here I thought we'd skipped the stereotypes."
"Just curious," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "After all, most people here are doing anything to be noticed."
I shrugged. "Maybe I'm just here for the free drinks."
He laughed, low and smooth, and I hated that it sent a shiver down my spine. "Well, whatever your reasons," he murmured, "you've succeeded in getting my attention."
"Oh, is that what I was trying to do?" I replied with a roll of my eyes, my tone as dry as I could manage. But somehow, his smirk only grew.
"Careful, Emma. That attitude of yours might just be intriguing."
I took a sip of my martini, wishing I hadn't agreed to come tonight. This man-Liam Kingston, of all people-was the last complication I needed. I'd read about him in passing: young billionaire, ruthless, charming when it suited him. The kind of guy who played with people's lives like they were pawns on a chessboard.
"Don't worry, Mr. Kingston. I'm just here with a friend. You don't have to find me 'intriguing.'" I set my glass down, ready to make my escape.
But before I could slip away, he reached out, catching my wrist with the barest touch. Just enough to make me pause. Just enough to send another unwelcome spark through me.
"You don't run off that easily," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and command. "Stay a little longer."
"Why?" I met his gaze, daring him to say something ridiculous.
"Because I don't think you're here for the free drinks." His voice dropped, and for a moment, the room seemed to fade, leaving just him and me, locked in a standoff I didn't quite understand. "Tell me, Emma...what are you running from?"
The question hung in the air between us, loaded, pointed, and somehow hitting far too close to home. But I wasn't about to let him see that.
I pulled my wrist free and smiled, sweet as sugar. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
He didn't blink, didn't flinch. Just watched me with a steady, unreadable expression. "Maybe I would."
"Well, that's too bad," I shot back, keeping my voice light. "Because I don't plan on being anyone's mystery tonight. Least of all yours."
For a moment, he was silent, as if weighing his options. Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I think you're exactly what I need tonight."
My pulse quickened. His words were a trap, a challenge, and part of me knew it. But standing there, caught in his gaze, the pulse of the party fading into the background...I was dangerously close to stepping right into it.
I took a steadying breath, breaking eye contact. "Good luck with that, Liam."
And with a pointed turn, I left him standing there, the thrill of walking away crackling through me like electricity.
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