Julia Owen POV:

My heart lurches. My arms almost go slack around his neck.

Liam's breath is warm against my ear, his voice laced with a dark amusement. "Want me to put you down now? You can go back and expose them."

I hesitate. A war rages inside me. What would exposing them achieve? A screaming match in the driveway? Public humiliation? The thought of their faces, the lies, the pity... No. Tearing them apart right now wouldn't be enough. It wouldn't quell the fire of betrayal burning in my chest.

As if reading my mind, Liam doesn't stop. He continues up the steps, ignoring Cayden's anxious shouts from behind. "Julia's still sick! Don't... don't do anything to her!"

The heavy villa door slams shut, cutting off the outside world.

Liam abruptly lets me go. I stumble, my legs like jelly, and barely manage to catch myself against the cool marble of the wall.

I realize tears are streaming down my face. I hastily wipe them away with the back of my hand.

I see his brow furrow. He looks away, his jaw tight, and loosens his tie as he walks deeper into the vast, silent house. I stand frozen by the door, unsure if I should run.

When he returns, he's changed into a simple grey t-shirt and dark pants. He's lounging on a massive white sofa, his long legs stretched out, the picture of casual command.

His gaze meets mine, and a slight, knowing smile plays on his lips. "Since you're still here, sit down. Let's talk business."

Business. The word hits me like a slap. I remember their conspiracy outside my hospital room. My face stiffens.

"I'm not discussing the demolition," I say, my voice cold. "No amount of money will ever change my mind."

Liam's smile vanishes. He shakes his head, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "We're not talking about the manor. Not for now." His expression becomes complex, unreadable. "Do you want revenge on Cayden?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. "He and your best friend have been sleeping together for three years."

He takes out his phone, plays a few seconds of a video, and tosses it onto the coffee table between us. "See for yourself."

I walk over, my limbs feeling numb, disconnected from my body. I was prepared for this. I heard them. But seeing it is different.

The videos are high-definition, clearly filmed from the building across the street from Vivian's apartment. They show Cayden arriving right after I leave for work in the morning. They show him kissing Vivian, a desperate, hungry kiss I'd never received. Their clothes are torn off as they move from the sofa to the bed, their bodies a tangle of limbs.

The man in the video is ravenous, animalistic. For three years, Cayden had been so restrained with me, a perfect gentleman. I can't believe this is the same person.

A wave of nausea rolls through me. My whole body starts to tremble.

Liam stands up, as if he can't bear to watch me break. "Are you ready to talk business now?"

I stare at him, shocked that he can be so calm, so transactional, after showing me proof that he backstabbed his own cousin.

Anger and despair surge through me, but then, a strange calm settles in. This is my new reality. "Other than the manor," I say, my voice flat, "I can't think of any other business we have."

I drag my feet toward the door, ready to walk out into the night with nowhere to go.

"Let's play along with their mistake," his voice says from behind me. "I need a wife."

I stop, stunned. It takes a moment for his words to register. A flicker of disgust cuts through my shock. "You want to take everything, don't you?" I accuse, spinning to face him. "Trick me into this marriage, then tear down my house."

He rubs his forehead, looking genuinely exasperated. "No demolition. If you agree, I swear on my family's name, I won't touch the manor."

He explains it then. He needs to give the family elders an answer. A wife. A suitable one. We'll have a wedding, a real one in the eyes of the world. What happens after, he says, is up to me.

His proposal is so sudden, so absurd, it catches me completely off guard. "Why me?" I ask.

"It's convenient," he says slowly, his eyes holding mine. "And you hate me. So I don't have to worry about you getting attached."

I have a feeling his tone, his expression, it's all a performance. This isn't the real reason.

As I hesitate, my phone buzzes. A message from Vivian.

Julia, are you okay? You left some things at my place. I'll bring them to you tomorrow.

My friend of ten years. So eager to get rid of me. The last of my strength gives way, and fresh tears fall.

I slowly type back a reply, my fingers trembling. Sorry, I don't remember. It's probably not important. Throw it away.

I look up at Liam, my composure restored, my heart a frozen block of ice.

