The second Hayden's arms wrapped around him, Alois's body turned into a block of solid ice.

His arms hung stiffly at his sides. His large hands twitched, fighting the violent, instinctual urge to wrap around her waist and pull her closer.

Barnett's eyes bulged. The expensive cigar slipped from his fingers and clattered against the edge of the crystal ashtray. He muttered a harsh curse under his breath.

Alois sucked in a sharp breath. His brows pulled together into a deep, dark scowl.

He brought his hands up and grabbed Hayden's wrists, trying to pry her arms off his neck.

"Let go," he ordered. His voice was a flat, freezing command. "Stop acting crazy."

Hayden felt the hard pressure of his fingers trying to push her away.

Her chest tightened painfully. She panicked and locked her arms even tighter around him.

Her bleeding left wrist dragged across the lapel of his gray suit, leaving a thick, dark red smear of blood against the expensive fabric.

She lifted her face. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks soaked with tears.

"I was joking," she cried out, her voice shaking so hard her teeth rattled. "I was just joking."

The sheer absurdity of that excuse sucked all the oxygen out of the room.

Alois stopped trying to push her away.

He looked down at her. His dark eyes narrowed into a dangerous, calculating stare, dissecting every inch of her face.

He stared at her trembling, bloodless lips. He searched her red eyes for the lie, waiting for the trap to spring.

Hayden met his heavy, oppressive gaze. She shook her head frantically.

"I'm not marrying him," she gasped out, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "I'd rather die than marry Erick."

The muscle in Alois's jaw ticked. His breathing hitched, the steady rhythm breaking for a fraction of a second.

He let out a low, mocking scoff.

"Are you really putting on a show this pathetic just to get your hands on the trust fund?" he demanded.

Hayden shook her head harder. She reached up and grabbed his face, her small hands pressing against his hard, cold cheeks.

"Don't leave me," she begged, her voice cracking into a pathetic whine. "Take me home. Please."

Home.

That single word struck the most violently guarded, hidden nerve in Alois's chest.

The dark hostility in his eyes fractured. A deep, bottomless undercurrent of something entirely different bled into his gaze.

Alois didn't say a word.

He suddenly bent his knees. He slid one thick arm under the back of her knees and the other around her back.

Barnett sucked in a sharp breath as Alois lifted Hayden straight off the ground, cradling her against his chest.

The sudden loss of gravity made Hayden gasp. She instinctively turned her face and pressed her ear flat against the hard wall of his chest.

Beneath the layers of his suit, she heard the heavy, rapid thud of his heartbeat. It was beating far too fast.

Alois turned his head. He swept a freezing, warning glare over the bodyguards and Barnett.

"Lock down this entire floor," Alois ordered his assistant, who was standing frozen by the door. "Not a single word of tonight leaves this room. Not even a fly gets out."

The assistant immediately dropped his head. "Yes, Mr. Wyatt." He pulled out his phone and started dialing the club's head of security.

Alois didn't look back. He carried Hayden with long, heavy strides toward the thick, carved wooden doors of the VIP room.

A bodyguard rushed forward and pulled the doors open.

The harsh, fluorescent light of the hallway spilled in.

The sudden brightness stabbed Hayden's eyes. She squeezed them shut and buried her face deeper into Alois's chest, hiding from the light.

Alois tightened his grip on her. He shifted his body, using his broad shoulders to cast a shadow over her face, completely shielding her from the glare.

He walked straight into his private elevator.

The heavy steel doors slid shut, completely cutting off Barnett's suspicious, glaring eyes.

The elevator chimed. The doors slid open to the underground, climate-controlled parking garage.

A blast of cold air hit them.

Alois carried Hayden quickly across the polished concrete floor toward the black, bulletproof Maybach parked in his reserved spot.

His driver, Rudy Kowalski, practically jumped out of the driver's seat and yanked the heavy rear door open.

Before Alois could step inside, the adjacent elevator dinged.

Barnett stormed out, his leather shoes slapping loudly against the concrete.

"Alois!" Barnett yelled, his face red with frustration.

Alois stopped walking. He didn't turn around. He just carefully lowered Hayden onto the soft leather seat of the Maybach.

The second Hayden's legs touched the seat, she grabbed the edge of the doorframe. Her knuckles turned white as she looked nervously past Alois at Barnett.

Barnett marched right up to the car. He pointed a stiff finger at Hayden.

"Are you out of your mind?" Barnett demanded, staring at Alois. "You actually believe this bullshit?"

Barnett lowered his voice, but the venom in it was thick. "She is a snake. You can't domesticate a snake. Ten minutes ago she was ready to slit her own wrists to ruin you, and now she's playing the good girl?"

Barnett leaned closer. "This is a new trick. Erick taught her this. She's just trying to steal your corporate secrets to please that pathetic, broke loser!"

Hayden sat frozen in the backseat.

Hearing those words felt like a physical blow to her stomach. The pain radiated through her chest because she knew Barnett was right. In her past life, she had been exactly that vile.

She didn't snap back at him. She didn't scream.

She just lowered her head. Huge, heavy tears welled up and dropped onto the back of her hands.

Alois shifted his stance. He moved his massive body directly in front of the open door, completely blocking Barnett's view of Hayden.

He stared at his oldest friend. His eyes were as cold as a morgue.

