KIAH

Kiah did not sleep.

She sat at her kitchen table until sunrise, turning Arthur Lucas's business card over in her hands. The sharp corners bit into her fingers. She kept expecting it to catch fire, to prove it was all some fever dream.

The apartment was small. One bedroom. Peeling paint. A window that overlooked a brick wall. It was all she could afford after paying Ethan's legal fees.

Her phone buzzed against the table.

A text from an unknown number lit up the screen.

"Do not sign anything tomorrow."

Kiah's blood went cold. She stared at the message, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her fingers hovered over the screen, ready to reply, when another text came through.

"You are in danger." Then nothing. Just the glow of the screen in the darkness.

Kiah tried calling the number. It went straight to a disconnected tone.

She set the phone down with shaking hands.

Someone knew about the meeting with Arthur. Someone knew what she was about to do.

And they wanted her to stop.

The question was why.

At eight fifty-five, Kiah stood outside Lucas Holdings, a glass tower that seemed to pierce the sky itself.

She wore the only professional dress she owned. Black. Simple. It felt like armor, but it was not enough to stop her hands from trembling.

Security escorted her to the top floor without a word.

The elevator doors opened into a reception area that looked like it cost more than her entire life. White marble. Modern art. A receptionist who looked like she belonged on a runway.

"Miss Taylor." The woman's smile was polite and empty. "Mr. Lucas is expecting you."

Kiah followed her down a hallway lined with floor-to-ceiling windows. At the end was a set of double doors made of dark wood.

The receptionist knocked once and opened them.

Arthur sat behind a massive desk, his attention fixed on a tablet. He did not look up when she entered.

"Sit."

Kiah bristled at the command but forced herself to move. She sat in the leather chair across from him and waited.

Arthur set the tablet down and finally met her gaze.

He looked exactly as he had the night before. Controlled. Untouchable. Dangerous.

But there was something different in his eyes now. Something sharper.

"Did you sleep?" he asked.

"No."

"Good. Then you will be awake enough to read every word of this before you sign it." Arthur slid a thick document across the desk. 

Kiah pulled the contract toward her. It was at least fifty pages.

"You have thirty minutes," Arthur said. "My lawyer is waiting in the next room if you have questions."

"Thirty minutes?" Kiah looked up at him. "This is my life you are asking me to sign away."

"Then read faster."

The coldness in his voice made her want to walk out.

But she thought of Ethan. Of the message on her phone. Of the fact that she had nowhere else to turn.

She opened the contract and started reading.

ARTHUR

Arthur watched Kiah's face as she read.

She was intelligent. He had known that from her file. But intelligence was different from cleverness, and he needed to know which one she possessed.

Most people skimmed contracts. They trusted lawyers to catch the details. They signed without understanding what they were agreeing to.

Kiah read every word.

Her eyes moved quickly, but she paused on certain sections. Her brow furrowed when she reached page twelve.

Arthur knew what she had found.

"This clause." Kiah looked up at him. "It says I cannot leave your residence without permission."

"Correct."

"That is imprisonment."

"That is protection." Arthur leaned back in his chair. "You will be living in my home. You will be seen in public as my wife. That makes you a target for anyone who wants to damage me. I will not allow you to wander freely and put yourself at risk."

"At risk from what?"

Arthur's expression did not change. "Read the rest."

Kiah's jaw tightened, but she returned to the contract.

She was angry. Good. Anger meant she was paying attention.

Most people who entered his world were too dazzled by wealth to see the chains until it was too late.

Kiah saw them immediately.

Arthur's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.

Another message from the same unknown number as last night.

"She received a warning. If she signs, she is yours to bury."

Arthur deleted it and set the phone face down.

Whoever was behind these threats wanted him to know they were watching. They wanted him to be afraid.

He was not afraid.

He was prepared.

"This section." Kiah's voice cut through his thoughts. "It says all communication with my family must be approved by you first."

"Yes."

"I need to talk to my brother."

"You will. Under supervision."

Kiah's hands curled into fists on top of the contract. "You are asking me to give up every freedom I have."

"I am offering you a trade." Arthur's tone remained flat. "Your freedom for six months in exchange for your brother's life. If that is not worth it to you, the door is behind you."

