SILAS

I checked my watch. Ten minutes and twelve seconds.

The room was too quiet. I didn't need to be a genius to know she was gone. Maya Sullivan was a lot of things, a brat, a chatterbox, a sharp-tongued fighter but she was also predictable.

A girl with a mouth like hers doesn't wait to be told when to speak her vows. She spends every second looking for a way to rewrite the script.

I pushed the bedroom door open. The window was up, and the curtains were snapping in the wind like white flags of surrender. I walked to the ledge, the cold air rushing in to meet me.

The fire escape was empty. I looked down at the iron steps and felt a pull of admiration. She'd rather gamble on a four-story drop than play it safe and have a life with me.

"Sir?" my guard, Elias, asked from the doorway. "She's gone. Should we-"

"Is the tail on the boyfriend in place?"

"Yes, sir. They're heading toward the city center."

My phone vibrated. I answered it, my voice flat. "I have it under control, Viktor."

"Under control?" My father's voice was heavy with a threat he rarely had to voice. "I just got word that your five-hundred-million-dollar bride is currently in a taxi, racing toward a Marriage Bureau with that pathetic boyfriend. I hope for your sake you're already behind her, Silas. I didn't pay her father's debts so you could play hide and seek."

"I said, I have it under control," I repeated, my eyes tracking the movement of the curtains.

"You let a twenty-three-year-old girl make a fool of the Blackwood name before the ink on the contract is even dry," Viktor snapped.

I clenched my jaw, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the windowsill. "I knew she'd run. I'm letting her lead me to her leverage."

"Leverage?" Viktor barked a laugh that held no humor. "She is the leverage, Silas. Have you forgotten why we're doing this?"

"I haven't forgotten," I said, my eyes fixed on the empty fire escape. "I'm the one dealing with her, not you."

"Then start thinking like a Blackwood and stop treating this like a game of cat and mouse," Viktor hissed. "The investigative journalists are already digging into the docks, and the authorities are getting too close to the shipping manifests. The regulatory boards are looking for any excuse to freeze our offshore accounts. We don't need another hostile acquisition while the press is already calling us vultures."

"I'm aware of the strategy."

"Then act like it! The Blackwood name needs a shield, not more blood. Maya is that shield. She's the perfect face for the family, innocent enough to make the public look the other way. We need a distraction, Silas. We need a wedding that makes the world forget where our money actually comes from."

"And if she doesn't play along?" I asked, watching a loose piece of trash whip across the alley below.

"You don't ask her to play along, Silas. You make it her only option," Viktor corrected sharply. "They are watching us. One wrong move and the whole house of cards comes down. We need a love story to sell to the press so they stop asking questions about our private investments."

"Viktor." I'd had enough of this.

He ignored me, cutting through my protest without missing a beat.

"Maya Sullivan is the perfect clean asset. She has no one. Her father is a broken coward and her boyfriend is a rat. She's a girl with no shadow, Silas. Once she's a Blackwood, she's our silence. If she marries that boy tonight, the narrative dies and the investigation moves closer to home and she becomes a liability we'll have to eliminate. Is that what you want?"

"Dad." My grip on the phone tightened as I looked out at the city, my eyes narrowing into slits. "She won't marry him."

"Of course she won't," Viktor said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. "Why do you think I've been paying that little rat for the last three months? Liam is exactly where he needs to be. He's been my eyes and ears on Maya since the moment her father started missing payments."

Maya was an infuriating brat, but the thought of Liam taking my father's money to lead her into a trap while pretending to be her hero made my blood boil.

One day, I'd kill him for touching what belonged to me while taking a paycheck to do it and I'd peel the skin off his back for betraying her.

"I'll handle it," I said, my voice sounding like a final warning. "And Viktor? Stay out of my business. She's mine now."

I hung up before he could answer.

"Elias," I called, turning away from the window. "Get the car. It's time."

The drive took less than twenty minutes. By the time we arrived, my security team had already cleared the hall. The double doors were flung open, and I stepped inside.

