Page 84 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

“And yet,” Cassian says, setting down his glass and leaning in, “you’re still here.”

“I’m here because I like the cocktails.”

He smirks. “And the company?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a twitch of a smile on her lips. “Debatable.”

Cassian’s gaze drops to her mouth for a fraction too long. “You’re playing dangerous games, Monroe.”

She leans back, cool and composed. “So are you, Laurent. But don’t worry, I play to win.”

He raises his glass in a slow toast. “Then we have something in common.”

Their glasses clink softly, a spark crackling in the silence that follows. The jazz swells. The heat between them simmers just beneath the surface, unsaid but undeniable.

56

GRAYSON

Iwake up before Margot. Sunlight filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long golden streaks over the sleek, modern lines of my bedroom. The city sprawls below, the early morning light bouncing off glass skyscrapers, the hum of distant traffic barely audible from this high up. I turn my head, my gaze landing on Margot, her hair splayed over the pillow, her bare shoulder peeking from beneath the sheets, her breathing slow and steady. She looksat peace. And for the first time in weeks, I feel it too. I should let her sleep. Sheneedsit. But instead, I can’t resist trailing my fingers lightly along her arm, watching as her brow furrows slightly before she stirs.

Her eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep, and when they land on me, a slow smile curves her lips. “You’re staring, King.”

I smirk, brushing my fingers through her hair. “I was appreciating my victory.”

She groans, burying her face into the pillow. “Too early for gloating.”

I chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder. “It’s never too early forthat.”

She stretches, then peeks up at me, her expression softening. “We actually did it, didn’t we?”

I nod. “Yeah. We did.”

Her fingers skim my jaw. “And now what?”

Now. That’s the real question. Now that the war is over, whatcomes next?

By the timewe make it downstairs, Olivia is already waiting in the penthouse’s open-concept living space. She’s dressed for war, impeccable black suit, tablet in one hand, coffee in the other.

Margot groans as she flops onto the couch. “Please tell me you’re here with good news andnotanother crisis.”

Olivia smirks. “Depends on how you feel aboutmassive opportunities.”

I arch a brow. “Definemassive.”

She tosses the tablet onto the coffee table, and I glance down. My stomach tenses slightly at the sight of the email header:Laurent International Proposal – Joint Venture Discussion

I glance at Margot, whose expression shifts into somethingsharper. “Cassian?” she asks, reading over my shoulder.

Olivia nods. “He sent it this morning. He wants to set up a meeting.”

Margot leans forward, her elbows on her knees. “For what?”

Olivia’s lips curve slightly. “ToexpandPerfectly Matched.”

Silence. I exhale slowly, taking in the full weight of those words: Expansion. Cassiannevermakes small moves. He plays on a global scale. If he wants to backPerfectly Matched, that means he sees an opportunity big enough to be worthhistime.

Margot’s voice is careful. “What kind of expansion are we talking about?”

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