The two bodyguards shoved Danielle through the massive front doors of the Stuart manor.

Danielle stumbled forward. Her sneakers caught on the edge of the marble step, and she crashed hard onto her knees on the cold, polished floor. Pain shot up her legs, but she kept her head down, her shoulders shaking violently.

Constance Stuart, the matriarch of the family, sat on a velvet sofa in the center of the grand hall. She held a porcelain teacup, her posture rigid and aristocratic.

Tierney marched past Danielle, her heels clicking sharply against the marble. "Grandmother, look at what the Roy family sent us. She spent her wedding night in a hotel with a disgusting old man."

Constance slowly lowered her teacup. Her cold, gray eyes locked onto Danielle.

Tierney leaned down and violently ripped the collar of Danielle's sweater sideways.

Under the harsh, bright light of the crystal chandelier, the dark, angry hickeys on Danielle's neck and collarbone were fully exposed.

The maids and butlers standing around the perimeter of the hall gasped, exchanging shocked whispers.

Constance's face turned purple with rage. Her hands gripped the armrests of the sofa. "The Roy family sent us a shameless tramp," she spat. "She has violated the morality clause of the prenuptial agreement. Throw her out into the street immediately."

Danielle kept her head bowed. She bit her lower lip, letting her tears fall onto the marble floor. But beneath the curtain of her hair, her brain was running complex calculations. She needed to stay in this house.

The two bodyguards stepped forward, grabbing her arms to drag her out.

Danielle suddenly exploded into motion. She let out a raw, guttural wail from the back of her throat. She thrashed wildly, twisting her body with surprising strength.

She broke free from their grip and scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees. She threw her arms around the base of a massive marble pillar near the hallway leading to the medical wing. She locked her fingers together, refusing to let go.

"Grab that lunatic!" Tierney shrieked.

Danielle clung to the pillar. She raised one trembling hand and pointed frantically down the hallway toward the medical wing.

Constance frowned, her anger momentarily replaced by confusion. "What is the mute trying to say?"

Danielle, seeing they didn't understand, let out a frantic, silent scream. She lunged forward, her fingers desperately grabbing the hem of Constance's expensive skirt. She dipped her trembling fingers into the tears streaming down her own cheeks and frantically drew the shape of a massive bed on the polished marble floor. She pointed at the drawing, then raised her hands above her head, mimicking a very tall, broad-shouldered man. Then, she pointed violently at the hickeys on her own neck, and pointed back to the medical wing.

The entire grand hall fell dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.

Tierney let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Are you insane? Are you trying to blame this on my brother? He's in a coma!"

Danielle shook her head violently. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. She pointed at the medical wing again, her finger jabbing the air.

Constance's heart skipped a beat. A wild, impossible thought crossed her mind. What if Deforest had woken up?

Constance stood up so fast her teacup rattled. "Bring her," she ordered, her voice trembling slightly. She walked quickly toward the medical wing.

The bodyguards peeled Danielle off the pillar. They dragged her by the arms, following Constance and Tierney down the long corridor.

Danielle let her feet drag on the carpet. She kept her head down, but a cold, calculated gleam flashed in her eyes. Step one was complete.

They stopped in front of the heavy wooden doors of the master bedroom. The truth was waiting inside.

Several hours before the household stirred, Deforest had returned. His drive back from the city had been cold and precise, the cloud hairpin a sharp weight in his pocket. He bypassed the main gates, using a service entrance known only to the groundskeepers, and entered the medical wing like a ghost. Dr. Kline, still nursing his bruised wrist and the memory of Deforest's threat, was easy to coerce into silence and cooperation. Under Deforest's icy supervision, the doctor reattached the discarded monitors and procured a fresh oxygen mask, terror ensuring his efficiency. Once the stage was set, Deforest lay back on the bed, his body still, but his mind a predator's, patiently waiting. He would play the coma patient, observe the family's machinations, and find the woman who carried the scent of vanilla.

Constance gestured sharply to the bodyguards. "Open it."

The bodyguards pushed the heavy double doors open.

The master bedroom was dim, lit only by the blinking lights of the medical equipment. The room smelled strongly of bleach and sterile cotton.

Everyone crowded into the doorway, holding their breath as they looked at the massive bed.

Deforest lay perfectly still under the covers. The oxygen mask was strapped securely over his nose and mouth. His chest rose and fell in a slow, mechanical rhythm.

The heart monitor beeped steadily. Beep. Beep. Beep. Nothing had changed.

Tierney let out a loud, triumphant sneer. "See? I told you. She's a lying, cheating whore trying to cover her tracks."

Constance's face darkened with absolute fury. She felt humiliated for believing a mute's pantomime. She turned to the bodyguards. "Throw her out. Now."

The bodyguards reached for Danielle's shoulders.

Danielle stared at the bed. She noticed the slight tension in Deforest's jaw. She noticed his hands, hidden under the blanket, were clenched into fists. He was faking it. He hated the family's control, and he was playing possum to avoid them.

Right as the bodyguard's fingers brushed her sweater, Danielle ripped herself away.

She launched herself forward like a missile. She sprinted across the room so fast no one had time to react.

She threw her entire body onto the bed. She landed hard on top of Deforest, her hands gripping his broad shoulders like a vice. She pressed her face right up against his oxygen mask, her weight fully crushing his chest.

Underneath her, Deforest felt the sudden, heavy impact. The smell of cheap hotel soap and rain assaulted his nose.

Deforest had extreme mysophobia. He violently despised being touched by anyone, let alone a stranger crushing him.

His control snapped. The veins in his forehead bulged against his skin.

His eyes flew open, burning with raw, murderous rage.

Deforest ripped his arm out from under the blanket. He struck out, his heavy forearm slamming into Danielle's chest.

He threw her off him with terrifying force.

Danielle flew backward. She crashed hard onto the thick carpet, letting out a sharp gasp as the wind was knocked out of her lungs. She curled into a tight ball, clutching her ribs.

The entire room froze in absolute shock.

Deforest ripped the oxygen mask off his face and threw it at the wall. He sat up, his chest heaving, his eyes glaring at the crowd in the doorway.

Constance slapped both hands over her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes. "Deforest... you're awake."

Tierney took a step back, her face pale. She stared at her brother's massive, tense muscles. He didn't look sick. He looked like a monster.

Deforest ignored his family. His furious gaze locked onto Danielle, who was shivering on the floor.

He brushed his hands aggressively over his pajama shirt, as if trying to scrub away a disease she had infected him with.

"Get this disgusting freak out of my sight," Deforest snarled, his voice vibrating with disgust.

Danielle kept her face buried in her knees, trembling violently. She played the role of the terrified, abused wife perfectly.

But hidden in the shadows of her arms, the corners of her mouth twitched. She had won. The crisis was averted.

Constance rushed to the bed, completely forgetting about the hickeys and the hotel.

The bodyguards grabbed Danielle by the arms, hauling her up from the floor, preparing to drag her away.