Chapter 5 - The Midnight AuditBy midnight, the acquisition papers were signed, the directors had cleared out, and the penthouse was utterly silent.
I stood in the vast stainless-steel kitchen, scrubbing down the prep counters with a damp cloth, my muscles aching with a deep, satisfying exhaustion. The adrenaline had faded, leaving behind the quiet reality of a new mother who needed to pump milk and get back to her babies.
The kitchen doors swung open, and Warren walked in, having shed his tuxedo jacket. He rolled up his crisp white sleeves, revealing forearms corded with muscle, and leaned against the counter near me.
“You didn't have to do that tonight, Amelia,” he said softly.
“Bring me into a den of wolves?” I stopped wiping the counter and looked at him. “No, I suppose I didn't. But you gave me a front-row seat to watching them bleed. I won't pretend I didn't enjoy it.”
Warren smiled, a rare, genuine expression that transformed his sharp, intimidating face into something warm and dangerously attractive. “You’re tougher than you look, Amelia Reed.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that,” I replied, tossing the cloth into the sink. “Usually right before they try to buy me or use me. So forgive me if I keep my guard up.”
Warren didn't look offended. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a manila folder, placing it gently on the stainless-steel surface between us. “What is this?” I asked, frowning.
“An audit of your catering business,” he said simply. “And an investment proposal. Cole Industries is acquiring a portfolio of boutique culinary ventures across the Southeast. We want to make Amelia Reed Events our flagship regional partner. Full backing, commercial kitchen space in Buckhead, distribution rights, and zero corporate interference.”
I stared at him, my breath catching. “Why? You don't even know me, Warren. We met because you walked into the wrong hospital room.”
“There are no accidents, Amelia,” Warren said, taking a step closer, his silver-blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my skin tingle. “When I walked through that door and saw you holding on to those bed rails, fighting entirely alone... I didn't see a victim. I saw a queen holding her ground against an army. I invest in people like that.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then I walk away,” he said quietly. “Just like I did that night. But I don't think you’re going to say no.”
May you like
He was right. I couldn't. With that kind of backing, I could secure my children’s future forever. I could buy a house with a porch—a bigger one than the one in Macon. I could show Derek Fontaine and his entire family what it meant to lose to someone they thought they had crushed.
I picked up the pen lying beside the folder. “Where do I sign?”