Her eyes flashed with something dark. Something dangerous.

Arthur felt a flicker of interest.

Most people crumbled under pressure. They begged. They cried. They made themselves small.

Kiah looked like she wanted to set him on fire.

"What happens if I break the contract?" she asked quietly.

"Then I will destroy you." Arthur said it without inflection. A simple fact. "I will ensure your brother never sees daylight again. I will make certain you never work in this city. I will erase you."

Silence filled the room like a living thing.

Kiah stared at him, and for a moment, Arthur wondered if she would walk away.

Part of him wanted her to.

The other part wanted to see how far he could push her before she broke.

"Where do I sign?" Kiah said finally.

Arthur slid a pen across the desk.

KIAH

Kiah's hand shook as she signed her name.

Each stroke of the pen felt like sealing a tomb.

But Ethan's face flickered in her mind. His smile. The way he used to make her laugh when their father worked late and the house felt too empty.

She would survive this.

She had survived worse.

Arthur took the contract the moment she finished and pressed a button on his desk. The door opened, and a man in an expensive suit entered.

"Witness the signature," Arthur said.

The man did not speak. He signed his name beside Kiah's and left as quickly as he had arrived.

Arthur placed the contract in a drawer and locked it.

"It is done."

Kiah felt numb. Like she had just sold herself and was waiting to feel the weight of the chains.

"When do I move in?" she asked.

"Today."

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"A car is waiting downstairs. It will take you to your apartment. You have two hours to pack what you need. Everything else will be provided."

"Two hours?" Kiah stood, her pulse racing. "I have a lease. A job. I cannot just disappear."

"You no longer have a job." Arthur stood as well, moving around the desk with that predatory grace. "Your lease will be paid out. Any debts you have will be cleared. As of this moment, Kiah Taylor, you belong to me."

The way he said it made her skin crawl.

And something else.

Something she did not want to name.

"I need to see my brother first," Kiah said.

"No."

"You promised...."

"I promised to reopen his case." Arthur stepped closer. Too close. "I did not promise you could see him before I was ready to allow it."

Kiah's breath hitched. "You are a liar."

"I am a businessman." His voice dropped lower. "And you just signed away your right to call me anything at all."

She wanted to scream. To hit him. To run.

But the contract was signed.

The deal was done.

Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. When he opened it, a diamond caught the light. Massive, cold, beautiful enough to be a lie.

"Give me your hand," he said.

Kiah did not move.

Arthur's eyes darkened. "Now."

She held out her left hand, hating herself for obeying.

Arthur slid the ring onto her finger. It was heavy. Foreign. It felt like a shackle.

"There." His thumb brushed against her knuckles, and the touch sent a jolt through her. "Now you look like my wife."

Kiah pulled her hand back. "I am not your wife. I am your employee."

"You are whatever I say you are." Arthur leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "And if you ever forget that, I will remind you exactly how much power I have over your life."

Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might break through her ribs.

Arthur pulled back and returned to his desk like nothing had happened.

"The car is waiting," he said without looking at her. "Do not be late."

Kiah turned and walked toward the door, her legs shaking.

She reached for the handle, but before she could open it, Arthur spoke again.

"Kiah."

She froze.

"Someone sent you a message last night." His tone was casual. Too casual. "Warning you not to sign."

Kiah's blood turned to ice.

She turned slowly.

Arthur was watching her now, his expression unreadable.

"How do you know that?" she whispered.

Arthur's mouth curved into something cold and humorless.

"Because I know everything."

KIAH

The car that picked Kiah up was not a car.

It was a fortress on wheels.

Black exterior, bulletproof glass, a driver who never made eye contact. The second man in the passenger seat didn't bother hiding the gun under his jacket.

Kiah sat in the back, her hands folded in her lap, the diamond ring catching the light every time she moved.

She wanted to rip it off.

She wanted to throw it out the window and run.

But Arthur's words echoed in her mind.

"I know everything."

He knew about the message. Which meant he was watching her phone. Tracking her. Controlling her before she even stepped foot in his home.

The car pulled up to her apartment building, and both men got out.

"We will accompany you inside," the driver said. His voice was flat. Professional.

"I do not need an escort to pack a bag."

"Mr. Lucas insists."

Of course he did.

