The lawyers filed out, leaving the two men alone in the heavy silence of the office. The air felt thick, charged with the aftermath of the signing.

Warren repeated his question, his voice hoarse. "What do you really want?"

Ellsworth didn't answer immediately. He stood by the desk, his fingers casually adjusting his cufflinks. The gesture was arrogant, dismissive, as if Warren's question was beneath his notice.

His gaze drifted across the desk, landing on a framed photo. It was Ashlie, smiling brightly in her graduation gown, her eyes full of hope.

Ellsworth's posture shifted, an almost imperceptible change. He didn't soften, but the harsh lines of his shoulders seemed to settle as he stared at the image. Warren couldn't decipher the look-it wasn't just coldness, but it wasn't warmth either. It was something else, something intense and possessive that made the hairs on Warren's arms stand up.

"What I want," Ellsworth said, his voice low, "doesn't depend on me. It depends on her."

Warren frowned. "Her? Ashlie?"

"Who else?" Ellsworth scoffed. "Did you think I bought half your company to be friends with an old man?"

Warren flinched but held his ground. "What are your plans for Ashlie? If this is about revenge for what happened back then-"

"Revenge?" Ellsworth cut him off with a cold laugh. "Mr. Bradford, you give me too little credit. I have no interest in childish games."

The denial confused Warren even more. If not revenge, then what?

"I married her for one reason," Ellsworth said, stepping closer to the desk. "To provide a stable family environment and a legal mother for my nephew, Keenen."

Warren stared at him, bewildered. His mind screamed that it was a lie. What a preposterous excuse! He expects me to believe he spent five billion dollars to find a nanny for his nephew? He must think I'm an absolute fool. This is a smokescreen, a ridiculous story to hide his real intentions. The real reason, the terrifying reason, is about Ashlie herself. "That's it? You could hire the best nannies in the world. Why marriage? Why Ashlie?"

"I've reviewed her file," Ellsworth said, his tone clinical. "She's clean, intelligent, and the Bradford upbringing wasn't entirely useless. She needs money, and I need a wife. It's a fair trade."

He paused, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "As for how I treat her... that will depend entirely on her performance."

Warren felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach. "Performance?"

"Whether she can make Keenen happy," Ellsworth said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Whether she can play the role of a competent aunt. Whether she can... please me. If she performs well, the Bradford Group remains safe, and you and your daughter live comfortably."

He leaned in closer, his face inches from Warren's. "If she fails... Mr. Bradford, you know as well as I do that destroying a company is much easier than saving it."

The threat was explicit. He was tying Ashlie's well-being to the survival of the entire family. She was a hostage, and her good behavior was the ransom.

Warren's heart sank. He had saved his company, but he had placed his daughter in a gilded cage with a master who held all the keys.

Ellsworth straightened up, turning away from the despair on Warren's face. He walked toward the door.

At the threshold, he stopped. He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, his tone casual. "Ashlie will be moving into the Long Island estate tonight. It's part of the agreement."

Without waiting for a response, he walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Warren collapsed into his chair. He felt like he had aged a decade in the last hour. He had sold his daughter's happiness, and the price was a prison.

He reached for the phone, his fingers hovering over the keypad. He wanted to call Ashlie, to warn her, to tell her to run.

But his hand trembled, and he slowly placed the receiver back down.

What could he say? It was done. He was the one who had pushed her into the tiger's den.

Ashlie hung up the phone, the dial tone buzzing in her ear like an insect. She tried to focus on the sketch in front of her, but the lines blurred together. Her mind was a mess of worry for her father and fear for herself.

A rustle of paper drew her attention. She looked over at Keenen. He was still sitting on the floor, his small body hunched over his drawing. He had been quiet for a long time.

She walked over and knelt beside him. The drawing was simple, drawn with the clumsy strokes of a child. It was a picture of a woman holding a little boy's hand. But the woman had no face. Just a blank oval where her features should be.

"That's a nice picture," Ashlie said softly.

Keenen pointed a crayon at the faceless woman. "That's Mommy," he said.

Ashlie's heart twisted. The longing in his voice was palpable. She wanted to hug him, to tell him it would be okay, but she didn't know how.

The buzzer at the door rang out, sharp and sudden.

Ashlie jumped, her heart leaping into her throat. She stood up quickly, her body tensing. He sent someone already.

She walked to the door on unsteady legs, preparing herself for another confrontation with one of Ellsworth's minions.

She pulled the door open.

"Chloe?" she blurted out, her eyes wide.

Her best friend, Chloe Mercer, stood in the hallway. She was dressed to kill in a leopard-print coat, holding two cups of coffee. Her usual bright smile froze on her face as she looked past Ashlie.

Chloe's eyes locked onto the small boy sitting on the floor. Her jaw dropped.

"Ashlie," Chloe said, her voice high with shock. "Who's kid is this? Since when do you babysit?"

Ashlie let out a bitter laugh. She grabbed Chloe's arm and pulled her inside, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Keep your voice down," Ashlie hissed, gesturing toward Keenen. "This is Keenen."

Chloe's eyes were sparkling with gossip. She lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. "Is he a secret love child? Faye's? No, I would know. Is he... yours?"

Ashlie couldn't help but smile at her friend's wild imagination. She shook her head and pointed toward the small kitchenette in the back.

"Let's talk in there," Ashlie said.

She went over to Keenen and handed him her tablet, played the cartoons that most ordinary children like. He took it without a word, his eyes glazing over.

In the kitchen, Chloe immediately launched into interrogation mode.

"Spill it," Chloe demanded, leaning against the counter. "You look like hell. What's going on?"

Ashlie took a deep breath. She couldn't lie to Chloe. She needed someone to talk to, someone who wasn't part of this nightmare.

"I'm married," Ashlie said slowly.

Chloe choked on her coffee. " You... you got married? When? To who? Why wasn't I invited?"

The questions came rapid-fire, each one hitting Ashlie like a pellet.

"This morning," Ashlie said, her voice tired. "I got married to save the Bradford Group."

Chloe's face went pale. She knew about the company's troubles, but she hadn't realized how desperate things had gotten.

She reached out and pulled Ashlie into a tight hug. "Oh my god, Ash. Why didn't you tell me? Who is he? Is he good to you?"

Ashlie pulled back, her eyes filling with tears she had been holding back all day. She looked at her friend, her expression a mix of exhaustion and disbelief.

"It's Ellsworth Marshall," she whispered.

Chloe frowned, the name ringing a distant bell. "Ellsworth Marshall? Wait... you don't mean the Ellsworth Marshall? The phantom of Wall Street who came out of nowhere last year? No, that's impossible. It has to be a different guy."

"No," Ashlie prompted, her voice hollow. "From school. The boy we called the 'Glass Prince'?"

Chloe's mouth fell open in a perfect 'O'. She looked like she had been slapped.

"Wait," Chloe stammered, her voice a squeak. "Our 'Glass Prince'? The one who fell over if you breathed on him? He's the billionaire who saved your company? And you married him?"

Ashlie nodded, a tear finally slipping down her cheek. She told Chloe everything-the contract, the revenge, Keenen being his nephew, the move to Long Island.

When she finished, Chloe was silent for a long moment. She just stared at Ashlie, her expression a mix of horror and awe.

"This is insane," Chloe finally said, her voice hollow. "This is like a plot from a crazy movie."