It was a pathetic sight. Maya was standing there, looking exhausted and unraveled, clutching the arm of a man who wasn't worth the breath in her lungs.

"Liam, we have to go!" she gasped, her voice thick with a panic that made my chest tighten. She tugged at him, her eyes darting toward the side exit, but she didn't realize my men had sealed the building before she even stepped out of the taxi.

But the rat didn't move.

Liam stood there, his shoulders slumped, sweat beading on his forehead. He didn't look at me with defiance. He didn't even look at her. He just slowly, deliberately, let go of her hand.

I watched the confusion flicker across Maya's face. She looked down at her empty hand, then up at the man she thought was her savior. She didn't know yet. She didn't realize she was standing next to a man who had a price tag on his loyalty and that my father had already paid it in full.

I stopped three feet away, the click of my shoes the only sound in the room. Even with her world collapsing, she looked ready to bite.

"The five minutes are up, Maya." I announced.

I stepped into her space, leaning down until my face was inches from hers. The soft scent of her jasmine perfume filled my senses, overpowering the clinical smell of the building.

Maya's lip trembled, her eyes darting to Liam, who was staring at his own shoes. "Liam?" she whispered, the word a broken plea.

I didn't give him the chance to lie to her again. I reached out, my thumb catching her chin and forcing her focus back to me.

"He's not going to help you, sweetheart," I murmured, my thumb brushing against her lower lip.

"So," I let my eyes burn into hers, stripping away the last of her illusions. "Are we going to do this the easy way, or do I need to show you what happens to girls who try to run from a Blackwood?"

I didn't wait for her to answer. I reached

out, my fingers curling firmly around her waist, claiming what was legally and now physically mine.

"Now, get in the car. We have a wedding to plan."

MAYA

I kept my eyes on the window, refusing to look at the man sitting inches away from me. My hand was cramping from how hard I was clutching my phone. I was waiting for it to buzz, for a text from Liam saying he’d called the police, a lawyer, anyone. Any sign that he hadn't just let me go.

"Give it to me."

Silas spoke, his words cutting through the quiet of the car. I didn't have to ask what he meant. I gripped the phone tighter in my lap.

"No. It’s mine.”

"In this car, and in my house, you don't have property," Silas said. He didn't raise his voice, which somehow made it scarier. "There is no 'mine' anymore. You were just caught trying to break a legal contract. You’ve proven you can’t be trusted, Maya. Hand over the phone."

"I was going to marry the man I love!" I snapped, finally turning to face him. "Something you’ll never understand.”

He just held out his hand, palm up, waiting. "Love didn't get you to that Bureau, Maya. Desperation did. And love isn't coming to get you out of this car. The phone, Maya. Now. Before I let my men take it.”

I looked at his large hand, then at the glass partition separating us from the driver. I was trapped. With a frustrated growl, I slapped the phone into his palm.

"Go ahead. Take it. I'm sure spying on girls is a Blackwood specialty," I hissed.

Silas didn't answer. He didn't even look at the screen. He just rolled down the window, the cool night air rushing into the car for a split second before he let the phone drop into the street, tossing it out like a piece of trash.

Silas didn't spare me a glance. He just stared straight ahead, sounding bored. "You won't be needing that. He isn't going to call.”

I gasped, lunging toward his side of the window as if I could catch it. “How dare you!”

He shoved me back into my seat. “Enough, Maya.”

The look in his eyes told me he was dead serious. He wasn't playing.

“You're right. I'll never understand it because I don’t marry for love,” Silas said calmly. “I marry for advantage.”

I shoved his hand, pushing him away while blinking back tears. He wasn't going to see me cry. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

"Rule number one of the next six months," he said, tugging his tie loose as the SUV pulled into a massive, circular driveway. "You don't speak to anyone from your old life. Not your father. And especially not that pussy of a boyfriend.”

Pussy? Silas was an arrogant prick, but he wasn't entirely wrong. Liam hadn't even looked me in the eye when Silas took me away.

