Sinfully Bound

The rain poured like judgment from the heavens, soaking Liara Kane to the bone as she stood in the hallway outside ICU Room 12, clutching the cracked screen of her phone while the nurse repeated the words she’d already heard too many times.

“Miss Kane, without the surgery, your brother won’t make it through the week.”

Her throat burned. “I—I understand. Can I just have a little more time to settle the bill—”

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said, her voice softer now. “We’ve given you two extensions already. We have hospital policies.”

Policies. As if a policy could save Noah.

She looked down at the thin plastic bag containing her last few crumpled bills—just enough to buy one more dose of the medication her brother needed to survive the night. Her fingers shook so badly she almost dropped it.

Liara turned away, heart pounding, and her heels clicked unevenly against the linoleum as she paced down the corridor. She shoved open the stairwell door and gripped the rusty railing for balance, her chest tightening as each breath burned her lungs.

She couldn’t breathe. She needed a miracle.

Instead, she got a man she’d tried to forget.

“Still so dramatic.”

The voice echoed off the concrete walls, dark and unmistakable.

Her heart stopped. Slowly, she turned.

A man in black stood beneath an umbrella, his frame tall, commanding, as if even the storm dared not touch him. Water dripped from his perfectly tailored coat in tiny beads that caught the harsh fluorescent light.

She knew that voice. Knew that face. And hated how her heart reacted to it.

“Asher Kane,” she breathed. Her ex. Her tormentor. Her past, reborn in flesh and arrogance.

His lips curved, but there was no warmth in the smile. “It’s been a while.”

She said nothing. What could she say to the man who humiliated her two years ago, turned her love into ash, then disappeared without a trace?

“How did you find me?” she asked, voice low and bitter.

Asher tilted his head slightly, the umbrella shielding just his face from the downpour. “I make it my business to know when someone I once touched is drowning. Your brother’s case crossed my desk last week.”

Liara’s stomach dropped. He’d monitored her like an investment. The thought made her feel violated and enraged.

“You were spying on me?”

“I prefer the term ‘monitoring potential investments.’ You were flagged. I was… intrigued.”

The gall. The audacity. The ice in his tone made her chest tighten until she could hardly think straight.

“Why?” she whispered, voice cracking. “Why are you really here, Asher?”

He stepped closer—so close she could feel the chill of his suit against her wet coat. “Because I need a wife.”

Liara blinked, heart hammering. She forced her knees not to buckle. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You always knew I’d find you again.” His gaze roamed her face, as if reacquainting himself with a favorite sin.

Her skin prickled with memories—his touch, his betrayal, the nights she’d lain awake replaying every word. “You humiliated me. Discarded me.”

He didn’t flinch. “And yet here we are.”

He produced a sleek black folder from inside his coat. Rainwater dripped onto the leather, darkening it. She stared at it as if it were laced with poison.

His eyes, sharp as obsidian, held hers. “You marry me. For one year. Publicly. No questions, no scandals. You play the perfect wife.”

“And privately?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

His jaw flexed. “Behind closed doors, you’ll belong to me. In every way that matters.”

Her knees nearly gave out; she pressed her hand against the cold wall to keep upright. Every instinct screamed to run.

“This is insane.”

He closed the distance, tilting her chin up until their eyes locked. She could see the reflection of the flickering hallway light in his irises. “No, Liara. It’s strategic.” He lowered his voice until it was a dangerous purr. “My board’s pushing for stability. My family wants a bride. And you… you’re the perfect lie.”

Tears welled up, but she blinked them away—pride refusing to break.

“I’m not your puppet.”

He leaned in, breath warm against her ear, rain sizzling on his collar. “No. You’ll be my possession.”

She slapped him—hard—with the force of every shattered dream she’d carried. The sound cracked through the stairwell like lightning.

His jaw ticked as he did not retaliate. Instead, he smiled. A slow, dangerous thing that sent a chill through her veins.

“There she is,” he murmured. “The girl with fire. I was beginning to think poverty had snuffed it out.”

Her heart thudded against her ribs. “Why me?”

He paused, the storm seeming to hush for a heartbeat. “Because my family won’t stop meddling in my affairs. They want me married. Settled. Normal.” He let that hang, then added with a bitter smirk: “You were the only woman who ever dared defy me. And now? You’re the only one desperate enough to accept the terms.”

Her voice trembled as she looked up at him. “What’s in it for me?”

He produced a second paper from the folder—figures printed in crisp black ink. “Your brother’s surgery. Covered. Every cent. Plus an allowance generous enough to erase your debts.” His gaze hardened. “But you’ll live in my penthouse, dress as I choose, appear at my side in public—and sleep in my bed.”

She shivered despite herself as reality closed in around her.

“You’re a monster.”

Liara’s fingers curled around the envelope. One signature. One year. One soul sold. Her hand hovered over the line—trembling like a leaf in a storm.

She whispered, “This is insane.”

He stepped closer still, so close her wet hair brushed his cheek. The rain ceased behind them, leaving the stairwell deathly silent except for their breaths.

“No, Liara. This is business. And in my world, everything has a price—including you.”

Her pen finally tipped down, poised over the paper, just as a sudden thunderclap rattled the windows above—an echo of the storm still raging in her heart