The dining room was a cavernous space, dominated by a long mahogany table that could seat twenty. The silence was heavy, broken only by the scrape of silver against fine china.

Kelsie sat at the far end, next to her mother. Her stepfather, Arthur, was absent, likely too weak to leave his bed today. Across from her sat Sloane, Cornelius's younger sister, looking every bit the heiress in cashmere and pearls.

At the head of the table sat Silas Wilder, the patriarch, reading the Wall Street Journal. And to his right, Cornelius.

"Who is that?" Grandma Rose asked suddenly. Her voice was loud and scratchy. She pointed a trembling finger directly at Kelsie. "Silas, dear, who is this young woman? I don't believe I recognize her from the household staff."

Kelsie froze, her fork hovering halfway to her mouth.

Sloane let out a short, sharp laugh. She reached over and patted the old woman's hand. "That's not staff, Grandma. That's Kelsie. You remember? Joanne's daughter."

"Oh," Grandma Rose said, her eyes clouding over. "The girl who came with her. I see."

Heat flooded Kelsie's cheeks. She looked down at her plate, focusing on the scrambled eggs. Beside her, Joanne kept her head down, sawing methodically at a sausage link, pretending she hadn't heard.

Cornelius took a sip of his black coffee. He didn't look up. He didn't defend her. He just turned the page of a file he was reading.

Silas folded his newspaper and cleared his throat. The table instantly went still.

"The merger with the Kerr banking division is moving into the final stages," Silas announced, his voice gravelly. "It is imperative that we solidify the alliance."

Cornelius set his cup down. "It's handled, Father. I spoke with Emerald last night. I have formally proposed an engagement."

The world stopped. The buzzing in Kelsie's ears drowned out the room.

Engagement.

Her hand went numb. The heavy silver fork slipped from her fingers and clattered loudly onto the porcelain plate. The sound was deafening in the quiet room.

Every head turned toward her.

"Problem, Kelsie?" Sloane asked, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "You look like you've seen a ghost. This is great news for the family. Unless you're not happy for your brother?"

Kelsie felt Cornelius's gaze on her then. It was heavy, physical. She forced her hand to move, to pick up the fork, though her fingers were trembling.

"No," Kelsie managed to choke out. "I just... slipped. Congratulations, Cornelius. It's wonderful news."

"Thank you, Kelsie," Cornelius said. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "Emerald is a suitable match."

Joanne immediately launched into a nervous monologue about how beautiful the wedding would be, trying to fill the awkward air. Sloane started listing potential venues, asking if Kelsie would be willing to help address envelopes since she "had so much free time."

"Kelsie is busy," Cornelius cut in. His tone was sharp enough to silence the table. "She has interviews to prepare for."

"Interviews?" Sloane scoffed. "For what? Who's going to hire her? Unless you wrote a letter, Cornelius?"

Cornelius ignored his sister. He stood up, buttoning his jacket. "I have to get to the office."

He walked down the length of the table. As he passed behind Kelsie's chair, the room was filled with the noise of Sloane and Joanne chattering. Cornelius paused for a fraction of a second. His hand brushed the back of her chair, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. In the polished reflection of a silver serving dish on the sideboard, their eyes met for a fleeting, chilling moment. His gaze was not a question. It was an instruction.

Kelsie stiffened, her breath hitching. He had just announced his engagement. He had just sold himself to another woman. And now he was demanding entry?

He didn't wait for a response. He kept walking, exiting the room without looking back.

Kelsie felt sick. She pushed her plate away, the food turning to ash in her mouth. She excused herself and practically ran out of the room, through the French doors and into the garden. She pulled out her phone, her thumb hovering over her best friend Ainsley's contact, but she didn't call. What could she say? My stepbrother is marrying an heiress and still wants to sleep with me?

She looked at the notification on her screen. CNN Business: Wilder-Kerr Alliance Solidified by Engagement.

She gripped the phone until her knuckles turned white. Tonight, she decided. Tonight, the door would stay locked.

The bass from Sloane's stereo thumped through the floorboards. Kelsie sat at her small desk, her hands pressed over her ears, trying to memorize case law for the interview. It was hopeless.

There was a soft knock on the door. Aunt Beatrice poked her head in. She was the only Wilder who treated Kelsie with anything resembling kindness, though it was often laced with pity.

"Kelsie, dear," Beatrice said, stepping inside. She placed a document on the desk. "I was speaking with Silas. There's an opening in the archives department at Wilder Corp. It's mostly filing, but the pay is steady. We think it would be... good for you."

Kelsie looked at the paper. Junior Archivist. It was a pity job. A way to keep her quiet and fed in the basement of the family empire.

"Aunt Beatrice, I graduated Summa Cum Laude from Yale Law," Kelsie said, her voice tight. "I'm not looking for filing work."

"Oh, look at her," a voice drawled from the doorway. Sloane leaned against the frame, holding a glass of champagne. "Too good for the family charity?"

"Sloane, please," Beatrice murmured.

"No, let's be real," Sloane walked into the room, looking around with distaste. "Your family didn't exactly summer in the Hamptons before your mother met Arthur. You should be happy we're offering you a place under this roof at all."

Kelsie stood up, snatching the application and shoving it back toward Beatrice. "I don't need your charity. I have an interview with Sterling & Associates tomorrow."

Sloane froze. Then she threw her head back and laughed. "Sterling & Associates? You? Oh, honey. That's the shark tank. You're a guppy." She took a sip of champagne, her eyes narrowing. "How did you even get in the door? Let me guess. Cornelius pulled some strings, didn't he? We all know how you get him to feel sorry for you."

Kelsie's heart skipped a beat. She had applied anonymously, but the doubt wormed its way in. Had he?

