The morning sun filtered through the stained glass windows of the Terrell estate foyer. Blaire dragged two heavy suitcases down the grand staircase, her muscles aching with every step. She had just tapped the confirmation button on her ride-sharing app, ensuring a yellow cab would be waiting at the curb in exactly two minutes.

She wore a thick turtleneck sweater, making sure the red marks from Kamryn and the bruise from Calhoun were completely hidden from view.

Just as her foot hit the marble floor of the lobby, the butler pulled the heavy front doors open. Kamryn Lane strode into the house, wearing a sharp silver-gray suit and bringing the morning chill with him. He had come specifically to deliver a final, brutal warning to Ewald Terrell regarding his family's pathetic entrapment schemes, but his cold eyes immediately locked onto the girl standing by the stairs.

Blaire froze. The wheels of her suitcase hit the floor with a dull thud. She stared at the intruder with wide, panicked eyes.

Kamryn saw her standing there with her luggage. One eyebrow twitched upward. A look of dark amusement crossed his face. He walked straight up to her and arrogantly announced that he was driving her to campus.

Blaire's mind went blank. She didn't know if this was a test, or if Danita had orchestrated this. Her survival instinct kicked in, and she stuttered out a firm refusal.

Kamryn ignored her words completely. He reached out to grab the handle of her suitcase. The sheer physical dominance of his presence made it impossible for her to pull away.

Right before his fingers touched the plastic handle, another large, pale hand shot out from the side and clamped down hard on the other side of the suitcase.

Calhoun appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He wore casual loungewear, but his eyes were like blocks of ice. He stared Kamryn down without an ounce of retreat.

Calhoun's voice was freezing and absolute. He told Kamryn not to bother, stating that it was his responsibility as her older brother to take her to school.

Kamryn narrowed his eyes. He instantly picked up on the possessive undertone in Calhoun's voice that crossed the line of brotherly care. A hostile, mocking smirk twisted Kamryn's lips.

The two alpha males stood in the massive foyer, locked in a silent war. The air pressure dropped so fast it felt like a physical weight on Blaire's chest. The tension crackled like live electricity.

Caught between the devil trying to buy her body and the brother with a sick obsession, Blaire felt a wave of absolute despair.

Kamryn suddenly let out a short laugh. He let go of the suitcase. He leaned in close to Blaire's ear and whispered a promise that they had plenty of time.

The words made Blaire's skin crawl. She jerked backward, straight into Calhoun's solid chest.

Calhoun immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. It was a clear display of ownership. The heat radiating from his body through her sweater felt like a snake wrapping around her spine.

A loud, obnoxious car horn blared from the street outside, shattering the dangerous silence in the room.

Blaire looked past the open doors. A bright yellow New York taxi was idling by the curb. The driver was leaning out the window, smoking a cigarette.

The desperate need to survive overpowered her fear. Blaire violently shoved herself out of Calhoun's grip. She yelled that her cab was here and she didn't need either of them.

Before the men could react, adrenaline flooded her veins. She grabbed the smaller suitcase, abandoned the large one, and sprinted out the front door like a hunted animal.

Kamryn and Calhoun were stunned for a fraction of a second. By the time they reached the doorway, Blaire was already at the cab.

She yanked the back door open, threw her bag onto the seat, and dove in after it. She screamed at the driver to step on the gas.

Sal Petrovic, the driver, jumped at her screaming. He took one look at the two terrifying men standing on the mansion steps and slammed his foot on the accelerator.

The tires screeched against the asphalt. The cab shot forward like a bullet.

Blaire collapsed against the vinyl backseat. She looked through the rear window. Kamryn and Calhoun stood side by side, growing smaller in the distance.

Kamryn's face was black with rage. He kicked a stone pillar violently. Calhoun stood perfectly still, his eyes locked onto the back of the cab like a sniper.

Once they turned the corner, Blaire realized her clothes were soaked with cold sweat. She took deep, greedy breaths of the stale air inside the cab.

Sal looked at her in the rearview mirror. He handed her a napkin and used his thick Brooklyn accent to joke about her running away from a wedding.