"I agree," I say. "But I want a contract first."

---

Julia Owen POV:

Liam lends me his upstairs study to draft the contract. The room is all dark wood and leather, smelling of old books and his cedarwood cologne. He hands me a heavy, cream-colored business card.

"Simon Tate is the Hewitt Outfit's lawyer," he says, his voice neutral. "If you don't trust him, find your own."

I take the card. Simon Tate. The name is infamous. He's known for making problems—and people—disappear.

Half an hour later, a single sheet of paper sits on Liam's massive desk. My terms are concise, focused entirely on protecting the only two things I have left: myself and my manor.

The contract stipulates that I will assist with wedding preparations and appear publicly as his partner for a period not to exceed three months.

Another clause states that the Hewitt Outfit, and Liam Hewitt personally, will permanently relinquish any and all claims to demolish, acquire, or repurpose the Owen manor.

Liam reads it carefully, his face unreadable. Then he suggests two amendments.

"First," he says, tapping the clause about the manor. "A breach of this contract will result in a fifty-million-dollar penalty. Payable to you."

I stare at him, shocked into silence. The highest offer they ever made for the land was less than a tenth of that. Is he insane?

He brings up the second point, a strange hesitation in his voice. "Three months is a bit rushed. Even for a... strategic marriage, it could affect the Hewitt Corporation's stock."

I study him, trying to see the trap.

His eyebrow twitches, but his eyes are clear when he meets my gaze. He suggests a new clause: if both parties agree, the contract can be renewed before the three months are up.

Before I can protest, he adds, "You're single now. Your fiancé cheated on you. Maybe starting a new relationship will help you heal."

I almost choke. Heal? With my ex-fiancé's cousin and rival? The man who tormented me for years?

He presses on, his expression confident. "I don't have time to meet anyone else. Let's just give it three months. If there are no sparks, we part amicably."

The more open he is, the less I understand his real motives. But I have no other options. I'm cornered. I give a reluctant nod.

A wave of relief washes over me as he signs his name with a flourish and stamps the document with a heavy, official-looking seal. He locks both copies in his safe.

As the reality of my situation sinks in, an awkward heat rises in my cheeks. Betrayed by my best friend and my fiancé, I have nowhere to go. My only other option is the manor, with its stray cats and ghosts.

"Um..." I start, unable to meet his eyes. "Can I... can I stay here for a while?"

"Of course," he answers, almost too quickly. "You're my girlfriend now. You live here."

Just then, his phone buzzes on the desk. He glances at the screen, and a frown creases his brow. Cayden.

Liam clears his throat and steps aside to take the call, but in the echoing silence of the villa, I hear every word.

"I was too impulsive today," Cayden says, his voice tight. "I'll have Vivian bring Julia back tomorrow. They're best friends, they've always lived together."

A low chuckle comes from Liam. "Hold on, let me ask her."

Before Cayden can object, Liam raises his voice, pitching it to carry across the room. "Darling, do you want to move back to your friend's place?"

The word "darling" sends a shiver down my spine. "No," I reply, my voice firm.

Liam nods at the phone. "You heard her. My girlfriend doesn't remember anything, so don't bother Vivian." He pauses, letting the silence stretch. "And we just had a heart-to-heart. We've agreed to this marriage."

Cayden is silent for a long moment. When he speaks again, his voice is low and dripping with arrogance. "Don't push it, Liam. She'll remember eventually, and when she does, she'll come running back to me crying. Julia's been with me for three years. No parents, no family. I'm the most important person in her life."

He boasts that a few sweet words will be all it takes for him to get me back.

"And Vivian?" Liam asks, his tone one of mild curiosity.

"Vivian and I were just using each other," Cayden claims with a dismissive laugh. "She likes my skills in bed, I like the thrill. You wouldn't understand. Just keep Julia occupied for me. I'll owe you a big one."

The call ends. Liam turns back to me, and for a second, I see something like pity in his eyes. "You're crying."

I quickly wipe my cheeks, turning my back to him. "Just dust in my eye."

Liam clears his throat. "The windows are closed."