Killian's POV
The numbers blurred. I stared at the quarterly projections on my tablet, flipping through page after page, but none of it registered. My assistant had color-coded everything, the intern had highlighted margins and forecasts, and yet all I could see was the empty space Naomi had carved in my brain last night. I hated loose ends. Especially ones that smelled like lavender and hellfire. The knock on my door was too light to be formal and too confident to be respectful. That only meant one person. "Don't you people knock anymore?" I muttered without looking up. The door creaked open. "What's this I hear about a wedding?" I blinked. Julian. Of course. He strolled in with his usual smug grin, dressed like he'd either just walked off a yacht or was planning to buy one before brunch. He didn't wait for permission-he never did. Just flopped into one of the leather chairs like he owned the place and propped a foot over his knee, eyes glittering with mischief. I raised a brow. "What wedding?" Julian tilted his head, smirk widening. "Oh, come on. Don't play dumb. I heard everything." I leaned back in my chair. "From who?" He clasped his hands together dramatically. "From Evan, your very loyal, very loose-lipped personal lawyer." I clenched my jaw. "Remind me to fire Evan." Julian chuckled. "You won't. You love him. Almost as much as you used to love your ex-wife." I didn't say anything. Silence was usually my sharpest weapon. But this time, it backfired. Julian's eyes widened. "Wait-wait a damn minute." He straightened in his chair, jaw slack. "Are you kidding me right now, Killian? You're getting remarried to Naomi?" "Just on paper," I said quietly. Julian looked like I'd slapped him with a fish. "Just on paper? What the hell does that even mean?" I didn't answer. He scoffed. "Okay, let's back up. You gave her a wedding project, right? That's what Evan said. That Naomi's planning some big wedding. Whose is it? Some rich client?" I leaned forward and shut the tablet. "It's the wedding of one of my close friends." Julian narrowed his eyes. "Which friend?" I didn't answer. "Killian." Still nothing. He pointed a finger at me. "If I find out you have another best friend I don't know about, we're over." I finally cracked a smile. "You're so dramatic." Julian threw his head back. "No, you're insane. You haven't even seen Naomi in what-five years? And now, suddenly, you're playing fake-husband for boardroom approval like this is a goddamn soap opera?" "I'm doing this for the company," I said, more firmly now. "The board wants stability. Confidence. They want to see the man behind Royce Industries acting like he has his life in order. What better way than a reconciliation? It's PR gold." Julian blinked at me. "So you thought, 'Hey, let me pretend to be back with the only woman who's ever made me remotely human. What could go wrong?'" I didn't respond. Because there was nothing to say. He watched me in silence, then slowly leaned forward. "Is this really about the board, or is this about Naomi?" The question sat in the room like smoke. I glanced at the floor, jaw tight. My fingers tapped against the edge of the tablet once. Twice. Julian didn't back off. "You never got over her. Don't lie." "She left me," I muttered. "No warning. No explanation. Just a signed divorce paper shoved through a courier." "And you never asked why?" "I did ask," I snapped. "She didn't answer." Julian raised both hands. "Okay. Chill. Damn." Silence again. I leaned back and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Look. It's not about getting her back. I've moved on. We've both moved on. This... this just makes sense. Former power couple. Reunited. The board eats it up. The press too. It buys me breathing room for the fiscal cycle." Julian shook his head slowly. "You're lying to yourself. And honestly? It's kinda sad." I glared at him. "Thanks for the support." "I'm just saying, if this whole thing backfires, it's not going to be Evan's loose lips that screw you. It'll be your own bleeding heart pretending it doesn't still beat for her." I didn't respond. Mostly because I couldn't. The truth was-I had tried to move on. I'd dated other women. I'd slept with distractions. I'd buried myself in mergers and contracts and international expansions. But nothing quite unhooked her from my mind. Naomi Lancaster. She was lightning in a glass, and I had been dumb enough to drop it. The worst part? I never knew why. One day she was in my bed, warm and laughing. The next, cold silence and finality. I told myself I was better off. That maybe she'd found someone else, or just gotten tired of me. But I never believed it. She wasn't the type to walk away without a reason. I just never figured out what that reason was. My phone buzzed. I glanced at it and froze. Naomi Lancaster Subject: Re: Proposal Terms Message: We need to talk. Now. A slow smile tugged at my lips. "Well," Julian said, watching my face shift. "Looks like the bait worked." I looked at him. "I didn't set a trap." Julian grinned. "No. But you're hoping she walks into it anyway." I turned the screen toward him, letting him read the message. He whistled low. "Wow. One line. Straight to the point. Still hot, still scary. I missed her." I rolled my eyes. "I thought you said you hated her after we got divorced?" He shrugged. "Only because I knew she'd ruin you. And here we are." I stood, crossing to the window. The skyline bled gold and ash in the early evening light. Traffic was slow beneath us. New York was humming. "Are you going to reply?" Julian asked. "No." He arched a brow. "Why not?" "She said 'now,'" I replied, grabbing my coat. "I'll say it in person." Julian groaned. "You're such a romantic. It's disgusting." I turned back briefly. "Keep an eye on Evan. If he leaks anything else, I'll bury him in legal paperwork." Julian grinned. "Tell Naomi I said hi. And also that she better not break your cold, dead heart again." I didn't answer as I headed for the elevator. But the smile on my face didn't fade. Because she replied. Because she took the bait.
