Chapter 4 : The Billionaire

I just stood there staring at my husband.

His eyes bored into mine the way they had at the bank that day.

He was not supposed to be here. According to him, he was out of the country today. He was meant to be out of the country for the next week. But there he was sitting behind a large glass desk that had the New York skyline as its backdrop. The entire wall behind him was made of only windows. The office was incredibly spacious and luxurious.

White leather furniture in the middle of the room. A large and expansive library to the side. I was even sure he had some rare first editions there. The man looked like he liked to read and not the little smutty romance books I had tucked away in my studio apartment.

The room smelt like money.

Was that even possible? Well, I guess it was considering my husband smelt like this.

“Please come in, ladies.” His voice reached my ears, causing a slow shudder to travel down my spine. “I have been looking forward to this interview.”

There was something in his tone that made me feel like he was speaking more to me than to Amy. There was this small glint in his eyes—a twinkle of mischief.

He knew.

He knew that this was the company that I worked for. But how? Had he looked me up when we got married?

“Move,” Amy hissed at me as she pushed me into the room. “Head in the game, D.”

Right, I had a job to do.

I walked in with Amy, my hands feeling far more damp than they had been when I arrived. My heart hammered hard in my chest, the blood rushing past my ears. My head had a million different questions going off all at once and I was struggling to keep a straight thought.

Miles Scott. I was married to the Miles Scott.

We settled into our seats, the awkward silence only growing the longer I remained quiet. I didn’t even know where to begin. How did I even start this conversation?

‘Hey, husband?’

Amy was looking at me weirdly, a question in her eyes that I had no way to answer at this moment. We sat down on the leather chairs across from his desk, the feel of it cool against my burning skin.

“So, ladies,” he leaned back in his chair, the top button of his shirt was undone, and underneath was a small chain that glistened against the sunlight that streamed in, “where should we begin?”

He was addressing both of us but his eyes were on me.

“Well,” Amy cleared her throat essentially saving me, “we would first like to thank you for choosing to sit down with us, Mr. Scott. I know that you are a very busy man and you have many things on your plate.”

“Of course.” He offered her a simple nod. “It’s a pleasure to have you both here.”

“So, I think that we should start off easy.” Amy opened up her folder with her questions and notepad. “Your great-grandfather started this business as a development company but slowly, over time it has become so much more. You are the first of the Scott men to dive into the fashion industry. Can you tell us why that is? What drew you to the fashion world?”

“Money.” He didn’t even bat an eyelash.

I gaped at him for being so crass but quickly fixed my face. There was no need for me to have any kind of opinion here. This was just an interview with a man I had just met today. I needed to keep reminding myself of that.

“Well that’s an honest answer if I ever heard one,” Amy laughed.

“I chose luxury fashion because my mother always had a flare for fashion. She was a collector of bags and shoes. And she had far more clothes than one human should ever have.” Miles’s eyes moved to meet mine before they moved back to Amy. “She loved Bravano, La Teserié and Machiavelli. Those brands were some of her favorites and I saw it only fitting to place them under the MSG umbrella.”

This was a much more…heartfelt answer than what he had first given us. And it touched me that he would care so much for his mother that he would do this. Those brands were not cheap as well. MSG had to pay at least 320 million to acquire all three. The story had made headlines across the country.

“That is incredible that you would do something like that for her. Is it okay if we ask you some more questions about your family? Your assistant said we would have to ask you if you wanted to dive a little deeper into your personal life.”

Thank God for Amy because if I was left here to do—

“Miss Andrews,” he called my name, drawing me out of my thoughts.

Okay, he was using my maiden name.

I nearly choked on my saliva. That had been my name 48 hours ago. But not now.

“Yes, Mr. Scott?” We were playing the pretend game. I could do that.

“Do you think that your readers would care to hear more of my personal life?” His eyes shifted slightly and that serious gaze was gone. It was now replaced by that twinkle that I had seen when we first stepped into the office.

“I…” I cleared my throat, opening my folder. “You are quite the enigma. A lot of people don’t know much about you. All they know is that you’re wealthy and you are the fourth generation Scott to take over. The people want more of you. They want a snippet to who Miles—I mean, Mr. Scott is.”

Was it hot in here? Why were my cheeks burning up?

I could only imagine how red my cheeks were.

Could this day get any worse for me?

“No, please. I’d prefer it if you called me Miles. This interview is not all serious, right Dove?”

The way he said my name was like a ten-tonne truck had hit the middle of my chest. The air left my lungs and expelled out my mouth in a low and breathless gasp.

Amy snapped her neck in my direction. I could see the wheels turning in her head. She was slowly putting the pieces together.

“Are you okay?” she mouthed at me.

I nodded my head, my eyes moving back to the man who sat comfortably looking at me.

“Of course, Miles.” Saying his name out loud was so foreign to my tongue. I didn’t even say his name the day we got married. “How deep would you like to go into your personal life?”

“You can go as deep as you would like. I like going deep anyway.”

I dropped the pen that I had been twirling in my hand, my face heating and my cheeks likely growing redder. I saw the slight tilt in his lips and knew that he was messing with me. He wanted to get reactions out of me.

I couldn’t even say two could play at that game because I had to be the professional one here. My job was on the line and I needed to do good in this.

“Great,” Amy piped up again for me. “Would you like to tell us about your parents?”

He was silent for a beat, the twinkle in his eyes fading and the serious more stoic version of him coming forward.

“They died in a car crash. It was very sad.”

The way he answered the question with little to no emotion in his voice made me feel sorry for him. He was so detached from such a traumatic event.

“I see, and how did you cope with losing them both at such a young age?”

“I wasn’t that young. I was seventeen at the time. I was practically of legal age.”

“That may be true but seventeen is hardly an adult. For all intents and purposes, you were still a child, even back then. It must have been so hard for you.” I don’t know why I had interjected but I just felt like I needed to say something to him. “You sound so cold and detached from it all and I can only imagine how much pain it must have caused you to become like this.”

He quirked a brow at me. “Like this?”

Oh, crap.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I just mean that you… Well… you kind of give off that brooding and deeply traumatized human.”

My eyes went wide as soon as I heard what had just come out of my mouth. I clamped my hand over my mouth and shut my eyes tightly for a second or two. When I opened them again, Amy was looking at me like I had lost my damn mind.

Yes, I clearly had.

“Okay, um…moving on. I have a few questions here…” I looked through all of my prompts and I just read the one my eyes landed on first. “Are you single?”

I did a double-take at the question to make sure I read it right but it was there in black and white. I lifted my head slowly to meet my husband’s eyes. Those crisp blue ocean eyes bore into the deepest parts of my soul leaving me feeling naked.

“Say that again for me?” he smirked.

“Are you single?” I gulped, feeling a little nervous.

He let out a low laugh, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the desk. “Fortunately, I am a taken man. My wife is quite lovely.”

“You’re married?” Amy exclaimed, her eyes wide in shock.

“Yes,” he said, not taking his eyes off me. “Now, tell me, Dove. Are you single?”

I swallowed, my words stuck in my throat.

What the hell was this man doing?