4

The click of my stilettos against the polished marble floor sounded like gunfire in the silent corridor. I kept my chin high, my spine a rigid line of defiance, and my gaze fixed forward. I didn’t look at the employees who paused their conversations to stare, nor did I acknowledge the whispers that followed me like a foul scent, I was on a mission and I was going to achieve it no matter what.

When I reached his office, I didn't knock I just threw open the heavy mahogany door, the crash echoing against the glass wall.

Lucas didn't even look up from his tablet when I entered, instead he sat behind his desk looking calm and relaxed as though he hadn’t caused a scandal.

"Take it down, Lucas." I said, my voice didn't shake, though my heart hammered against my ribs.

At my words, he finally shifted his gaze, those dark eyes scanning me with a clinical boredom that made my skin crawl.

"You're late for your appointment, Eva. I expected you ten minutes ago."

"I don't give a damn about your schedule. Take down the missing person report. Now. The entire city thinks I’ve been kidnapped or suffered a breakdown, and I won't have my reputation dragged through the mud because you wanted to play a game of psychological warfare."

"Reputation is a fragile thing, isn't it? It's a shame you're so concerned with yours when you've spent the last week hiding in a hole like a frightened rabbit." Lucas said leaning back as his lips curled into a slow predatory smirk. He looked at me not as a wife, but as a piece of property.

"I want a divorce," I snapped, stepping closer to the desk. "You want Heidi. You love Heidi, you always have and always will. Let me go, and you can spend the rest of your life in her bed without having to pretend you care about me."

The second the words left my mouth, the smirk vanished and the air in the room shifted, growing heavy and suffocating. Lucas stood up and walked around the desk each step more intimidating than the last till he stopped inches from me, the scent of his expensive cologne clashing with the metallic tang of my fear.

"You seem to have forgotten your place, dearest wife."

He reached out, his fingers gripping my jaw with so much force I knew he’d leave a bruise. He didn't shake me, but the stillness of his grip was more terrifying than a slap.

"You are my wife. You breathe because I allow it. You wear those clothes because I paid for them. And you will give me an heir and stay in this marriage till I say otherwise. Your sole purpose is to belong to me. You are the vessel for the Xavier legacy, nothing more."

"I will never give you a child," I hissed, trying to pull away.

"Then you'll learn what happens when you become useless to me."

He released me with a shove that sent me stumbling back. As I regained my balance, the door opened again and in walked a man in a charcoal suit carrying a leather briefcase. Marcus,

"The paperwork is ready, Lucas," Marcus said, his voice a flat drone. He was Lucas's lead counsel, a man whose soul had been replaced by billable hours.

"Explain the situation to my wife. She seems to have forgotten the reality of her existence." Lucas gestured toward me with a flick of his wrist.

Marcus opened the briefcase and laid out a series of documents on the desk.

"If you pursue a divorce, Mrs. Xavier, firstly, the trust funds for your niece and nephew. The tuition for their boarding schools is paid through the Xavier estate. A divorce filing triggers a morality clause. They will be pulled from their institutions within forty-eight hours."

The breath left my lungs. My niece and nephew were the only things I truly loved in this hollow life. The thought of them being cast out, their futures ruined because of my pride, felt like a physical blow to the stomach.

"And your father's company," Marcus continued, his voice devoid of any emotion as always. "The loans Lucas has been covering for the last three years total nearly forty million dollars. Upon your separation, those loans become due immediately. Your family doesn't have the liquidity therefore bankruptcy is the only outcome. Your parents will lose their home and every other asset the banks can get their hands on. They will be out on the street by the end of the month with nothing."

The information was too much, and it felt the walls of the office were closing in. The glass windows that once looked beautiful now felt like the walls of a cage. I felt trapped and the man that had I sold my freedom to was watching me, his expression one of smug triumph. He knew exactly which buttons to press, he had spent years learning my weaknesses just so he could use them against me when the time was right—and this was it.

"You're a monster," I whispered.

"I'm a businessman, darling. And right now, you're looking like a bad investment.” He stated proudly. “So be a good little wife, give me a son, and perhaps I'll continue to keep your family afloat."

The confidence I had entered with shattered into a thousand pieces, the first sob broke through my throat and I knew I couldn't stay in that room for another second so I turned and bolted. The hallway blurred, the lights overhead turning into streaks of white as tears flooded my vision but I didn't care who saw me as I sprinted out of the office.