"Cornelius is a businessman," Kelsie said, channeling as much ice as she could. "He wouldn't risk his reputation doing favors for me."

"Right," Sloane sneered. "Just remember, when they chew you up and spit you out, the archive job will be gone." She turned to leave. "Oh, and try not to wear that polyester rag you have on. It smells like desperation."

Beatrice gave Kelsie a sad, apologetic look and followed Sloane out.

Kelsie sank back into her chair. Her hands were shaking. She looked at her closet. Sloane was right about one thing; her suits were old. Threadbare.

Her phone buzzed. An email from Sterling & Associates. Interview Confirmation: 9:00 AM.

She looked at the black card still sitting on her nightstand where she had dumped it. It gleamed under the lamp light. It was a leash. If she used it, she was admitting she needed him. That she was exactly what Sloane said she was.

She grabbed her purse and dug out her own debit card. She had savings. Not much, but enough.

She drove to the mall, bypassing the designer boutiques Cornelius frequented. She went to a department store, finding a navy suit on the clearance rack. It fit well enough. It was clean. It was hers.

On the drive back, her phone rang. It was Arthur.

"Kelsie?" His voice was weak, raspy. "How are you, sweetie?"

"I'm fine, Arthur. Just preparing for a big interview."

"That's my girl," he wheezed. "Listen, don't worry about the hospital bills. I know the co-pay is high this month, but..."

"I have it covered," Kelsie lied, her stomach twisting. "Don't worry about money. Just get better."

She hung up, the weight of the lie pressing down on her lungs. She needed this job. She needed to be independent. She needed to get out of this house before it suffocated her.

The engine of Kelsie's ten-year-old Honda sputtered and died. She turned the key again. Nothing. Just a hollow click.

"No, no, no," she pleaded, hitting the steering wheel. It was 8:15 AM. Her interview was at 9:00. The estate was miles from the main road; an Uber would take twenty minutes just to get to the gate.

A sleek black Maybach pulled up beside her dead car. The rear window rolled down silently.

Cornelius sat in the back, reading a tablet. He didn't look at her. "Get in."

"I can call a cab," Kelsie said, gripping her bag.

"You'll be late," he said simply. "Get in, Kelsie."

She didn't have a choice. She opened the door and slid onto the leather seat, pressing herself as far against the door as possible, leaving a foot of space between them.

"Drive," Cornelius ordered the partition.

The car glided forward. The silence in the cabin was thick, charged with the electricity of the previous night and the coldness of the morning.

Cornelius's phone rang through the car's Bluetooth system. The dashboard screen flashed: Emerald.

Cornelius pressed a button on the armrest. "Good morning, Em."

His voice shifted instantly. It became warm, attentive, the voice of a loving fiancé.

"Corny!" Emerald's voice filled the car, shrill and excited. "I'm looking at ring settings. Do you prefer the cushion cut or the emerald cut? Pun intended."

"Whatever makes you happy," Cornelius said smoothly. "Budget isn't an issue. Get the one you want."

As he spoke, his hand moved across the leather seat. He didn't touch her. Instead, he placed his polished black phone on the seat between them, a silent, impassable object that seemed to pin her against the door. He had claimed the space, and by extension, her.

Kelsie flinched, trying to shrink even further into the door.

"You're the best," Emerald cooed through the speakers. "I miss you. Are you busy?"

"Just heading to the office," Cornelius said, his thumb stroking the smooth case of his phone, a stark contrast to the tension he was creating. "I have a meeting."

Kelsie stared at him, wide-eyed. He was looking straight ahead, his face impassive, talking about wedding rings with another woman while holding her captive in this small, silent space. It was twisted. It was sick.

"Okay, I'll let you go. Love you!" Emerald said.

"Goodbye, Emerald."

The call ended. Cornelius picked up his phone immediately, as if the space between them no longer mattered. He picked up his tablet again.

"Make sure you mention the tort reform paper you wrote in your second year," he said, not looking at her. "Buckley likes that niche."

Kelsie rubbed her arm, the ghost of his proximity still burning. "I don't need your cheat codes."

"Don't blow it," he said.

The car stopped in front of the glass skyscraper. Kelsie got out without a word, her legs shaking.

The interview was a blur. The partners were intense, firing questions rapidly, but they seemed to know who she was. At the end, J.C. Buckley shook her hand. "Your academic record is impressive, Ms. Washington. We expect great things. We'll be in touch."

She walked out feeling a mix of triumph and suspicion. Had she nailed it? Or had the fix been in from the start?

Her phone rang. It was the hospital. Arthur had taken a turn.

She rushed to the hospital, her heels clicking frantically on the linoleum. When she reached the waiting room, she found Sloane there, flanked by two family security guards.

"There she is," Sloane announced loudly. " The devoted daughter."

"Is he okay?" Kelsie asked, breathless.

Sloane stepped forward, lunging at her with such venom that Kelsie stumbled back instinctively, her elbow scraping against the rough plaster wall.

"Where were you?" Sloane hissed. "Dad was asking for you for an hour. He was scared, Kelsie. And you were out... what? Shopping?"

"I was working!" Kelsie yelled back, clutching her throbbing elbow. "I was getting a job to pay for his treatment!"

"We pay for his treatment!" Sloane shouted. "The Wilders pay for everything! You are just a leech!"

Sloane raised her hand as if to strike her, but a nurse stepped out. "Security! Keep it down or leave!"

Sloane lowered her hand, her eyes flashing with malice. She stepped close to Kelsie, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Stay away from Cornelius. I see the way you look at him. If you think you can ruin this merger, I will make sure every door in this city is slammed in your face. You will be nothing."