The rain hammered against the windows of Oliver’s study, matching the storm raging inside Emma’s chest. She stood before his mahogany desk, her damp hair clinging to her neck, her hands clenched at her sides. The scent of his expensive cologne mixed with the sharp tang of whiskey made her stomach churn.
"I need the money," Emma said, her voice steady, though her fingers trembled at her sides.
Oliver leaned back in his leather chair, swirling his drink with practiced ease. "Two hundred thousand, wasn’t it?" he drawled, lifting the glass to his lips. He sipped slowly, his icy blue eyes locking onto her over the rim. "For your mother’s precious treatment."
She flinched at the cruel lilt in his voice but didn’t back down. "Yes."
A slow, venomous smile spread across his face. "Fine. You’l
