Our gazes collide the moment I walk through the door. Winnie looks so afraid, sitting there in the large office chair perched in front of her father’s desk with her shoulders drawn inward as if she’s closing in on herself from shame.

“Good morning, Archer,” Spencer, Winnie’s father, says. Even though my focus is on her, I can see him stand up and come around his desk from the corner of my eye.

She stares at me, her full, pink lips parted in shock as she watches me closely. I force myself to rip my gaze from hers, knowing I have no business staring at her for longer than necessary.

My eyes meet the man I’ve been told was an enemy of my family my entire life. We’ve attended plenty of events together. We may run in the same circle, but the Moores and the Bishops avoid each other at all costs whenever possible.

Due to my great-grandfather being screwed over by Winnie’s great-grandfather in what was supposed to be a partnership, there’s been bad blood between the families. It’s a battle that’s still fought to this day, both Winnie’s and my father ensuring to fuel the grudge between us.

I’d feel bad for what my relatives did in retaliation for the betrayal, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It’s the reason the hotel empire my family has built is more successful than the Bishops’.

“Thank you for agreeing to finish our meeting in person,” Spencer continues, holding his hand out in front of him. I shake it, making sure to make it firm so he knows who holds all of the power in this situation. The slight frown to his lips tells me everything I need to know, regardless of the handshake. He knows who’s in charge. It isn’t him, and he hates it.

He’d called my father first thing this morning, needing help with the situation his family’s in. The last thing I expected was for my father to call me into his office and give me the news that Spencer Bishop needed our help. We’d spent over an hour talking to him over the phone before my dad sent me here to finish the agreement.

“I’ve got to get to another meeting in an hour,” I clip out, not wanting to beat around the bush.

“Take a seat,” Spencer offers, pointing to the chair next to Winnie’s.

Our gazes connect briefly before I sigh and pull out the chair next to hers. I make sure to pull it a little further away from where she sits so I’m not surrounded by her. Although I’m not sure how much distance it’d take for me not to smell the sweet, alluring scent of her perfume wafting around me.

It surrounds me as I unbutton my suit jacket and sit down.

“Winifred, as you know, this is Archer Moore. He’s come to help us with your horrible mistake.”

My teeth grind together at the tone he uses with his daughter. I wonder if he’s even noticed the slight tremble to her body. Or the way her shoulders hunch over with anxiety from his words. It’s as if she wants to curl into a ball to avoid his harsh tone and cold eyes.

“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice meek. My eyes bounce from her to her father. I don’t want to know how he talks to her behind closed doors if he’s so freely chastising her like this in front of someone new.

His face reddens with anger. “Our hands are tied because of you and your reckless decision to get involved with an employee.”

Winnie flinches at his words. “I never thought…”

“That’s right. You didn’t think. Fuck,” he curses, pinching his large nose between his finger and thumb. “We’ll talk more about your dumb decisions later. Right now, we need to focus on solving this problem.”

I resist the sudden urge to reach across the space between us and lay my hand on her thigh to stop her leg from anxiously tapping. Instead, I keep my hands folded in my lap to keep myself in line.

There are so many places I’d rather be than sitting in the office of the CEO of Bishop Hotels. If it was anyone but my father who asked me to be here, I would’ve told them to fuck off. I wouldn’t care what kind of help the Bishop family needed, they wouldn’t get it from me.

But the intense need to make my father proud of me runs deep. It’s in my blood, wanting to not disappoint him, wanting him to trust me enough to appoint me the CEO of the Moore hotel dynasty one day. And to get that, I had to come here today. I have to do whatever my dad and Spencer are asking of me, but it doesn’t mean I have to be eager to do it.

Spencer must’ve said something while I rattled off the reasons in my head that keep me seated instead of rushing out of the office and forgetting all about what I’m supposed to do. Both Winnie and Spencer stare at me expectantly, clearly waiting for me to respond to whatever was said.

“Repeat that,” I demand, trying to make it seem like I wasn’t paying any attention.

Spencer refuses to look at his daughter, instead keeping his angry, beady eyes on me. “Would you like to tell her what the plan is?”

My fingers drum against my thigh. Not really. I’d rather not go through with the plan at all. The only reason I agreed to it is because Moore Hotels is getting a large stake in Bishop Hotels, one that will put me on the board as a decision-maker.

It’ll shock the industry that a truce has been made, and it’ll give my family even more power in the market. My father expected me to do this, so that’s what I’m doing.

“Tell me what?” Winnie asks. Her voice is so soft the question comes out barely more than a whisper.

I let out a long, controlled sigh as I try to ease the tension in my shoulders. No one told me I was the one who had to break the news to her about our arrangement.

I expected to show up and meet with Spencer alone. We’d go back and forth until I felt like my family was getting the best deal possible. She wouldn’t have even been involved until the agreement was done, the ink dry on the contracts. Instead, I get the fun luxury of undoubtedly ruining her life by telling her what her father expects of her.

I know very well how heavy the expectations of a father can sit on one’s shoulders. If I cared more about anything, I might feel bad for feeding into what her father is forcing her to do. But I shouldn’t care—so I don’t.

There’s a silence between the three of us as I try to think of how best to break it to the woman sitting next to me that she’s about to bind her life to me. Sighing, I realize there’s no gentle way to say it. I try not to think too hard into why I want to give her the news gently to begin with.

“We’re getting married,” I announce, my words slow so she can’t misunderstand them.

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