Blinding sunlight stabbed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, striking Krista directly in the eyes.

She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as a sledgehammer of a headache pounded against her skull. Her mouth tasted like dry cotton. She forced her heavy eyelids open, wincing at the brightness.

She sat up, instinctively reaching to rub her temples. The silk blanket slipped off her shoulders, and the icy blast of the air conditioning hit her bare skin.

Krista froze.

She looked down. She was completely naked. Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes locked onto the dark, angry purple bruises scattered across her collarbone and the swell of her breasts.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. A violent wave of panic crashed over her.

Flashes of the night before ripped through her mind. The smell of cedar. The scorching heat of skin against skin. The sound of a silk tie ripping.

She gasped for air, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she grabbed the edges of the blanket and yanked it up to her chin, wrapping herself into a tight cocoon. She darted her eyes around the room.

Minimalist luxury. Cold gray tones. An abstract painting on the wall that belonged in a museum, not a hotel. This was a private penthouse.

Click.

The sound of the bathroom door unlocking echoed like a gunshot in the silent room.

Krista scrambled backward, pressing her spine hard against the tufted headboard. She stared at the frosted glass door, her chest heaving.

Thick white steam rolled out into the bedroom as the door swung open. A man walked out.

He wore nothing but a white towel slung dangerously low on his hips. Water droplets clung to his broad shoulders, tracing the deep grooves of his eight-pack abs before disappearing into the terrycloth. He was drying his wet black hair with a smaller towel, his movements slow and lazy, yet radiating an overwhelming, suffocating dominance.

Krista's pulse skyrocketed. Her throat squeezed shut. She couldn't look away from the sheer physical power of his chest.

The man felt her stare. He stopped moving. He lowered the towel, and his eyes-cold, dark, and precise as a sniper's scope-locked onto her.

The temperature in the room plummeted to freezing. Krista's fingers dug so hard into the silk sheets that the fabric threatened to tear.

"Awake?"

His voice was a deep, gravelly rumble that vibrated right through the floorboards and into her bones.

Krista swallowed hard, fighting the bile in her throat. "Last... last night was an accident." Her voice shook violently. "We are both adults. It happens."

She darted her eyes toward the floor, desperately searching for her shredded dress.

A dangerous shadow crossed the man's eyes. He tossed the towel onto a velvet armchair and took a step toward the bed.

With every step he took, that intoxicating scent of cedar and body wash wrapped around Krista, suffocating her.

He stopped at the edge of the mattress, towering over her. He looked down at her like a hunter observing a trapped rabbit.

"An accident?" he scoffed.

He suddenly leaned forward, planting both of his large hands on the mattress on either side of her knees, carefully avoiding the thick blanket she had wrapped around herself like a shield. His sheer physical presence blocked out the light from the windows. He caged her in completely.

Krista shrank back, the air crushing her lungs. She pressed herself flat against the headboard, but there was nowhere left to go.

He leaned in closer. His hot breath brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck, sending a violent shiver down her spine.

"You took my innocence," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with dark authority. "And you think 'we are adults' is going to dismiss me?"

Krista's eyes went wide. The blood rushed out of her head. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

The man straightened up. He casually brushed a non-existent piece of lint off his bare shoulder, looking entirely justified.

His eyes turned to ice as he delivered the final blow.

"You need to take responsibility, Ms. Cain."

Krista's jaw trembled. Her brain short-circuited entirely, leaving her completely speechless.

Krista sat frozen for five full seconds. The sheer absurdity of his words finally broke through her shock.

She shook her head violently. "Responsibility? Are you out of your mind?"

She didn't care about modesty anymore. She kicked the blanket off her leg, ready to scramble off the opposite side of the mattress and run for the door.

The man moved faster. His large hand slammed down on the edge of the blanket, pinning it to the mattress with a force that made the entire bed shake. He trapped her instantly.

"I never joke." His voice was lethal.

He turned slightly and snatched a custom black smartphone off the nightstand. His long thumb swiped the screen twice before he shoved the phone directly into her face.

It was a security camera feed from the hallway outside. The resolution was crystal clear.

Krista watched in horror as the video played. She was wrapped around the man like an octopus, her legs locked around his waist. Her hands were violently tearing at his expensive dress shirt, and her mouth was frantically biting at his neck.

Heat exploded across Krista's cheeks. Her face burned so hot it hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

The man locked the phone and tossed it aside. He tilted his head to the side, drawing her eyes to the exposed skin above his collarbone.

Deep, red scratches and purple bite marks marred his perfect skin.

"The evidence is right here," he said, a cruel, mocking edge to his tone. "You were very... enthusiastic."

Krista was mortified. She forced herself to look at him, to beg for mercy. But as her eyes focused on his face-the sharp, arrogant eyebrows, the straight nose, the absolute ruthless power radiating from him-a memory clicked into place.