Blaire took the napkin and wiped her forehead. She didn't say a word. She just stared out the window at the blurry city streets. She only had one suitcase, and she had no idea what her future held, but for this brief moment, she was free.

The yellow cab pulled up to the red brick dormitory of the arts college. Blaire paid the fare, grabbed her single suitcase, and walked into the loud, chaotic lobby.

She took the elevator to the third floor and unlocked room 302. A light, comforting scent of citrus filled the air, immediately easing the tight knot in her chest.

Her roommate, Phoebe Adler, was barefoot on a yoga mat. When she saw Blaire, she jumped up and threw her arms around her in a massive hug.

The genuine warmth melted the last of Blaire's defenses. She hugged Phoebe back, a real, exhausted smile touching her lips.

Blaire opened her suitcase and started unpacking. When she pulled out the black leather boots she wore at the club, her hands shook. She quickly shoved them into the darkest corner of her closet.

Phoebe noticed the single bag. She tilted her head and asked why the daughter of the wealthy Terrell family packed so light.

Blaire's fingers stiffened. She turned around and delivered her rehearsed lie. She smiled and said she wanted to try minimalism and didn't want to be weighed down by stuff.

Phoebe bought it completely. She handed Blaire a cold soda and casually asked why Blaire was always disappearing on the weekends.

Blaire looked down at the condensation on the can. She lied again, saying she was desperately saving money for a study abroad program in Paris.

To sell the story, she sighed heavily. She complained that the Terrell family had strict rules and demanded she become financially independent before they let her go abroad.

Phoebe was outraged on her behalf. She ranted about the twisted rules of rich families and promised to help Blaire find a good campus job.

Looking at Phoebe's innocent face, a heavy wave of guilt washed over Blaire. But she knew she could never tell anyone the truth about the surrogacy and the heart harvesting. It was too dangerous.

The scene shifted to the Terrell estate study. Danita screamed in rage, sweeping a delicate bone china teacup off the desk. It shattered against the floor.

Her shrill voice echoed off the walls. She yelled at Clotilda, complaining that Blaire running away had completely ruined her chances to bond with Kamryn.

Clotilda sat behind the massive oak desk. She watched her daughter throw a tantrum with cold, dead eyes. When Danita finally stopped to breathe, Clotilda handed her a tissue.

Clotilda's voice was a low, dangerous hiss. She warned Danita to control her temper, reminding her that her failing heart couldn't handle the stress. She told her not to die before the transplant.

The word "transplant" made Danita freeze. The fear of death and the desperate greed for life flashed in her eyes.

Clotilda walked around the desk and stroked Danita's hair. She whispered like a snake, assuring her that Blaire could not run far.

Clotilda sneered. She explained her plan. "I already made a phone call to Eleonora Finch at the arts academy this morning," she stated, swirling her wine. "I cut off her credit cards, and now I've severed her academic lifelines." She promised Danita that by systematically destroying every legitimate way Blaire had to make money, she would force Blaire to come crawling back to the estate like a starving dog.

Danita's angry face slowly twisted into a sick, triumphant smile. She could already picture Blaire begging on her knees.

Back in the dorm, it was late at night. Phoebe was fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady.

Blaire sat at her small desk. The light from her desk lamp cast long shadows. She was counting the cash she had made at Club Velvet.

The bills smelled like smoke and cheap perfume. They were dirty, but they were the only thing keeping her safe right now.

She carefully hid the stack of cash inside a false bottom of an old shoebox, then shoved the box deep under her bed.

She opened her banking app on her phone. Seeing the low balance made her stomach drop.

The club money was fast, but the risk of running into Kamryn or Calhoun again was too high. She needed a massive amount of clean money, and she needed it fast.

Her eyes landed on a thick dance textbook on her desk. An idea sparked in her mind.

She opened the book. Tucked inside was a flyer for the National Youth Dance Competition. The grand prize was a staggering five hundred thousand dollars.

If she won, she could pay back the Terrell family's "raising fees" and buy a one way ticket out of the country.

Blaire traced the numbers on the flyer with her fingertip. Her eyes hardened with absolute resolve. This was her only way out. She had to win.