"Liam is the only person who-"

"Liam is the person who let you walk into this car without throwing a single punch," Silas interrupted. "He’s a coward, Maya. And the sooner you realize your old world is dead, the easier this will be.”

The words stung because they were true. I wanted to scream that he was wrong, but the fight was draining out of me. He had mentioned a timeline. Six months.

“What's happening in six months?” I asked, straining to keep my voice steady.

The door opened. Silas stepped out, ignoring me as if I hadn’t spoken at all. He reached back and offered me his hand, like he actually expected me to take it.

I slapped his hand away and climbed out. I looked up and felt my breath hitch. I was in awe, despite myself. Everything about the mansion was screaming luxury. It was too much: the height, the lights, the obscene scale of it. It was beautiful, but it made my stomach flip.

What did I expect? This was Blackwood territory. I was currently in the Blackwood estate, and this was the Blackwood mansion.

A row of people in uniforms waited by the driveway, standing like statues. I assumed they were the staff. I didn't want to move, but Silas’s hand landed on the small of my back. He gave me a small, firm push, forcing me forward toward them.

An elderly man stepped forward with a slight bow. “Good evening, Mr. Blackwood.”

Silas gave a curt nod.

“And good evening, Mrs. Blackwood. I'm the head butler, Lawrence.”

Mrs. Blackwood? Hell no.

I opened my mouth to protest and set the record straight, but Silas squeezed my waist. It was a silent warning that made me gasp and shut my mouth. It was enough to make me stop. I glared at him, but he didn't even look at me.

“She's had a long day,” Silas said, ignoring my glare as he steered me toward the door. “She needs to rest.”

He didn't lead me to the grand staircase. Instead, he took me into a side study. The room was plain and small compared to the rest of the mansion. It was just a desk cluttered with papers and a wall of leather-bound books. He shut the door, finally letting go of me.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to a black chair across from his desk.

"I'm not sitting until you tell me what’s happening in six months," I demanded, crossing my arms.

Silas walked over to a sideboard and poured himself a drink. “Our engagement.”

He was still talking about a wedding? I thought it was just a scare tactic, a way to get me into the car. But looking at the way he looked while swirling his drink, I realized he was dead serious. This wasn't a threat; it was a scheduled event.

He stepped closer, the smell of bourbon trailing him. "That means no running. If I catch you trying to flee again, I’ll make sure the people you love pay for your mistakes. I'll take everything they have until they’re the ones begging me to take you back. Do you understand?”

"You're a monster," I spat.

"I'm a Blackwood," he corrected, taking a slow sip of his drink. "There’s a difference. Now sit.”

“Is there?” I shrugged and sat down, mostly because my legs were finally giving out. “Sounds like the same thing to me.” I looked around the room, trying to find a way out of this conversation. “What about your parents? When do I get to meet them?”

I thought maybe there would be a reasonable adult in this house to talk some sense into him.

“You mean my father, Viktor. You won't be thrilled to meet him.” He paused, his gaze drifting to the empty fireplace. “My mother is dead.”

“Oh.” I looked down at my hands, tucking my fingers into my palms to hide the fact that they were shaking.

“Was that the reason?” I whispered. “The apartment. Did you let me go because you understood?”

Guilt hit me. I’d used my own dead mother as a weapon to get away from him, a lie I’d crafted in desperation. But hearing the truth of his own loss made my chest feel tight.

“Don’t look for sentiment where there is none,” he replied. He looked back at me, his gaze completely empty of any warmth. “I let you go because I wanted to meet your pussy of a boyfriend to scare him off.”

Of course. For a second, I’d actually mistaken him for a human being. I rolled my eyes, the brief sympathy I felt dying instantly. Just when I thought he might actually have a heart, he went and proved me wrong.

"You really have to stop ca-”

“Enough of the dramatics. Let's discuss your new life.” He cut me off, setting his glass down with a heavy thud. The sound echoed in the small room, effectively silencing me.

Asshole.

