Bargained Hearts: When Mr. Coldhearted Turns Hopeless Romantic

Why was Darren sitting here? Had he arranged this because of her? A trace of irony brushed against her thoughts. In the past, when she had chased after him, she exhausted every contact just to learn his whereabouts, and even then, she was often turned away without seeing him. Now that she had decided on divorce, he appeared before her again and again, as though fate had suddenly grown attentive. With a polite curve to his lips, Walter broke the silence. "Ms. Morgan, you have arrived late," he said, and there was no warmth behind the civility. Keeping her composure intact, she walked further inside and deliberately checked her wristwatch. "Mr. James, I arrived exactly at the time we agreed upon," she replied evenly. Instead of arguing, he kept smiling as if the matter amused him. "Jonathan, perhaps Ms. Morgan is unfamiliar with Morgan Group's customs since she is newly involved," he said lightly. "However, you should understand them well." Adopting the tone of someone delivering guidance, he leaned back in his chair. "For a dinner of this nature, the host is expected to arrive no less than thirty minutes in advance." Before tension could escalate, Jonathan stepped forward. "Mr. James, that responsibility falls on me, and I owe you an apology," he said in a controlled voice. With a slight gesture of his hand, Walter stopped him mid-sentence. "That will not be necessary, because I did not come here to receive apologies from an assistant," he said calmly. His gaze shifted toward Millie. "If Morgan Group intends for me to treat this discussion with respect, then demonstrate that sincerity, Ms. Morgan. Share a drink with us first, and then we may proceed with business." A courteous expression stretched across Jonathan's face, although it was clearly forced. "She has only recently begun handling matters at Morgan Group, so there is still much for her to learn. This oversight was mine, so I hope you can overlook it." Instead of softening, Walter arched a brow in mild challenge. "And if I choose not to overlook it, what then?" he asked. Tension crept into Jonathan's features because he understood better than anyone that Morgan Group could not afford to offend a potential ally. While the exchange continued, Millie's gaze drifted toward Darren. Their wedding had once drawn nearly every prominent figure in the industry, so there was no chance that Walter had been unaware of who she was. But here he was, repeatedly addressing her as "Ms. Morgan" and placing her in an awkward position, all while Darren observed from the sidelines as if he were merely a spectator. The intent behind the arrangement was impossible to miss, and Darren made no effort to disguise it. Breaking the silence herself, Millie reached for a glass and lifted it calmly. "You are correct, Mr. James," she said evenly. "I will have the drink." Alarm sharpened Jonathan's tone as he stepped closer. "Ms. Morgan—" Concern pressed on him because he knew how protective Ruben was of her, and he also knew the consequences if this crossed a line. To reassure him, Millie met his eyes with a quiet look that told him not to interfere. Without hesitation, she tilted her head back and emptied the glass in a single swallow. A satisfied grin spread across Walter's face. "Very good," he said as he brought his hands together in applause. "That spirit deserves another round." Without waiting for her response, he personally filled a second glass to the brim and placed it in front of her. Concern sharpened Jonathan's expression as he stepped forward once more. "Mr. James—" he said, already anticipating trouble. Before he could continue, Walter dismissed him with a casual wave. "It is a tradition," he said lightly. "Three glasses, no exceptions." Heat was already spreading through her stomach, yet Millie reached for the glass anyway. "It is alright," she replied, steadying her voice despite the burn. Only after the third glass was drained did everyone finally take their seats. While Jonathan attempted to shift the focus toward the contract, Walter smoothly sidestepped every effort and then redirected the attention back to her. With deliberate ease, he suggested that she raise a toast specifically to Darren. If humiliation were a skill, Darren had mastered it long ago. Alcohol had never been her strength, and the effects began to surface quickly as her thoughts blurred and nausea twisted in her gut. Unable to endure it any longer, she offered a brief excuse and left the private room, hoping the cool air outside would steady her senses. From his seat, Darren observed the uneven rhythm of her steps, then quietly set his glass aside. Once in the hallway, he closed the distance behind her and caught her by surprise, sliding an arm firmly around her waist to stop her from moving forward. It had been so long since they had stood this close that the memory felt distant. Once, that kind of proximity would have made her heart race, yet now all she felt was a wave of revulsion rising in her chest. With what strength she had left, Millie pushed against him and tried to break away, but the gap between them was undeniable, and the alcohol in her system made her movements slower and weaker. Fear crept into her voice as she called out, "Jonathan!" Calm and unhurried, Darren tightened his hold. "There is no point," he said evenly. "Walter is keeping him occupied, and this room is fully soundproofed, so no one will hear you." At once, Millie went still. Mistaking her silence for surrender, Darren leaned closer and lowered his tone. "Now you understand, do you not? Unless I give my approval, you could drink until you collapse tonight, and Morgan Group would still walk away empty-handed." Before his last word faded, a sharp surge of pain shot through his foot. Millie had driven the pointed heel of her stiletto straight down onto him. Air rushed from his lungs as he drew in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. The instant his grip loosened, Millie twisted free and hurried down the corridor without looking back. She barely made it a few strides before her momentum carried her straight into someone solid. "Watch your step," a deep, smooth voice said above her. Unsteady, Millie tilted her head up and found herself staring at a man whose features were so refined that they demanded a second glance. Alcohol blurred the edges of her vision, and she blinked several times while shaking her head in an attempt to clear it. Even through the haze, she could see that he was strikingly attractive, and there was something especially distracting about his lips. Whether it was the liquor clouding her judgment or the anger still simmering in her chest, her hand rose without much thought. Lightly, her fingers brushed against his mouth as she muttered, "You look like you are a good kisser." Reason had clearly taken a step back. Amusement flickered across his face, and a slow smile curved at the corner of his lips. "Is that so?" he replied playfully. "Would you like to test that theory?" From behind them, Darren's voice cut sharply through the hallway. "Millie!" The sound of his voice should have grounded her, yet instead it sparked something reckless and defiant inside her. Acting on impulse, Millie stood up and pressed her lips against the stranger's.