"Watch your mouth, Barnett," Alois said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, vibrating low. "She is still under Wyatt protection."

Barnett flinched, physically stepping back from the sheer violence in Alois's eyes. He gritted his teeth. "She's going to get you killed one day."

Alois calmly reached up and adjusted his right cufflink.

"That's my problem," Alois said flatly. "Not yours."

He turned his back on Barnett, stepped into the Maybach, and slammed the heavy door shut.

The loud thud instantly cut off the echoing noise of the garage. The inside of the car was suffocatingly quiet.

Alois leaned his head back against the headrest. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his chest rising and falling heavily.

In the driver's seat, Rudy kept his eyes glued to the rearview mirror. He didn't dare start the engine.

"Mercer Hospital," Alois ordered, his eyes still closed. "Drive fast."

The Maybach's engine roared to life. The heavy car glided smoothly out of the underground garage.

The dim blue ambient lighting clicked on, casting sharp, cold shadows across the hard lines of Alois's profile.

Hayden curled her legs up on the opposite side of the spacious backseat. She kept her head down, but her eyes darted sideways, watching the man beside her.

She saw his right hand resting on his thigh. It was curled into a tight fist. The knuckles were completely white.

She slowly uncurled her legs. She tried to slide across the smooth leather to get closer to him.

The movement pulled the skin on her left wrist.

A sharp, tearing pain shot up her arm. She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

The tiny hiss of pain was magnified in the silent car.

Alois's eyes snapped open.

His gaze locked onto her like a predator. He stared straight at her left wrist. The blood was still slowly dripping from the cut.

He reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and ripped out his silk pocket square.

He leaned across the wide center console, his large hand snapping out to grab her wrist in an iron grip.

The blinding surgical lights in the top-floor VIP suite of Mercer Hospital burned Hayden's eyes.

The doctor held a pair of tweezers, carefully swabbing the deep, jagged cut on her left wrist with iodine.

The chemical burn of the antiseptic hitting raw flesh made Hayden's stomach roll. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. Her entire body trembled.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of her own blood. She refused to make a single sound. She was terrified of angering the man standing in the corner.

Alois stood near the heavy wooden door. His arms were crossed over his chest. He stayed in the shadows, his dark eyes fixed on the bloody mess of her arm.

The doctor finished the last stitch and snipped the black thread. He let out a long breath.

"You're lucky it missed the main vein," the doctor said, tossing the bloody gauze into a metal bin. "Keep it completely dry for at least a week. And absolutely avoid any severe emotional fluctuations or physical exertion that could spike her blood pressure and tear the sutures wide open again."

Alois gave a single, stiff nod.

"Get out," Alois said. His voice had zero inflection.

The doctor and the two nurses felt the crushing pressure in the room. They didn't say a word. They quickly pushed the metal cart out into the hallway.

The heavy door clicked shut. The lock engaged with a loud, metallic thud.

They were alone.

Alois pushed off the wall. His leather shoes clicked against the polished linoleum floor. Each step was slow, deliberate, and heavy with threat.

He stopped at the foot of her hospital bed. He gripped the metal railing with both hands, leaning his weight forward as he stared down at her pale face.

The smell of bleach and fresh blood hung in the air, making it hard to breathe.

"The pity play is over," Alois said, his lips curling into a cruel sneer. "Let's talk terms."

Hayden froze. She looked up at him, her chest tight with confusion.

"What exactly does Erick want this time?" Alois demanded, his voice rising in volume. "The development rights for the harbor plot? Or five percent dry shares in the group?"

Hearing Erick's name made Hayden's throat close up. A violent wave of nausea hit her stomach.

She scrambled to sit up straight, desperate to explain. The sudden movement yanked her freshly stitched wrist.

She let out a sharp gasp of pain.

Alois's eyes flickered, his fingers tightening on the metal rail, but he didn't move an inch to help her. He kept his defensive posture.

Hayden ignored the pain. She looked straight into Alois's cold eyes. Her own eyes were red and wet.

"I don't want anything," she said, her voice shaking but completely clear.

She took a deep, ragged breath. "I will say it again. I am absolutely not marrying Erick."

Alois narrowed his eyes. He looked at her like she was a cheap, counterfeit painting he was trying to appraise.

He suddenly let go of the rail. He walked around the side of the bed and leaned over her.

His large hand came up, not to touch her, but to hover inches from her face. His fingers didn't make contact, yet she felt the menacing heat radiating from them. He tilted her chin up with the sheer force of his proximity. His face was mere inches from hers. She could feel the heat of his harsh breaths hitting her skin.

The violent madness Alois had been suppressing all night finally cracked through his calm facade.

"Hayden," he whispered, his voice dropping to a terrifying, gravelly pitch. "Do you have any idea what will happen to you if you're lying to me?"

Hayden didn't try to pull away. She stared right back into his dark, obsessive eyes.

A single tear slipped from her eye and dropped onto the back of his hand.

"If I ever go back to him," Hayden said softly, her voice filled with absolute conviction, "I give you the right to take my freedom. To ruin me completely."

The words hit Alois like a physical blow to the chest.

His pupils dilated rapidly. His breathing completely stopped.

He jerked his hand back as if her skin had burned him. He stood up straight, his chest heaving as he turned his back to her, desperately trying to hide the violent, possessive thrill that had just ripped through his blood.