Kiah climbed the stairs to her third-floor apartment, the two men flanking her like guards escorting a prisoner.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The apartment looked smaller than it had this morning. Emptier. Like it already knew she was leaving.

"You have two hours," the driver said from the doorway.

Kiah did not respond. She moved to her bedroom and pulled a suitcase from under the bed.

Her hands shook as she folded clothes. She did not know what to bring. Arthur had said everything would be provided, but that felt like another way of saying she would not be allowed to keep anything of her own.

She packed quickly. Clothes. Toiletries. A photo of Ethan from before the trial.

She was reaching for her laptop when she saw it. An envelope on her bed.

She froze.

That had not been there this morning. She was certain.

Kiah glanced toward the door. The two men were standing in the hallway, their backs to her.

She picked up the envelope with trembling fingers and opened it.

Inside was a single piece of paper.

"He is not protecting you. He is using you. Get out while you still can."

Kiah's breath caught.

Someone had been in her apartment.

Someone had left this for her to find.

And they knew she was leaving today.

"Miss Taylor." The driver's voice cut through her panic. "Time is running out."

Kiah shoved the note into her pocket and zipped the suitcase closed.

Her heart was racing, but she forced her face to stay calm.

Whoever had left that message wanted her afraid.

Or they wanted her to trust them.

Either way, she could not show weakness. Not now.

She walked out of the apartment without looking back.

ARTHUR

Arthur stood in the foyer of his penthouse, watching the security feed on his phone.

Kiah was on her way up.

He had spent the last two hours making sure everything was in place. Her room. Her schedule. Her security detail.

And the cameras.

He needed to know where she was at all times. Not because he did not trust her.

Because he did not trust anyone else.

The elevator doors opened, and Kiah stepped out into the vast space.

She looked small against the high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows. Fragile, even.

But her eyes were sharp.

Arthur pocketed his phone and gestured toward the hallway. "Your room is this way."

Kiah did not move. "I want to know who sent me that message last night."

"No."

"You said you know everything. So tell me."

Arthur turned to face her fully. She was still clutching her suitcase like it was a lifeline.

"What you want," he said slowly, "is no longer relevant. You signed a contract. That means you do what I tell you. You go where I tell you. And you stop asking questions I am not ready to answer."

Kiah's jaw tightened. "I am not your prisoner."

"You are exactly my prisoner." Arthur closed the distance between them in three strides. "The only difference is that your cage is gilded."

She stared up at him, her breathing uneven. For a moment, Arthur saw something flicker in her eyes.

Fear.

Good.

Fear would keep her alive.

"Follow me," he said, turning away before he did something he would regret.

Like telling her the truth.

KIAH

Kiah followed Arthur through the penthouse, hating every step.

The space was massive. Clean lines. Expensive furniture. Windows that overlooked the entire city.

It was beautiful.

It was suffocating.

Arthur stopped in front of a door and pushed it open.

"This is your room."

Kiah stepped inside and froze.

The room was larger than her entire apartment. A king-sized bed. A walk-in closet. A private bathroom with a bathtub that looked like it belonged in a spa.

And bars on the windows.

She turned to Arthur. "You are joking."

"Security measures." His tone did not change. "This building has enemies. The windows are reinforced. The bars are precautionary."

"They are a cage."

"They are protection." Arthur leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "You will learn the difference."

Kiah wanted to scream. To throw something. To make him feel even a fraction of the helplessness she felt.

But she forced herself to breathe.

"Where is your room?" she asked quietly.

Arthur's eyes darkened. "Why?"

"Because I want to know how far I need to run if I decide to leave."

His mouth curved into something cold. "You will not make it to the elevator."

"You cannot keep me here forever."

"Six months." Arthur pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the room. "That is all I need. After that, you can run as far as you want." He stopped inches from her, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But until then, Kiah, you are mine."

The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine.

She hated it.

She hated him.

And she hated the part of her that was not entirely sure that was true.

Arthur stepped back. "Dinner is at seven. Do not be late."

He walked out and closed the door behind him.

Kiah stood in the center of the room, her chest heaving.

She pulled the note from her pocket and read it again.

"He is not protecting you. He is using you."

Maybe they were right.

Maybe Arthur was using her for something she did not understand yet.

