Sunlight filtered through sheer curtains as Amara stirred, her head throbbing and her body wrapped in unfamiliar silk sheets. Her throat was dry, and her memories fogged like a broken mirror.
Last night.
The hotel.
The contract.
The man.
Her eyes snapped open.
She sat up—and froze.
She wasn't alone.
Across the room, Liam stood by the window, fully dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, sipping coffee like it was just another day in his empire.
"You're awake," he said without turning around.
Amara clutched the blanket to her chest, heart racing. "What happened last night?"
"You upheld your end of the deal," he replied calmly. "Now I'm upholding mine."
She blinked. "The money?"
"Already paid to the hospital by midnight," he said. "Your mother will have the surgery this morning."
A rush of relief flooded her—briefly.
But it was crushed by his next words.
"And as of 3:02 AM this morning, we are legally married."
Her breath caught. "What?!"
Liam finally turned to face her, expression unreadable. "It was part of the revised contract."
"What revised—" Her voice broke off as she grabbed the papers on the bedside table. Not the one she signed last night.
This one had her signature… and a second page she hadn't seen.
Marriage License. Witnessed. Stamped.
"You… you tricked me!" she gasped.
"I made you an offer. You signed it. I don't do anything illegal, Miss Sloane."
"Mrs. Rochester," he corrected smoothly, placing a diamond-studded ring on the nightstand.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head, tears forming. "This wasn't part of the plan."
He stepped closer, eyes cold but strangely… pained?
"You needed money. I needed a wife. It's a fair exchange."
"Why?" she choked. "Why would a billionaire marry a stranger?"
He looked away.
"That's none of your concern. Just know this: you'll live with me. Publicly, we're husband and wife. Privately… stay out of my way."
Her voice cracked. "And if I refuse?"
He leaned in slightly, tone like frost. "Then your mother's surgery gets 'delayed.' I still control the hospital's board."
Silence. Her entire world tilted beneath her.
She was owned.
Trapped.
But as Liam turned to leave, she caught something in his eyes—a flicker of regret, quickly buried.
He wasn't just hiding why he married her.
He was hiding something else… something dangerous.
Amara sat motionless, her breath caught between fury and disbelief. The papers trembled in her hands as the weight of what just happened settled in her chest like a stone.
Married.
To a man she barely knew.
To a man who had just bartered her future like a business transaction.
Her lips parted, but no words came. Only questions — questions that clawed at her throat but died on her tongue.
Liam turned his back to her and adjusted the cuffs of his suit, as if he hadn't just detonated her world.
"I'll have someone bring you appropriate clothes," he said. "You'll be moved into my estate by noon. Be ready."
She found her voice, raw and low. "You think you can control everything, don't you?"
He paused at the door, but didn't look back.
"I don't think," he said coldly. "I know."
And then he was gone.
The door clicked shut, and she was alone again—surrounded by luxury, drowning in betrayal.
Later that morning, she stood outside the private hospital ward, gripping the cold steel railing. Through the glass, she could see her mother resting peacefully, machines humming softly beside the bed. The surgery had gone well.
That should've brought her peace.
But all she could feel was the invisible ring on her finger, the weight of it heavier than any diamond could ever be.
Behind her, someone cleared their throat.
She turned sharply.
It was Liam's assistant—a sharp-eyed woman in her mid-thirties, dressed in navy blue and heels that clicked too precisely.
"Mrs. Rochester," she said, the name like poison in Amara's ears. "Your car is waiting. Mr. Rochester instructed me to take you home."
Amara's jaw tightened. "Don't call me that."
The woman blinked. "I'm sorry, ma'am. But legally… that is who you are now."
Amara looked through the glass once more. Her mother's face was calm, free of pain.
She exhaled shakily, and followed.