MARRY ME FOR REVENGE

Laura

The first thing I felt was the scent. It didn't smell like the sterile, bleach-heavy air of a hospital. It smelled like expensive oud, aged whiskey, and something dangerously masculine.

I blinked my eyes open. The ceiling was charcoal grey, accented with soft, recessed LED lighting.

"You're awake," a soft voice said.

I turned my head slowly, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. A woman in a neat charcoal blazer was standing by the bed, holding a glass of water.

"Where am I?" My voice was a dry rasps. "Is this the hospital?"

"You're at the Cardiff penthouse," she said, helping me sit up. Her touch was professional, but her eyes held a hint of pity. "You’ll be okay, Laura. The doctors already left. You had a concussion and some bruising, but... considering the state of your car, it’s a miracle."

"Who brought me here?" I whispered, my heart starting to thud against my ribs.

"Mr. Cardiff. Quinn Cardiff."

The name hit me like a physical blow. Cardiff.

My eyes darted around the room. On a sleek mahogany dresser sat a framed cover of Forbes. A man with dark, windswept hair and eyes that looked like they could freeze fire stared back.

Quinn Cardiff.

The "King of Content." The CEO of Cardiff Media Group. He was the man who owned the industry. He only took on the elite, the top 1% of models and A-listers. And he was my husband’s biggest rival.

The door clicked open.

The air in the room suddenly felt heavy, like the oxygen had been sucked out. Quinn Cardiff walked in, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tailored trousers. He wasn't wearing a jacket, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up, revealing tanned, muscular forearms.

"Leave us, Elena," he said. His voice was even deeper than I remembered from the rain.

The woman nodded and slipped out, closing the door with a soft thud.

Quinn didn't come closer at first. He just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, watching me. "Are you okay?"

"I... I think so," I stammered. "Why am I here? You should have taken me to a public ward."

"And let the vultures at TMZ get a picture of you?" He scoffed, walking toward the bed. He moved like a predator—slow, confident, and lethal. "I’m sorry, Laura. The accident... it was my driver's fault. We were in a rush. I’ll take full responsibility for everything."

"It's fine," I looked away, my eyes stinging. "Everything is fine."

"The doctor said you need rest," he said, his voice dropping an octave. He reached the edge of the bed and sat down. "You won't be able to do anything rigorous for the next six months. No stress. No work. Nothing."

Six months.

The weight of the last twenty-four hours finally crashed down on me. The surgery. The liver I gave to a man who hated me. Ember’s laughter. The divorce.

A sob broke out of my throat before I could stop it. I covered my face with my hands, my shoulders shaking. "I have nothing. I have nowhere to go."

"Hey," Quinn said. It wasn't a sweet 'hey.' It was sharp, a command. "Look at me."

I didn't. I couldn't.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my head. He started stroking my hair, his fingers trailing through the strands with a gentleness that didn't match the hardness in his eyes. My heart skipped a beat, a strange, electric heat spreading through my chest.

"He cheated," I choked out, the words spilling out of me. "He... he's getting married to my best friend. He took my liver and then he threw me away like trash. I loved him since I was ten, Quinn. I gave him everything."

Quinn’s hand stilled for a second. His face was a mask of unreadable granite. "I know who Hemsworth Deluca is. He’s a bottom-feeder who got lucky. And he’s about to realize how big of a mistake he just made."

I looked up at him, my vision blurred by tears. "What do you mean?"

Quinn leaned in closer. He smelled like power and bad intentions. "I don't like losing, Laura. And right now, Hemsworth thinks he’s won. I want to take that away from him. I want to take everything away from him."

"How?"

"Join my agency," he said. "I’ll put you through the best transformation program in the world. I’ll make you the biggest star Hollywood has ever seen. We’ll rewrite your narrative. From the 'invisible wife' to the 'Global Queen.'"

I blinked. "I'm... I'm an XXL female, Quinn. I'm not a model. I'm not an actress."

"You're exactly what the world wants," he snapped, his voice sounding a bit like Hardin—impatient and raw. "They're tired of the plastic clones. They want someone real. And I want someone who has a reason to destroy Hemsworth Deluca."

He paused, his eyes searching mine.

"But there’s a catch," he whispered. "I need something from you, too."

"What?"

"My grandfather’s will has a 'Legacy Clause.' To take full control of the European branch of the studio, I have to be married. Stably. To someone who isn't a social-climbing starlet." He leaned in until our noses were almost touching. "Be my contractual wife, Laura. One year. I give you the fame and the revenge. You give me the company."

"A marriage?" I breathed. "You're serious?"

"I'm never not serious," he muttered. "He broke the girl. I want to build the woman."

The silence in the room was deafening. I looked at him—this dangerous, beautiful man who was offering me a way out of the ashes.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Because," Quinn said, his eyes darkening to a shade of blue that made my knees weak even while lying down. "I like the way you look at me when you’re angry. It’s the only honest thing I’ve seen in this city for years."

He didn't wait for me to answer. He didn't ask for permission.

Quinn reached out, his hand cupping the back of my neck. He pulled me forward, and before I could even gasp, his lips smashed against mine.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a claim. It was rough, intense, and tasted like a promise of absolute chaos. It was a slow-burn fire that suddenly exploded, sending a surge of adrenaline through my veins that drowned out the pain in my side.

I should have pushed him away. I should have been outraged.

Instead, my fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

He pulled back just an inch, his thumb bruising my lower lip as he stared at me, breathless.

"Deal?" he rasped.

Before I could answer, my phone—which had been sitting on the nightstand—buzzed.

A notification popped up. It was a news alert from E! News.

"BREAKING: Hemsworth Deluca announces engagement to Ember Vance! First photos of the 'Miracle Baby' bump inside!"

I looked from the phone to Quinn’s icy blue eyes.

“Deal.”