She had seen that face on the cover of Forbes magazine.

Her stomach plummeted. The blood in her veins turned to ice.

"You... you are Jasper Stone?" Her voice cracked, coming out as a pathetic squeak.

The youngest financial predator on Wall Street. The absolute ruler of the Stone family. The most ruthless, cold-blooded man in New York.

The panic in her chest morphed into pure, primal terror. She knew exactly how much trouble she was in.

She instantly folded. She brought her hands together in front of her chest, her voice trembling with desperation.

"Mr. Stone, I am so sorry. I blacked out. I swear." She looked down at her hands, a bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaping her lips. "And I have nothing. The Cain family kicked me out last night. I am completely broke. I can't possibly take responsibility for you."

Jasper stared down at her. Seeing her look so broken, like a bird with its wings snapped, sent a sharp, physical ache straight through his chest.

He forced his jaw to clench, burying the emotion. He kept his face an impenetrable mask of corporate cruelty. He let out a cold scoff.

"That is your problem, not mine." His voice carried zero emotion.

He turned his back on her and walked toward the massive walk-in closet.

"I, Jasper Stone, do not make bad investments," his voice echoed out from the closet.

Krista sat on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had no idea what this monster was planning.

Three minutes later, Jasper walked back out. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored, charcoal-black bespoke suit. He looked like the flawless, terrifying CEO the world knew.

He walked to the foot of the bed, slowly adjusting his sapphire cufflinks. His dark eyes locked onto her, devoid of any warmth.

He opened his mouth and delivered the verdict.

"Since you can't pay me with money, you will pay off your debt with marriage."

The room fell dead silent. Krista's mouth fell open, her soul completely leaving her body.

Krista reached down and pinched the skin of her thigh hard. The sharp pain flared, proving this wasn't a nightmare.

She tilted her head up, staring at the man standing at the foot of the bed like a god passing judgment. "Mr. Stone, you know marriage isn't a joke, right?"

Jasper didn't answer immediately. He turned and walked over to the open marble bar. He poured a cup of black coffee. With his back to her, he took a deep, steadying breath, forcing the obsessive heat out of his eyes. He locked his features into a mask of pure business.

He turned around, holding the coffee cup. His tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "The Stone Group is dealing with rumors of a power shift at the top."

Krista stared at him, completely lost.

"The board of directors is trying to force an arranged marriage on me to control my shares," Jasper said, taking a sip of the bitter coffee. He frowned in disgust. "So, I need a wife. A wife with zero background, someone completely under my control, who can block all this trouble for me."

Krista caught the logic. A bitter, hollow laugh escaped her throat. "So, the fake heiress who just got thrown out on the street is your perfect human shield?"

Jasper set the coffee cup down on the marble counter. The ceramic clinked sharply. He didn't deny it.

"But women line up all the way to Brooklyn just to look at you," Krista said, her voice shaking. "Why me?"

Jasper walked back to the bed. He leaned down, his dark eyes piercing right through her defenses.

He reached out. His thumb gently brushed against her lower lip, right where she had been biting it in anxiety.

Krista flinched backward like she had been burned, her heart rate spiking out of control.

"Because I have a severe, almost biological aversion to being touched by anyone," Jasper said, his voice dropping into a low, hypnotic register. "Yet, you are the first person to ever cross that boundary without triggering a violent, physical repulsion. When your skin touched mine, my body didn't reject you. It welcomed you."

He paused, letting the silence stretch before dropping his final weapon. "You are the very first woman to have ever touched me, and for that fact alone, you will take responsibility. You touched what belongs to me, and now, you belong to me. You shattered my absolute control, and I demand payment."

Krista's eyes widened to the size of saucers. She stared at the most powerful man in New York, convinced he was completely insane. But she couldn't argue with the deep scratches still visible above his collar.

Jasper straightened up, instantly reverting to the cold CEO. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a neatly folded document.

He tossed it onto the silk sheets. The crisp paper smelled faintly of fresh ink.

"This is a temporary prenuptial agreement draft. Sign it, and I will solve every financial and reputation crisis you currently face."

Krista stared at the paper like it was a death warrant. Her mind was a battlefield.

"I won't force you." Jasper shot his cuff and checked his Patek Philippe watch. His movements were precise and ruthless. "I have a board meeting. You have four hours to decide."

He turned and walked toward the heavy mahogany doors. He didn't look back.

As his hand hit the brass handle, he stopped. He turned his head slightly, his voice dripping with absolute authority.

"But remember, Ms. Cain. Walk out that door, and you face the entire Cain family and the laughing stock of New York society alone."

"Stay, and you are the untouchable Mrs. Stone."

The heavy door clicked shut behind him.

Krista's muscles gave out. She collapsed backward onto the pillows, gasping for air as if she had been drowning.

She turned her head, her eyes locking onto the prenup resting on the sheets. She was completely, utterly trapped.