“And if I'd rather have my old one back?”

“That ship has sailed, Maya,” he countered. “I need a hell of a distraction, and you’re going to provide it. Your day job will be as my assistant at the company.”

“A distraction? An assistant?” I blinked, the absurdity of it finally hitting me. “Does this kidnapping and nightmare come with a salary?”

Silas paused, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been amusement or perhaps disbelief. He looked at me as if I were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. "You're being held in one of the most expensive estates in the country, and you're worried about a paycheck?”

Did he really think I’d work for free?

"If I'm forced to be your assistant, I want a salary. A high one," I said, leaning back.

He nodded slowly. “You're taking this better than I expected.”

Like I had a fucking choice?

“Let’s discuss your new life,” I mimicked, pitching my voice low and mocking to match his, just to see if I could get on his nerves. “That ship has sailed, Maya.”

If he wanted a puppet, he picked the one with tangled strings and a mind of its own. I’d make him wish he’d left me in that apartment with the boyfriend he hated so much.

He sighed, looking more tired than annoyed. “Yes, Maya, you'll get a salary.”

Just like that? He agreed? I felt a flicker of surprise, but I wasn't about to let it show. Part of me expected him to laugh in my face, which only made me wonder what the catch was. There was always a catch with a man like him.

“Every two weeks,” I added, narrowing my eyes. I was testing the waters, pushing the boundary just to see where it would break. I sat there, braced and waiting for him to snap or tell me I was pushing my luck.

He raised an eyebrow. “Every two weeks. Direct deposit. I’ll even throw in a dental plan if it’ll make you shut your mouth."

I let out a scoff. "A dental plan? How generous of my kidnapper.”

“Don’t mistake my flexibility for weakness, Maya," he warned. "You’re here to do a job, and I expect you to do it well.”

He didn't blink as he laid out the timeline. “Public dates, vacations, a proposal in six months, and a marriage in a year. I need the world to believe I’m madly in love with you.”

There it was. A distraction. That's all I was, and my life was reduced to a PR stunt.

“You mean madly insane,” I mumbled. “But sure, let’s go with love.”

“I’m letting the attitude slide for tonight because you're exhausted. But don’t make it a habit. You will not speak to me like that, not here, and never in public.”

He leaned forward, running a hand through his hair, his gaze never leaving my face. “Don’t be a fool. This house doesn't tolerate reckless voices. You aren't safe enough to be this brave. In this family, you are compliant, or you are a target.”

MAYA

“Should I be shaking? Because between the kidnapping and the fake wedding, I’m all out of fear.”

“You should be.” He pointed a finger at me, then at himself. “You’re looking at the man holding the leash, Maya, but you haven’t seen the dogs yet. Marriage to me is the only thing that keeps you from being torn apart by this family.”

“Is that your version of a fairy tale? You’re the hero now?” I stood up, my chair scraping harshly on the floor. “I don’t need a savior, especially not one who buys people. If I’m in a cage, Silas, you’re the one I’m going to bite first.”

He slowly stood up and walked around the desk toward me. He stopped just inches away, his eyes lit up in a way that made me nervous.

"Careful, Maya. I might enjoy the bite."

He looked back down at his drink, a smirk appearing on his face as he stepped away. "You have plenty of fire. Let's see if it's still burning when you meet my father.”

The smirk vanished as quickly as it appeared. I wondered how bad his father could actually be. After everything that had happened today, I didn't think there was anything left that could shock me. I doubted the man could be any worse than Silas, but the day wasn't over yet.

I still had questions. I wanted to push his buttons. “Why me, Silas?” I crossed my arms. “Did you just throw a dart at a list of debtors and decide I was the lucky winner?”

Silas took a seat. “You were available. And you were a guaranteed yes the moment your father ran out of options.”

“Charming. You really know how to make a girl feel special.” I rolled my eyes. “But you’re wrong. My father had a very clear option. He could have gone to jail. He just chose me instead.”

