CHAPTER 2

​The ten-second timer on Killian’s phone screen pulsed like a ticking bomb, counting down the cost of my brother’s life.

​“Seven seconds, Aria,” Killian murmured, his breath scorching against the sensitive column of my neck. His thumb slid up to the hollow of my throat, feeling the desperate flutter of my pulse. “Decide. Right now.”

​“I’ll do it,” I whispered, the words burning in my chest. “I’ll be your bride.”

​Killian’s dark eyes locked onto mine, a cold, triumph-filled gleam dancing in their depths. Without a word, he tucked his phone back into his tailored jacket, reached down, and gripped my hand. His fingers locked through mine with a crushing, possessive force, leaving no room for escape.

​He dragged me toward the grand mahogany doors of the sanctuary. The heavy doors swung open, exposing us to a sea of flashing cameras, whispering elite guests, and the ominous hum of a organ pipe playing a dark, slow march.

​Every eye in the room landed on us. I held my chin high, schooling my features into the picture-perfect mask of a composed, dutiful bride. Beside me, Killian exuded total dominance. He didn't smile for the crowd; he walked down the aisle like a king claiming conquered territory.

​When we reached the altar, the elderly priest’s hands trembled as he held his scripture book. He barely managed to read through the formal ceremony, visibly unnerved by the heavy aura of power Killian radiated.

​“Do you, Killian Vance, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest asked, his voice shaking slightly.

​“I take her,” Killian said, his baritone echoing off the cathedral vaulting. His gaze never left my face, intense and unyielding. “To own and to hold.”

​“And do you, Aria Sterling, take this man...”

​“I do,” I cut in firmly, staring back into his dark, obsidian eyes.

​“By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest rushed out. “You may kiss the bride.”

​Before I could brace myself, Killian’s hand snared the back of my neck, tangling in my hair and yanking my head back. He pulled me flush against his hard frame, his other arm wrapping tightly around my waist to crush my body against his.

​His lips slammed onto mine in a kiss that wasn't meant for show. It was a hostile takeover.

​He forced my lips open with ruthless precision, his tongue invading my mouth with raw, demanding dominance. A gasp escaped my throat, which he drank down hungrily. The intense, intoxicating heat of his mouth sent a sharp shockwave directly down into the pit of my core. My knees went weak under the relentless pressure of his mouth, my hands reflexively clutching his broad shoulders just to stay upright.

​The crowd erupted into polite applause, completely unaware that under the veil of a gorgeous wedding kiss, Killian was marking his territory with brutal authority.

​When he finally pulled back, my breath came in ragged, breathless shallow pants. My lips were swollen and tingling from the sheer intensity of his force.

​“Good girl,” Killian rasped against my ear, his hand trailing down to grip my lower back, steering me away from the altar. “Now the real contract begins.”

​An hour later, a blacked-out SUV pulled into the private underground parking garage of the Vance Tower Penthouse.

​Killian bypassed the main elevators, taking a high-speed private lift straight up to the top floor. The elevator doors opened directly into a vast, ultra-modern penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows offered a panoramic view of the sparkling city skyline below.

​Killian tossed his suit jacket onto a leather couch, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. The loosened collar exposed the strong cords of his neck and a glimpse of the dark hair framing his broad chest.

​“The maid staff has been dismissed for the night,” Killian said, his voice quiet, heavy, and full of clear intent as he turned to face me. “Take off the dress.”

​I stood near the center of the living room, my heels digging into the plush rug. “Excuse me?”

​“You heard me,” he said, stepping closer. “That gown was meant for your sister. I don't want another man's design on my wife’s body. Take it off.”

​My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced myself to reach behind my back. My fingers fumbled with the long zipper running down the spine of the silk gown. It caught halfway down, jamming against the delicate lace overlay.

​Killian clicked his tongue in quiet impatience. He closed the distance between us in three smooth, predatory strides, stepping directly up behind me.

​His heat hit my exposed back before his skin even made contact. I froze as his large, calloused hands gently brushed mine aside. His fingers made contact with the bare skin between my shoulder blades, sending a sudden, electric shiver straight down my spine.

​With one effortless pull, he unzipped the dress completely. The heavy silk gave way, cascading down my shoulders and pooling at my waist, leaving my back bare to his burning gaze.

​Killian’s breath hitched slightly behind me. His rough hand slid slowly around my waist, his long fingers tracing over the curve of my hip, pressing me back against his front until every hard line of his chest was pressed into my bare spine.

​“You’re trembling, Aria,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive curve where my neck met my shoulder.

​“I’m not afraid of you, Killian,” I whispered, even as my core throbbed with a betrayal of deep, visceral heat.

​“You should be,” he whispered back, his fingers dipping lower into the edge of the silk dress.

​Suddenly, his pants pocket vibrated sharply with a loud, insistent electronic chime.

​Killian paused, his grip tightening briefly on my hip before he pulled out his phone. He glanced down at the glowing screen.

​His body instantly went rigid. The playful, dark desire in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, deadly steel.

​On the screen was a flashing red security breach alert from Vance Financial Systems:

CRITICAL WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS BY GHOST-X.