Avery doesn't know what to say. Evan stares at her over his cup of coffee—his expression calm and calculating. She bites her lip and looks at her father. His eyes are wide, and there's a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. He's twisting the linen napkin around and around in his hand.

"Answer his question," Anthony hisses.

"I'm asking you because I don't understand your decision at all," Avery says. "You just admitted that the Peters Company isn't doing so well—why are you so determined to buy it? What do you want, Evan?"

Evan laughs low in his throat. Avery tries to glare at him, but he's too busy typing something on his phone to notice. His long, white fingers slide back and forth across the glass screen, and Avery shivers; she can't help but remember how they felt on her skin.

"You know exactly what I want," Evan says with a slow, meaningful look.

His eyes linger on her lips and then drop down to her chest. He stares at her as if she's naked, and she feels blood rush to her face. She glances down at her dress to check if it's see-through in the bright restaurant light, but it's not. She clenches her hands into fists under the table.

These men are shameless, she thinks. First, Andrew tries to use Charles' life as a bargaining chip, and now Evan is using my family's business to threaten me. They want to force me to do what they want—to sleep with them, to tell them I love them— but none of them care about what I want. It's disgusting.

"I swear, Evan, I have no idea what you want," she says sweetly. "Perhaps you can remind me?"

Evan raises his eyebrows and asks, "Did you sleep well last night?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," she says, hoping to make him jealous. "The suite I'm in is very comfortable—the bed is large but cozy."

Evan frowns and slams his coffee cup onto the table. The veiled reference to her shared suite with Andrew is enough to infuriate him. Anthony glances between her and Evan, his face wrinkled with confusion.

"I heard Andrew had a heart attack last night," Evan says. "There are other rumors about a groin injury too. What do you know about that, Avery?"

She tries to hide her surprise, but she's sure Evan sees it. It makes sense that he knows, she thinks. People can be bought—I'm sure Evan has spies among Andrew's servants and bodyguards.

"Why would you want to put your sexual satisfaction in danger?" Evan asks.

She glances sideways at her father and glares at Evan. She can't believe he's talking about this in front of her dad. She shakes her head warningly but doubts that Evan will back down.

"What do you know about other people's sex lives?" she asks.

"Apparently, very little," Evan says. "But you seem to know a lot. So why don't you explain it to me?"

Evan glances down at his phone, and her mind races. She knows Evan wants to get her back, but there's no way she can leave Andrew—Charles' life depends on her promise to stay with Andrew for six months. Of course, Evan could probably take the heart by force, but that would start a war between the Howel's and the Cliffords. If Evan killed Andrew, the Cliffords wouldn't rest until he was dead.

Besides, it would be cruel to deprive Andrew of the last six months of his life, she thinks. The thought makes her gasp with horror. Have I started to sympathize with Andrew? She wonders. Either way, it doesn't matter—I made the deal, and there's no way to break it now. In six months, I can save Charles' life and complete Andrew's dying wish. I can't afford to have regrets.

"Well, I'm still waiting for that explanation," Evan says.

"That's a personal topic, and it's not appropriate to talk about," she says. "Anyway, I can tell you're not serious about buying our company. Now, if you'll excuse us, I think you've wasted enough of our time."

She stands and taps her father on the shoulder. He looks up at her with confusion but refuses to stand. She tugs his shoulder again, but he shakes his head.

"Come on, Dad," she says. "It's time to go. Evan clearly hasn't thought this decision through. There's no point in staying to talk to him."

"What are you talking about?" Anthony asks. "Mr. Howel hasn't even agreed to anything. We can't leave until we work this out."

"Seriously, Dad, it's time to go," she says. "Trust me, and I'll work this out on my own."

Anthony jerks his shoulder away from her touch. She reaches out to touch him again, but he swats her hand away. She feels herself blush with shame and anger—her own father is shunning her in public now.

A vein in Anthony's forehead starts to throb, and he says, "Trust you to work it out? Do you think I'm a fool? How can you possibly do anything on your own? Without Evan, you're nothing."

"Yes, please stay and talk," Evan says, his voice smooth and persuasive.

She bites her tongue and grabs her purse off the back of the chair. She can't bear to spend another second at the same table as them—both of them seem eager to embarrass her. Besides, she's afraid of spending time around Evan. I'm weak, she thinks. If I spend too much time around him, I might make another mistake. I can't afford to let anything like last night ever happen again.

"I know you don't believe me, dad, but trust me, Evan isn't interested in negotiating with you," she says. "Spare yourself the frustration and just walk away now."

"I know this isn't how I raised you—Peters aren't quitters," Anthony says, his voice thick with disappointment. "Anyway, it's clear you don't care about helping this family or me. Go away, and I'll handle this myself."

Evan smirks at her as she turns to leave. She feels his eyes burning into her back as she crosses the room and sits at Andrew's table. It takes everything she has to avoid looking over at him as she picks at her breakfast.

After a while, she calls the waiter over and asks him to prepare every breakfast option for Andrew. Within a few minutes, several waiters bustle out of the kitchen carrying dozens of paper bags filled with tin containers. The bodyguards take the food, and Avery rises to leave.

As she passes Evan's table, she nods cooly at her father. She wants to stop and apologize for her impatience. She wants to ask him what room he's staying in and invite him to dinner, but he stares past her as if she isn't there at all. She sighs and continues out to the elevators.

The private elevator to the fifth floor takes several minutes to arrive. When it does, Avery steps forward without looking to see if anyone else is on the elevator. A pale, skinny forearm blocks her way. She looks up and finds herself face to face with Jessica.

Jessica raises her chin and steps closer to Avery. Avery steps to the right, but Jessica leans and blocks her. Avery steps to the left, and Jessica mirrors her move. They go back and forth until Avery gives up.

"Do you mind?" she asks Jessica.

"I mind a lot," Jessica snaps. "I know you had something to do with Andrew's attack, and I'm warning you to keep your hands off him."

Avery laughs in her face and says, "What exactly do you think I'd do? Your brother is a capable man—he doesn't need his baby sister running around, making empty threats."