Chapter 7

How does a person prepare to sell their soul to the world before the sun even breaches the horizon? Maren wondered as loud footsteps echoed down the marble hallway outside the master suite. The mahogany door swung open to reveal Colm leading a squad of stern professionals wielding garment bags and makeup kits, while Gideon stood in the threshold projecting a presence that demanded obedience from everyone in the room.

"We have twenty minutes to transform your appearance into a flawless billionaire wife before the morning news cycles pick up the court filings Desmond submitted," Colm stated with professional detachment. He gestured for the stylist team to descend on Maren like a pack of wolves evaluating fresh meat. Maren clutched her cotton pajamas and took a hesitant step backward, a surge of raw vulnerability washing over her.

"Do not fight them, Maren. We need the public to believe you are accustomed to this level of wealth and privilege," Gideon ordered while pouring himself a cup of black coffee from a silver carafe. He leaned against the oak dresser and watched the stylists pull her toward a velvet vanity chair near the window. Maren bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a sharp retort and submitted to the hands tugging at her auburn hair.

"This feels like I am being dressed for a public execution instead of a romantic debut," Maren muttered as a woman applied cold foundation to her pale skin. She stared at her reflection in the gilded mirror and could not recognize the polished stranger staring back with hollow hazel eyes. Gideon set his coffee cup down and crossed the room with a deliberate grace that silenced the chatter of the styling team.

"You are preparing for war, and in my world the right wardrobe is just as crucial as the best legal defense," Gideon countered in a low voice that resonated deep in her chest. He motioned for the stylist to step aside and picked up a thick pearl necklace from the velvet tray on the vanity. "Desmond wants the world to view you as an unfit beggar, so we are going to blind them with undeniable power."

"Power does not come from expensive silk and stolen jewels, Gideon," Maren argued while trying to ignore the heat radiating from his frame. She kept her gaze fixed on the mirror as he secured the pearls around her neck with unexpectedly gentle fingers. The contrast between his ruthless reputation and his careful touch sent a fresh wave of confusion through her veins.

"We do not have the luxury of debating philosophy when state troopers are preparing to raid this building to seize the child," Gideon reminded her, a dark edge returning to his tone. He stepped back to admire the way the tailored ivory dress hugged her curves and projected an image of untouchable elegance. Maren felt a flush rise to her cheeks under his scrutiny, but she refused to look away from his intense gaze.

"Power comes from controlling the narrative before your enemies can plant their own twisted version of the truth in the media," Colm chimed in from the doorway, holding his signature leather briefcase. He stepped into the bedroom and dismissed the stylists with a curt wave once they finished securing the custom designer dress. The sudden silence in the sprawling suite felt suffocating as Maren stood to face the two corporate titans orchestrating her destiny.

Maren smoothed her trembling hands down the luxurious fabric of the gown and felt like a prisoner wrapped in beautiful chains. She glanced toward the wooden crib where the infant slept in deep slumber, unaware of the vicious battles being fought over his future. "Tell me the precise details of what we are going to do when those cameras start flashing in our faces," Maren demanded, forcing her spine to remain straight.

"We are going to hold a live press conference in the main lobby of this building to announce our surprise union and pledge a substantial donation to a children's charity," Gideon explained with calculated precision. He closed the distance between them and observed the transformation that turned the exhausted woman into a formidable force of nature. "You will smile for the reporters, and you will look at me with the deep devotion of a woman who just found her savior."

"I can act the part for the cameras, but do not confuse my survival instincts with genuine affection," Maren warned while her heart raced under his slate gray gaze. She refused to let him believe he was conquering her spirit just because he provided a shield against the legal attacks Desmond orchestrated. Gideon let a dark smirk touch his lips because he found her stubborn resilience intoxicating and challenging.

"I expect nothing less than a brilliant performance from a woman willing to risk everything to protect her bloodline," Gideon murmured, his gaze dropping to her trembling hands. He knew she was terrified, but he admired the fierce fire burning behind her hazel eyes that refused to be extinguished. "We need one final detail to solidify the illusion before we face the wolves waiting downstairs."

Colm stepped forward and reached into the inner pocket of his bespoke suit to retrieve a small square velvet box. He held the item out toward his commanding boss with a grave expression that signaled the gravity of the situation. Gideon took the box and flicked the lid open to reveal a massive flawless diamond ring that sparkled with intimidating brilliance under the ambient lights.

Maren stared at the obscene piece of jewelry and felt her throat tighten with a sudden overwhelming sense of dread. The ring looked heavy enough to drag her straight down to the bottom of the ocean and drown her in a sea of billionaire politics. "That stone is ridiculous, and nobody will believe a man like you bought something so extravagant without a hidden motive," Maren protested while taking a reluctant step backward.

"Men in my position do not do things without motive. We plan every single move ten steps in advance," Gideon murmured as he reached out to capture her left hand in his firm grip. He ignored her weak attempt to pull away and held her fingers steady with a dominant force she could not overcome. His thumb traced her knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion that made her breath hitch in her throat.

"You are going to wear this diamond every single day, and you are never going to take it off for any reason," Gideon instructed with a tone that bordered on a lethal threat. He slid the dense, cold metal onto her ring finger and locked his intense gaze onto her wide, terrified eyes. Maren felt the physical weight of the stone drop onto her hand like a permanent brand sealing her fate to his empire.

"It is just a prop for the media to photograph," Maren whispered in a desperate attempt to convince herself she still retained some shred of freedom. She tried to twist the band around her finger, but Gideon tightened his grip on her hand to prevent her from moving. He leaned down until his lips hovered mere inches from her ear, sending a shiver of raw panic down her spine.

"It is far more than a simple prop to fool the press, Maren," Gideon whispered against her skin with a dark, possessive edge that made her blood run cold. He watched her eyes widen in fear as he tightened his hold on her trapped hand to ensure she understood the gravity of his confession. "The band contains a microscopic military grade tracker, so no matter where you try to run, I will always find you."