But she had signed the contract.

And there was no way out.

Kiah spent the next hour unpacking in silence.

She hung her clothes in the massive closet, which already contained an entire wardrobe she had not chosen. Designer dresses. Shoes. Jewelry.

Everything she needed to play the role of Arthur Lucas's wife.

Everything except her freedom.

She was folding the last of her clothes when her phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number.

"Check under your bed."

Kiah's blood turned cold.

She stared at the message, her hands shaking.

Someone was watching her.

Someone knew she was here.

She knelt beside the bed and looked underneath.

There was a small black box tucked against the wall.

Kiah pulled it out and opened it.

Inside was a burner phone and another note.

"Use this if you need help. Do not let him find it. Trust no one."

Her heart pounded so hard she thought she might pass out.

Who was doing this?

And why?

She shoved the phone and note under her mattress and stood, her mind racing.

Arthur had said he knew everything.

But he did not know about this.

Which meant someone was working against him.

Someone who wanted her to have a way out.

Or someone who wanted to pull her deeper into something she did not understand.

Kiah sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling.

She had walked into a war.

And she had no idea which side she was supposed to be on.

ARTHUR

Arthur watched the security footage from his office.

Kiah had found the box.

He had known she would.

Whoever was trying to reach her was smart. They knew his security. They knew his patterns.

And they were moving faster than he had anticipated.

Arthur picked up his phone and dialed.

"She found it," he said when the line connected.

"Good." The voice on the other end was calm. Professional. "Then the trap is set."

"If this goes wrong....."

"It will not." A pause. "You just need to keep her close. Make sure she does not use that phone until we are ready."

Arthur ended the call and leaned back in his chair.

Kiah thought she was a pawn in someone else's game.

She was right.

But she did not know that Arthur was playing both sides.

And by the time she figured it out, it would be too late.

At six fifty-eight, Kiah walked into the dining room.

Arthur was already seated at the head of the table, a glass of wine in his hand.

He looked up when she entered, his gaze sweeping over her.

She had changed into one of the dresses from the closet. Simple. Black. Elegant.

She looked like she belonged in his world.

She looked like his wife.

"Sit," Arthur said.

Kiah sat across from him, her hands folded in her lap.

Silence stretched between them like a blade.

A server appeared and placed food in front of them. Kiah did not touch it.

"You need to eat," Arthur said.

"I am not hungry."

"I am not a suggestion." Arthur's tone left no room for argument.

Kiah's eyes flashed, but she picked up her fork.

Arthur watched her, studying every movement. Every flicker of emotion.

She was afraid. Angry. Desperate.

And she was hiding something.

"Tomorrow," Arthur said, breaking the silence, "we are announcing our engagement to the press."

Kiah's head snapped up. "What?"

"A press conference. Ten AM. You will stand beside me. Smile. Answer questions. Play the role you were hired to play."

"I just signed the contract this morning."

"And the world needs to know you are mine by tomorrow." Arthur set his glass down. "Appearances matter, Kiah. The sooner we look united, the sooner my enemies lose leverage."

"Your enemies." Kiah's voice was tight. "Who are they?"

"That," Arthur said quietly, "is none of your concern."

"It is if they are going to come after me."

Arthur's expression did not change. "They already are."

The words hung in the air like smoke.

Kiah went pale. "What?"

Arthur stood and walked around the table. He stopped beside her chair, his hand resting on the back of it.

"Someone wants you dead, Kiah," he said softly. "They have wanted you dead since the moment I chose you." He leaned down, his mouth close to her ear. "And the only reason you are still breathing is because I am standing between you and them."

Kiah's breath hitched.

Arthur straightened and walked toward the door.

"Get some sleep," he said without looking back. "Tomorrow, the world finds out you belong to me."

He left her sitting alone in the silence.

And somewhere in the shadows, a phone buzzed with a new message.

"The clock is ticking. She has three days."

KIAH

Kiah did not sleep.

She lay in the enormous bed, staring at the ceiling, Arthur's words circling her mind like vultures.

"Someone wants you dead."

Not him.

Her.

She was the target. Not Arthur. Not his empire.

Her.

But why?

She was nobody. An event planner with a brother in prison and a father who believed the law was sacred.

