The Maybach pulled into the underground garage of the Wall Industries Private Medical Center. The entire floor was empty. The security team had cleared the area.

Hollis got out. He reached into the car, grabbed Carole's arm, and pulled her out.

Carole stumbled. Her twisted ankle gave out, and a sharp pain shot up her leg.

Hollis's entire body went rigid. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

He cursed under his breath. He bent down, scooped her up into his arms again, and carried her toward the private elevator.

Carole pushed her elbows against his chest. Her elbow hit the bruise on her own ribs.

Both of them groaned at the exact same time.

"Stop moving," Hollis ordered, his jaw tight. "Unless you want to kill us both."

The elevator doors opened on the top floor. A team of doctors and nurses stood in the hallway. They looked at Hollis's dark expression and stepped back nervously.

Hollis carried Carole into the VIP suite and dropped her onto the examination bed.

"Check her head," Hollis told the lead doctor. "And fix her ankle."

The doctor stepped forward. He reached out and gently pressed his fingers against the bump on Carole's forehead.

Carole flinched.

Hollis slammed his fist into the wall. The drywall cracked.

The doctor jumped back, his hands shaking.

"Be gentle," Hollis growled, rubbing his own forehead.

Carole watched him. A strange sense of power washed over her fear. This terrifying man was at her mercy. Her pain was his weakness.

The doctor finished the exam quickly. "It is just a mild concussion and a sprain, Mr. Wall. She needs to rest here tonight."

Hollis waved his hand. The medical team rushed out of the room and closed the door.

Hollis sat down in the chair next to the bed. He stared at her like a predator watching its prey.

Carole pulled the thin hospital blanket up to her chin. "What do you want from me? Ransom?"

Hollis let out a dry laugh. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a folded document, and tossed it onto her lap.

Carole picked it up. Her eyes scanned the thick paper. It was a prenuptial agreement. The groom's name was Hollis Wall.

She looked up, her heart pounding. "You are insane."

Hollis stood up. He looked down at her. "It is the most efficient way to solve our problem."

Carole crumpled the paper and threw it at his chest. "I am not marrying a kidnapper."

Hollis caught the paper. His eyes darkened. He leaned over the bed, planting his hands on either side of her hips, trapping her.

His warm breath hit her face. "Sign it. Or I will crush the Pennington family and buy your adoptive parents' debt by morning."

Carole bit her inner cheek. She glared up at him, refusing to let the tears fall.

Hollis straightened up. He turned around and walked to the door.

"You are not leaving this room tonight," Hollis said.

The heavy door slammed shut. A loud click echoed in the room as the lock engaged.

Carole threw the blanket off. She ran to the door and pulled the handle. It was completely locked.

She slid down the wooden door and sat on the cold floor. She looked at the crumpled marriage agreement.

Through the massive glass window, the lights of Manhattan shined brightly. She was in the most expensive cage in the city.

She picked up the contract. She tore it in half, then tore it again, ripping it into tiny shreds. She threw the pieces into the trash can. She would never give in.

Outside in the hallway, Hollis leaned against the wall. He rubbed his thumb over his knuckles, waiting for the dull ache in his head to fade.

The morning sun hit Carole's eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed. She had not slept for a single minute.

A nurse brought in a tray of food. Carole opened her mouth to ask for a phone, but two massive guards stepped into the doorway, blocking her view. The nurse set the tray down and left quickly.

Carole pushed the tray away. Her stomach cramped violently from hunger.

Three floors down, Hollis gripped the edge of his desk. A sharp pain stabbed his stomach.

The door to the VIP room flew open. Hollis walked in. He looked at the torn pieces of paper in the trash can. His face turned to stone.

He walked to the bed. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"Do you think tearing up a piece of paper changes anything?" Hollis asked.

"Kill me," Carole spat out. "That is the only way I will sign."

Hollis let go of her chin. He pulled his phone from his pocket. He tapped the screen and held it in front of her face.

A video started playing. It was a pool party at a mansion. The timestamp was from three years ago.

Carole's breath stopped. The memory flooded her brain. She had fallen into the deep end. She could not swim. She remembered the water filling her lungs, the darkness closing in, and then someone diving in after her.

"I was there," Hollis said, his voice dropping an octave. "You panicked. You dragged me down to the bottom. We both almost died."

Carole looked at his face. She finally recognized the dark shape of his eyes from that night.

"Because of a drowning accident?" Carole asked, her voice shaking.

"Extreme hypoxia," Hollis said. "Our nervous systems rewired. We are linked."

"That is impossible," Carole said, shaking her head. "That is science fiction."

Hollis stared at her. He reached over to the medical tray on the table. He picked up a silver scalpel.

