The Price of a Smile

Arthur’s briefcase snapped shut with a hollow, panicked click.

""This is an aggressive overreaction, Hayes,"" Arthur stammered, all his polished corporate charm evaporating as he realized the trap he had walked into. ""We can talk about the terms—""

""There are no terms,"" Donovan interrupted, his voice like grinding ice. ""You came into my home to threaten the mother of my child using my name as currency. That was your first mistake.""

""Donovan, wait,"" Maeve said softly, standing up and laying a hand gently on his arm.

Donovan looked down at her, the dark storm in his eyes instantly clearing into a deep, steady calm at her touch.

""Let him go,"" Maeve said, her voice firm and clear. ""Not because of his threats, and not because of his money. But because we don't need to play his game to win.""

Arthur stared at Maeve in utter disbelief, as if she were speaking a foreign language.

""You're letting me walk away?"" Arthur asked, clutching his briefcase to his chest.

""You're walking out of my house right now,"" Donovan said, stepping aside to clear the path to the double doors. ""And by tomorrow morning, your bank loans will be called in full unless you publicly apologize to Ms. Parker and sign an agreement never to contact her or her family again.""

Arthur didn't hesitate.

He grabbed his briefcase, turned on his heel, and practically sprinted out of the parlor, the sound of his hurried footsteps echoing down the grand hallway until the heavy front doors slammed shut.

Maeve let out a long, shaky breath, leaning her head against Donovan’s shoulder.

""Was that too lenient?"" Donovan murmured into her hair, wrapping his arms securely around her.

""It was perfect,"" Maeve whispered, smiling against the fabric of his shirt.