What could she possibly have that someone wanted badly enough to kill her for?

At five in the morning, Kiah gave up on sleep and retrieved the burner phone from under the mattress.

She turned it on.

One contact saved. No name. Just a number.

Her thumb hovered over the call button.

Trust no one.

That included whoever had given her this phone.

She turned it off and hid it again.

At seven, someone knocked on her door.

"Miss Taylor." A woman's voice. Polite but firm. "Mr. Lucas sent me to prepare you for the press conference."

Kiah opened the door to find a woman in her forties holding a garment bag and a makeup case.

"I am Claire," the woman said, stepping inside without waiting for permission. "We have three hours. That is barely enough time."

"Enough time for what?"

Claire gave her a look that said the answer was obvious. "To make you look like you belong next to Arthur Lucas."

Two hours later, Kiah barely recognized the woman in the mirror.

Her hair fell in soft waves. Her makeup was flawless. The emerald green dress Claire had brought hugged every curve in ways that made her uncomfortable. 

She looked expensive.

She looked like someone's possession, a gift wrapped for display. 

"Perfect." Claire stepped back, admiring her work. "He will not be able to take his eyes off you."

Kiah's stomach twisted. "That is not the goal."

"It is always the goal." Claire packed up her supplies. "A man like Arthur Lucas does not marry for love. He marries for power. And you, Miss Taylor, are about to become the most powerful piece on his board."

Before Kiah could respond, Claire left.

Kiah stood alone in front of the mirror, staring at the stranger looking back at her.

Arthur had dressed her. Styled her. Controlled every inch of how the world would see her.

And she had let him.

Because she had no choice.

She touched the diamond ring on her finger and felt the weight of the cage tightening.

ARTHUR

Arthur adjusted his tie in the mirror and checked his watch.

Nine forty-five.

Fifteen minutes until the press conference.

Kiah should have been downstairs by now.

He picked up his phone and called his head of security.

"Where is she?"

"Still in her room, sir."

Arthur ended the call and headed for the elevator.

He did not have time for resistance. Not today.

The press was already gathering. Investors were watching. His enemies were waiting for him to show weakness.

And Kiah was the only thing standing between him and total collapse.

He reached her door and knocked once.

No answer.

Arthur opened it without waiting.

Kiah stood by the window, her back to him. The emerald dress clung to her like a second skin, and for a moment, Arthur forgot why he was there.

She looked devastating.

She looked dangerous.

"We leave in ten minutes," he said.

Kiah turned slowly. Her face was calm, but her eyes were fire.

"I am not doing this."

Arthur's jaw tightened. "Yes. You are."

"You did not tell me someone wanted me dead." Her voice was low. Controlled. But there was rage underneath. "You let me walk into this blind."

"I told you last night."

"After I signed the contract." Kiah took a step toward him. "You used me. You knew I was in danger, and you used that to trap me."

"I used it to save you." Arthur moved closer, closing the space between them. "If you had known the truth before you signed, you would have run. And you would be dead by now."

"You do not know that."

"I know everything." Arthur's voice dropped. "I know that three people connected to your brother's case have died in the last six months. I know that someone has been watching you for weeks. I know that the moment you became my wife, you became untouchable to everyone except me."

Kiah's face went pale. "What are you talking about?"

"Your brother did not just witness a crime, Kiah." Arthur's eyes were cold. "He witnessed something that powerful people will kill to keep buried. And now that you are connected to me, they think you know what he knows."

She stared at him, her breathing shallow.

"What did Ethan see?" she whispered.

"That," Arthur said quietly, "is what we are going to find out."

KIAH

Kiah's mind was spinning.

Three people dead.

Her brother knew something.

Something worth killing for.

And Arthur had known all of this before he ever proposed the contract.

"You should have told me," she said, her voice shaking.

"If I had told you, you would not have signed." Arthur's gaze was relentless. "And you would be dead. Or worse."

"What is worse than dead?"

Arthur's expression darkened. "You do not want to know."

Kiah's hands curled into fists. She wanted to scream at him. To hit him. To demand answers.

But there was no time.

Arthur checked his watch. "We leave in five minutes. Fix your face. Smile. And do not make me regret choosing you."

He walked out, leaving her standing in the wreckage of everything she thought she knew.