I rounded a corner too fast, and slammed into a hard, muscular chest. The impact nearly knocked me off my feet, but a pair of strong arms clamped around my waist, hauling me back.

The scent hit me first.

"Easy, angel."

I froze. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. The voice was a low, British rumble that vibrated through my own skin, triggering a flash of memory from the club—the feel of his teeth on my neck, the way he had claimed me in a restroom with a hunger that had left me shaking.

Theodore Duke.

I tried to push away, but he didn't let go. His grip was firm, not bruising like Lucas's, but possessive. He stepped back, his grey eyes searching my face, narrowing as he saw the tear-streaked ruins of my makeup.

"What happened?"

I couldn't answer. A fresh wave of grief and helplessness crashed over me, and I collapsed against him, my forehead resting on his chest. I hated that I was doing this. I hated that I was weak. But for a moment, the sheer solidity of him felt like the only thing keeping me from floating away into nothingness.

Theo didn't say another word, he simply swept me up, one arm under my knees and the other supporting my back, and carried me down the hall toward an office, when inside, he kicked the door shut, the sound echoing with a finality that cut off the rest of the world.

He set me down on a plush velvet sofa, but he didn't move away. He knelt between my legs, his large hands resting on my thighs. The heat of his palms seeped through the fabric of my dress, sending a treacherous spark of desire through my panic.

"What happened," he commanded. His voice was softer now, but the authority remained, “talk to me, angel.”

I looked at him through my teary gaze and the dam finally broke. I told him everything. I told him about the cheating, the missing person report, the threats against my family, and the demand that I bare an heir. As I spoke, I watched Theo's expression shift. The amusement he wore vanished, replaced by a cold, simmering rage, it was so intense that his jaw tightened, a muscle leaping in his cheek, and his grip on my thighs tightened just enough to let me know he was barely containing a storm.

He didn't interrupt. He listened to every agonizing detail, his grey eyes burning into mine. When I finally ran out of words, I was shaking, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

Theo leaned in, his face inches from mine. The air between us crackled. I could see the gold flecks in his iris, could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me—to swallow my sorrow with the same intensity he had used to take my body.

"That filthy scumbag is a dead man," Theo murmured, his voice dangerously low. “What do you want done?”

"It doesn't matter," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Nothing can be done to him, he wins. He has everything. I have nothing."

Theo’s hand moved from my thigh to my cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. The touch was tender, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

"You don't have nothing, angel. You have me." He said and the words sounded more comforting and sincere than they should have. “And that’s worth everything.”

"What?" I blinked, pulling back slightly slowly coming back to my sense.

"I can make the scumbag regret ever being born and setting his pathetic eyes on you. I can strip him of every cent, every connection, and every ounce of power he thinks he possesses.” He stated. “I can give you the divorce, the money, and the safety of your family, all you have to do is say the word."

The offer hung in the air, a lifeline thrown into a dark sea. But my fear and trust issues crept in, it was way too good to be true.

"Why?" I found myself asking. "Why would you do that for me?"

He leaned closer, his lips almost brushing mine, his scent enveloping me until I could think of nothing else.

"Because you’re mine angel, and those eyes should only watering when I’m inside you."

The possessiveness in his tone should have terrified me, but instead, it made my core pulse.

I swallowed hard, my pride warring with my desperation. I looked at this man, this powerful, dangerous stranger who had seen me at my most vulnerable and still looked at me like I was a prize.

"No," I said, my voice regaining a sliver of strength.

Theo paused, his eyebrows arching. "What do you mean no?"

"I can't do this. I can't go from one man controlling my life to another." I pushed his hand away, sliding off the sofa to stand on my own two feet, though my legs still felt like jelly.

“Who said I’m controlling?” He said a glint of mischief glistening in his eyes.

"I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Duke, but I don't need my one-night stand to play my knight in shining armor."

The silence that followed was deafening. I expected him to react, but Theo didn't move, he stayed kneeling, looking up at me with an expression that was no longer angry, but intrigued, with a dark smirk spread across his face.

"A one-night stand," he repeated, the words tasting like a challenge. "Is that all I was to you, angel?"

"Yes," I lied, my heart racing.

He stood up in one fluid motion, towering over me once more. He stepped into my space, forcing me back against the edge of the couch, then leaned down, his voice a low, vibrating hum against my ear.

"I'm a very patient man, angel.” He said. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

“Don’t bother, this is the last time I’m speaking to you.” I said putting some distance between us so that I could breathe.

“We’ll see.”