Chapter 4

The Ritz-Carlton's dimly lit bar was the perfect place for what I was about to do. Far enough from our corporate circles to avoid prying eyes, yet prestigious enough to convey the gravity of what I was proposing. I sat in a corner booth, my hand unconsciously moving to my stomach—a protective gesture that had become second nature over the past week.

Holden Bishop arrived precisely at eight. Tall, imposing, with a gaze that assessed everything in seconds. Our companies had been rivals for years, but I'd always respected his business acumen. Now I needed it.

"Brooke Knight," he said,…