The sudden silence in the bathroom was deafening. Chloe grabbed a large white towel from the rack. She pulled open the bathroom door and ran down the short hallway into the master bedroom.

She threw the towel onto a chair, scrambled into the massive bed, and pulled the heavy duvet up to her chin. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced her chest to rise and fall in a slow, even rhythm.

The heavy front door of the penthouse swung open. Julian Kensington III stepped into the entryway, bringing the cold, sharp energy of a Wall Street boardroom with him. He reached up, loosened his silk tie, and tossed it onto the leather sofa. His dark eyes swept across the empty living room. A deep crease formed between his brows.

He pulled his phone from his suit pocket. The screen was blank. Chloe had not replied to the message he sent three hours ago.

A familiar, dark irritation flared in his chest. He adjusted his cuffs, his jaw tightening. He walked down the hallway, his leather shoes sinking into the thick carpet, muting his heavy footsteps.

He pushed open the double doors of the master bedroom. The room was dim, the curtains drawn. He saw the small lump under the covers in the center of the bed.

The rigid line of his jaw relaxed slightly. He walked to the side of the bed and stood over her, his tall frame casting a long shadow.

Chloe felt the mattress dip under his weight. The scent of expensive cedar cologne mixed with faint cigar smoke washed over her. Her stomach churned.

She gripped the edge of the duvet under the covers, her knuckles turning white, fighting the urge to tremble.

Julian reached out. His long, cool fingers brushed a strand of blonde hair away from her cheek.

The sudden contact sent a shock of cold through her skin. Chloe flinched, her shoulders shrinking away from his hand.

Julian's hand paused in mid-air. His eyes narrowed. He leaned down, his face inches from hers. His breath, warm and smelling of mint, brushed her ear.

"Sweetheart," he said, his voice low and testing.

Chloe knew she could not pretend anymore. She fluttered her eyelashes and opened her eyes, blinking as if disoriented. "Julian?" she murmured, keeping her voice hoarse.

Julian did not smile. He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up. His gaze was sharp, dissecting her expression. "Why didn't you answer my text?"

Chloe swallowed the dry lump in her throat. "I was dizzy. I didn't feel well. I've been sleeping."

At the words 'didn't feel well', a dark, intense light flared in Julian's eyes. His gaze dropped from her face to the thick duvet covering her stomach.

He released her chin. His large hand moved down, resting flat against her abdomen through the blankets. He rubbed his thumb in a slow, deliberate circle. The gesture was terrifyingly possessive.

The nausea hit Chloe again, violent and sudden. She shoved his hand away and bolted upright, scrambling back against the headboard.

Julian's hand hung in the empty space. The temperature in the room plummeted. His face turned to stone, his eyes turning black with immediate, cold fury.

Chloe realized her mistake. She clamped both hands over her mouth. "Acid reflux," she gasped through her fingers. "My stomach is burning."

Julian stared at her for a long, suffocating moment. The muscle in his jaw ticked. He slowly lowered his hand and turned away, walking toward the walk-in closet.

Chloe let out a shaky breath, her chest heaving. A thin layer of cold sweat coated her forehead.

A few minutes later, Julian emerged wearing dark cashmere loungewear. He stopped at the foot of the bed. "Get up. Go to the dining room. It is time for dinner."

Chloe shook her head, pressing her back harder against the headboard. "I really don't have an appetite. I just want to sleep."

Julian did not move. His voice dropped an octave, carrying a quiet, absolute authority. "Do not make me angry tonight, Chloe."

The threat hung in the air, heavy and real. Chloe's defiance crumbled. She slowly pushed the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her limbs felt like lead.

The corner of Julian's mouth lifted in a cold smile. He closed the distance between them, wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, and pulled her against his side. Her body was stiff as a board, but he ignored it, steering her out of the bedroom.

They walked down the hallway together. The silence between them was thick, vibrating with unspoken tension.

They entered the dining room. The butler stood quietly in the corner. The long mahogany table was set. The silver cutlery gleamed under the crystal chandelier.