He rolled up his left sleeve.

"Stop!" Carole yelled.

Hollis pressed the blade into his forearm and sliced downward. Blood welled up instantly, dripping onto the white floor.

Carole screamed. A burning, slicing agony ripped across her left forearm. She grabbed her arm, tears streaming down her face.

There was no cut on her skin. But the pain was real. It burned like fire.

She collapsed onto her knees, clutching her arm. "Why? Why me?"

Hollis dropped the scalpel. He knelt in front of her. He reached out with his bloody hand and lifted her chin.

"We are tied together," Hollis said softly, but his eyes were merciless. "You will live where I can see you. You will eat what I tell you. You will not get hurt."

"I will never marry you," Carole cried.

Hollis stood up. He grabbed her uninjured arm and pulled her to her feet. He dragged her out of the room.

They walked down the hall and pushed through the double doors to the roof. A black helicopter sat on the helipad, its blades spinning loudly.

The wind whipped Carole's hair across her face. She grabbed the door frame, trying to fight him. Hollis easily peeled her fingers off the metal.

He shoved her into the leather seat of the helicopter and climbed in next to her. The door slid shut.

The helicopter lifted off the roof. The city of Manhattan shrank below them.

Hollis pulled a fresh copy of the marriage agreement from his jacket. He dropped it on her lap.

"Sign it when we land at Blackwater Bay," Hollis said over the headset.

Carole stared at the words Blackwater Bay. It was his private fortress. She closed her eyes, the phantom pain in her arm still burning.

The helicopter touched down on the massive green lawn of Blackwater Bay Estate. The house looked like a modern castle of glass and black stone.

Hollis grabbed Carole's arm and pulled her out of the cabin.

Mr. Finch, the head butler, stood by the front doors with a line of staff. He looked at Carole's messy clothes and bare feet, but his face remained perfectly blank.

"Finch," Hollis said, walking past him. "Redo the staff schedule. She does not leave this house. No one opens her door without my order."

Carole was dragged up the grand spiral staircase. Hollis pushed her into a massive bedroom suite.

The room was beautiful, but heavy iron bars covered the floor-to-ceiling windows. Two guards stood in the hallway.

Hollis let go of her arm. "This is your world now. Do not try to leave."

Carole lunged at him, swinging her fists. Hollis stepped to the side. She tripped over the thick rug and fell hard onto the floor.

Hollis looked down at her. He turned around and walked out. The heavy door clicked shut. The deadbolt locked.

Carole scrambled to her feet. She hit the wooden door with her fists. "Let me out! You psycho!"

No one answered.

She turned around and leaned against the door. A fresh copy of the marriage agreement sat perfectly centered on the coffee table.

She walked over, picked it up, and ripped it into pieces.

Hours passed. The sun went down. A maid unlocked the door, pushed a cart of hot food inside, and left quickly.

Carole looked at the roasted chicken and vegetables. She pushed the tray off the table. The plates shattered on the floor. She sat on the bed and crossed her arms.

In his study on the other side of the house, Hollis was reading a report. Suddenly, a violent cramp twisted his stomach. The report slipped from his numb fingers, and he instinctively pressed his forearm hard against his abdomen, his breath catching in his throat as a wave of severe, physical nausea washed over him.

He stood up, his chair crashing to the floor. He marched out of the study and up the stairs.

He kicked Carole's door open. The wood splintered.

Carole jumped back on the bed. Hollis stormed into the room. His face was dark red with anger.

He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and dragged her off the bed. He pushed her down into the chair next to the ruined food.

"Eat," Hollis ordered, pointing at a piece of bread that had survived the crash. "Or I will shove it down your throat myself."

Carole looked up at him. His eyes were wild. He was not just angry; he was in physical pain. The fear finally broke through her stubbornness.

Hollis stepped back, crossing his arms. He watched her like a guard dog.

Carole's hands shook. She picked up the bread and took a small bite. It tasted like ash in her mouth.

Hollis rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. His breathing slowed down as the hunger pain faded from his stomach.

"If you don't hurt yourself, I won't bother you," Hollis said, his voice tight. "You are doing this to yourself."

Carole swallowed the bread. A single tear rolled down her cheek and dropped onto her lap.

Hollis looked at the tear. He clenched his jaw, turned around, and walked out. He did not lock the door this time, but the shadows of the guards remained in the hall.

Carole finished the bread. She stood up and started walking around the room. She checked the corners of the ceiling.

Three small cameras were hidden in the molding. He was watching everything.

She walked into the bathroom and locked the door. There were no cameras here.

She looked at her pale face in the mirror. She bit the inside of her cheek. She was not going to die in this house. She started opening the drawers, looking for anything she could use.