The press conference was held in the main ballroom of Lucas Holdings.

Cameras. Reporters. Flashing lights.

Kiah stood beside Arthur on the stage, her hand resting in the crook of his arm because Claire had positioned it there.

She felt like a doll.

Arthur stepped up to the microphone, his presence commanding instant silence.

"Thank you all for coming." His voice was smooth. Confident. "I am here today to introduce someone very important to me. This is Kiah Taylor. As of yesterday, she agreed to become my wife."

The room erupted.

Questions shouted from every direction.

Arthur held up a hand, and the chaos stilled.

"We will take a few questions."

A reporter in the front row stood. "Mr. Lucas, this engagement seems sudden. How long have you known Miss Taylor?"

Arthur's hand moved to Kiah's waist, pulling her closer. The touch was possessive. Deliberate.

"Long enough to know she is the only woman I want by my side."

Kiah's heart pounded. She forced a smile.

Another reporter stood. "Miss Taylor, what do you say to rumors that this marriage is a business arrangement?"

Kiah froze.

Arthur's hand tightened on her waist, a silent warning.

She stepped closer to the microphone. "I say that people will believe what they want to believe. But I know the truth. And that is all that matters."

The answer was vague. Safe.

Arthur's mouth curved slightly. Approval.

Another question. "Mr. Lucas, how do you respond to allegations that your company is under investigation for financial misconduct?"

Arthur's expression did not change. "Those allegations are baseless. And they will be proven false."

The reporter pressed. "But three of your board members have resigned in the last month. Does that not suggest instability?"

"It suggests," Arthur said coldly, "that I do not tolerate weakness. Or betrayal."

The room went silent.

Arthur glanced at Kiah. "We are done here."

He led her off the stage, his hand still firm on her waist.

The moment they were behind closed doors, Kiah pulled away.

"You did not tell me your company was under investigation."

"It is not."

"That reporter-"

"Was lying." Arthur's tone was sharp. "Someone planted that story to make me look vulnerable. It is part of the same game. The same people trying to destroy me."

Kiah stared at him. "Who are they?"

Arthur's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted.

Something cold flickered in his eyes.

"Get in the car," he said quietly.

"What is wrong?"

"Now, Kiah."

She did not argue. The tone of his voice left no room for it.

They walked to the parking garage in silence. Arthur's security team surrounded them, their hands resting on concealed weapons.

The car was waiting.

Arthur opened the door and pushed Kiah inside.

She landed hard against the seat. "What is going on?"

Arthur climbed in beside her and slammed the door. "Drive."

The car lurched forward.

Kiah's pulse raced. "Arthur-"

"Someone just sent a message to the press." His voice was tight. Controlled. "They claim to have evidence that you were involved in your brother's crime."

Kiah's blood turned to ice. "What?"

"They are saying you helped him. That you are guilty. That I married a criminal."

"That is insane." Kiah's hands were shaking. "I did not do anything."

"I know." Arthur's jaw was tight. "But they do not care about the truth. They care about destroying you. And if they destroy you, they destroy me."

The car sped through the city, weaving through traffic.

Kiah's mind was racing. "Who would do this?"

Arthur did not answer.

His phone buzzed again.

He looked at the screen, and for the first time since she met him, Kiah saw something she did not expect.

Fear.

"What is it?" she whispered.

Arthur's eyes met hers, and the world seemed to stop.

"They just released a photo," he said quietly. "Of you. Meeting with someone two days before you signed the contract."

Kiah's heart stopped. "What photo?"

Arthur turned the phone toward her.

The image was grainy but clear.

Kiah. Standing outside a coffee shop.

Talking to a man she had never seen before in her life.

"I do not know who that is," she said quickly. "I have never met him. I swear-"

"I know." Arthur's voice was ice. "Which means someone is setting you up."

The car screeched to a halt.

Arthur's head of security opened the door. "Sir, we have a problem."

"What?"

The man's face was grim. "Someone just tried to access Miss Taylor's apartment. They left this."

He held out a manila envelope.

Arthur took it and opened it.

Inside was a single photo.

Ethan.

In prison.

With a red X drawn over his face.

And written across the bottom in blood-red ink:

"She has two days. Or he dies."