“You're right.” He nodded. “But survival is a powerful motivator, Maya. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

Motivator, my ass.

“I would never have done that to him,” I snapped. “So tell me the truth. Why the fake girlfriend act for six months before the wedding?”

He set his drink on the desk. “The media calls my family a nest of vultures. You? You look like you rescue kittens and cry at sunsets. You’re a clean slate, Maya. A distraction.”

"Bullshit," I mumbled under my breath.

He didn't even have to look at me to know I wasn't buying it. Getting married for a headline? Please. A Blackwood wouldn't sign a multi-million dollar contract just to fix a reputation. There was more to this, and I was going to find out what.

"Bull-" He glared at me, his eyes narrowing.

"Is there a will?" I cut him off. "Do you need a wife to fully take the company from your father? Or are you afraid someone else is coming for your throne?”

“That's it, Maya. No more questions. Just try not to look like you're planning my murder while we're in public.”

Fine. I'll let it go for now.

“I’ll try, but I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you,” I replied. My thoughts were racing. “What happens after the wedding?”

“We live together. A penthouse, an estate, it’s all the same. It doesn't matter. You’ll be wherever I am.”

"No, I mean what really happens?” I clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking. “What is my actual role when the cameras are off? Do you expect me to sleep with you? To have your children?”

“Now you're asking the right questions.” Silas let his gaze linger on my lips. “The children don’t have to happen on day one, but I’m always down for the practice.” He swirled the drink in his glass, watching me. “And while we’re at it, you can practice calling me Daddy. You’ll find it suits me much better than Mr. Blackwood.”

He was absolutely unhinged. Was he expecting me to blush?

"Is there an expiration date on this?" I asked. I needed to change the subject before I lost my nerve. "Or is this forever?”

“We’ll discuss your next contract when the timing is right. Not before.” Silas didn't even look up. “Until then, the terms stay exactly as they are.”

“You’ll consider letting me go?” I scoffed, the anger bubbling up. “You’ll use me until there’s nothing left, and then you'll toss me aside.”

“You can file for divorce when your role is done,” he said, the glass clinking against the bottle as he poured himself another. “But let’s be clear. If there are children, they belong to this family. They are Blackwoods. They stay. You go.”

They stay. You go. The words echoed in my head, cruel and absolute.

A shiver raced down my spine, but I refused to let him see it. He said it so calmly, like he was discussing my future children as collateral in a business deal rather than human lives. He was no different than my father. They both used people to settle their debts.

He wasn’t just talking about a marriage; he was talking about a harvest. I looked at his handsome face and felt a wave of nausea. I would never let him touch me. I would never bring a child into this world just to have it ripped away from me.

In that moment, the reality of Silas Blackwood hit me. He didn't love. He possessed. He was telling me that if I ever became a mother, I’d be nothing more than an incubator. A temporary guest in my own children's lives. I’d die before I gave him an heir to lock in a cage next to mine.

Silas took the last sip of his drink. “But hold onto that hope. It’ll give you something to do while you’re settling in.”

I stood up and moved toward him, a retort on the tip of my tongue to tell him exactly where he could shove his hope, but the study door flew open without a knock.

A redhead stepped in like she owned the place. She was stunning. All legs, silk, and a perfume so sharp it made my eyes water. She didn't even look at me as she walked toward Silas. She brushed past, her shoulder slamming into mine with such force that I stumbled and lost my balance, my hands hitting the cold floor.

She didn't acknowledge the collision or apologize. She didn't even turn around. To her, I was just a piece of furniture in her way.

This bitch.

“Isabella,” Silas breathed, without sparing me a glance on the floor.

"Silas, darling," she cooed, her voice a seductive purr.

Isabella wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a deep, lingering kiss. It was possessive. A claim.

Silas didn't pull away, but he didn't move, either. He stayed perfectly still, not even looking over her shoulder to acknowledge I was still in the room. I stayed frozen on the floor, watching him accept her mouth like it was just another part of his evening routine, while the ink on my life’s contract was still wet.