Julian pulled out the heavy mahogany chair at the side of the table. He looked at Chloe, a silent command in his eyes.

Chloe moved stiffly. She sat down. The butler lifted the silver cloche in front of her. The rich, heavy scent of garlic butter escargot and thick cream of mushroom soup hit her face. Her stomach seized in a violent cramp.

Julian took his seat at the head of the table. He picked up his crystal wine glass, took a slow sip of the dark red liquid, and watched her. He waited for her to lean over and offer the customary kiss of gratitude.

Chloe kept her head down. The smell of the cream was suffocating. She gripped the handle of her silver fork until her fingers ached, staring at the white tablecloth.

Julian lowered his glass. He set it down on the table with a sharp, hard crack.

Chloe jumped in her seat. She looked up, her eyes wide, meeting his dark, furious stare.

"Have you forgotten how to please me?" Julian asked, his voice like ice.

Chloe bit the inside of her cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I really can't eat this. I have no appetite."

Julian pushed his chair back. He stood up, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the table. He walked slowly around the edge until he stood directly behind her chair.

He placed both hands on the back of her chair, leaning over her. His presence was a physical weight pressing down on her shoulders.

He reached over her shoulder and picked up her silver soup spoon. He dipped it into the bowl, scooping up a thick portion of the mushroom cream. He held it right in front of her lips.

The smell of dairy and earth filled her nose. Chloe turned her face away, pressing her lips tightly together.

Julian's left hand shot out. He gripped her jaw, his fingers digging into her skin, and forced her head back to face forward.

"Eat it," he said softly, his breath hot against her temple. "Or tomorrow morning, the funds in your father's medical account will be frozen."

The threat hit her like a physical blow. Her father was lying in a facility, dependent on that money to survive. Chloe's eyes instantly filled with tears. Her resistance shattered.

Her lips trembled as she opened her mouth. She took the spoonful of soup.

The thick, rich liquid slid onto her tongue. Her gag reflex kicked in immediately. She slapped her hand over her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks, and forced herself to swallow. It felt like swallowing poison.

Julian released her jaw. He walked back to his seat and sat down. "Finish the bowl."

Chloe picked up her spoon. Her movements were robotic. She scooped the soup, brought it to her mouth, and swallowed. Tears dripped off her chin and landed silently on her lap. Every bite was torture.

Julian watched her eat. The tight lines of anger around his mouth slowly smoothed out. A dark, twisted satisfaction settled in his eyes as he watched her submit.

Halfway through the bowl, her stomach violently rebelled. Chloe dropped the spoon. It clattered against the bowl. She clamped both hands over her mouth, shoved her chair back, and ran toward the hallway bathroom.

She fell to her knees in front of the toilet and vomited. Everything she had just forced down came back up.

Julian strode into the bathroom a moment later. He stood in the doorway, his brow deeply furrowed as he watched her heave.

He walked to the sink, filled a glass with warm water, and crouched beside her. He held the glass out. "What is wrong with you?" he asked, a tight edge of genuine tension in his voice.

Chloe took the glass with shaking hands. She rinsed her mouth and spit. She leaned her head back against the cool tile wall. "I think the seafood from lunch was bad," she lied, her voice weak.

Julian's eyes narrowed. He did not believe her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen.

Chloe saw the contact name. Dr. Thorne. Panic surged through her. She lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. "No. Please. Don't call him. I just need to lie down. Don't make a fuss."

Julian looked down at her hand wrapped around his wrist. Her skin was freezing cold and trembling violently. He turned his hand over and gripped her wrist, his thumb pressing into her racing pulse.

He stared into her pale face for a long second. He locked his phone and shoved it back into his pocket. He bent down, slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and lifted her into the air.

He carried her down the hall and into the bedroom. He laid her on the mattress and pulled the duvet up to her chin.

He turned and walked into the master bathroom. Chloe heard the water turn on in the sink. She closed her eyes, the darkness offering no comfort. She knew the lie would not hold much longer.