CHAPTER THREE

Sienna’s Pov

When Marcus said those magic words over the phone—Mr. Kane is willing to pay you for your time—a cold, heavy anchor dropped right into my stomach. I

 hated myself even for thinking about it. Dominic Kane was an arrogant, cruel monster who had ruined my life without blinking an eye. But pride doesn't pay hospital bills, and anger doesn't keep a roof over my sick mother's head.

"How much?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, tasting like dust in my mouth.

Marcus didn't hesitate. He named a number that made my head spin. It was enough money to pay off our back rent, save our family business from going under, and cover all of my mom's specialized medical treatments for an entire year with plenty left over. It was a fortune. It was a lifeline wrapped in a nightmare.

"Fine," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut as fresh tears burned my eyelids. "Tell him I'll come. But only to hear what he has to say. I am not selling my soul, and I am not apologizing."

An hour later, I found myself standing in the giant, gleaming lobby of Kane International. 

Everything inside was polished to perfection, from the shiny white marble floors reflecting expensive crystal chandeliers to the people in sharp suits moving with purpose.

When the private glass elevator opened on the top floor, Marcus was waiting. He gave me a polite, serious nod and led me down a long hallway lined with dark wood panels and rare artwork, stopping in front of a massive set of heavy mahogany double doors.

"Mr. Kane is waiting for you inside, Ms. Miller," Marcus said quietly, pushing them open.

I took a deep, shaky breath, squared my shoulders, and stepped inside.

Dominic's office was vast. He stood near the window with his back to me, wearing a crisp, tailored charcoal suit. He held a glass of amber-colored liquid in one hand, looking out over his concrete kingdom like a king watching his lands.

He didn't turn around right away. 

"You came," Dominic finally said, his deep, smooth voice cutting through the quiet as he slowly turned to face me.

His dark eyes locked onto mine, sharp and calculating, like a predator sizing up its meal. 

There was no warm greeting, no friendly smile, and no apology for the terrible things he had said to me last night at the gala.

"I am only here because your assistant mentioned compensation," I said coldly, keeping my voice steady. "Say what you have to say, Mr. Kane. I don't have all day to waste in your fancy cage."

Dominic took a slow sip of his drink, his face remaining completely blank. He set the glass down and walked toward me, his expensive shoes clicking softly against the floor.

"You have spirit, Sienna. I'll give you that," Dominic said, stopping a few feet away. "Most people would be cowering in fear right now after what happened. Instead, you walk in here looking ready for a fight."

"You ruined my family's business with your lies and your temper," I snapped, stepping forward. "You humiliated me in front of hundreds of people. You don't get to judge my attitude after everything you put me through."

"I don't care about the gala anymore," Dominic replied flatly, waving his hand through the air. "That is in the past. I called you here because I have a proposition for you."

I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. "If you think I'm coming back to plan another one of your ridiculous parties, you are out of your mind. I wouldn't work for you if you were the last man on earth."

"I don't want you to plan a party," Dominic said smoothly, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I want you to become my wife."

The room went dead silent.

For a second, my brain completely stopped working. The words bounced around inside my head like rubber balls, refusing to make any sense.

 I stared at him, blinking rapidly, until a sudden, nervous laugh bubbled up out of my throat.

"Your... your what?" I laughed, shaking my head. "Are you out of your mind? Is this some kind of sick joke?"

Dominic didn't smile. He just stared back at me with those cold, dead-serious eyes.

"I am not joking, Sienna," he said calmly. "I need a wife. Specifically, for one year. My board of directors and my family expect me to settle down and present a stable, traditional image. I need a woman who can accompany me publicly, play the part of a devoted partner, and fit into the high-society expectations of my world."

"And you picked me?" I asked, my voice rising in disbelief and utter disgust. "Just yesterday, you told me that I didn't belong in a room like this! You called me incompetent, a nobody! And now you want to put a ring on my finger?"

"Yesterday, you were a failing event planner who looked like a liability," Dominic answered coldly, showing zero emotion. "Today, you are a woman with no options, facing financial ruin, who desperately needs money. It's a business arrangement. You play the role of my wife for twelve months, attend the required functions, and at the end of the year, we quietly divorce. In exchange, I will make sure your family business is fully funded, all your debts are wiped clean, and your mother's medical expenses are paid in full for the rest of her life."

Hearing him talk about my life, my mom's sickness, and my deepest struggles like we were negotiating a corporate merger made me feel sick to my stomach.

"You are unbelievable," I whispered, shaking my head as pure, white-hot fury flooded my veins. "You actually think you can just buy a wife like you buy a car or a building, don't you? You think every single person in the world has a price tag attached to their forehead!"

Dominic took a step closer, his tall frame towering over me, his voice dropping into a dangerous, arrogant low tone.

"Everyone has a price, Sienna," Dominic said smoothly, looking right down into my eyes with complete certainty. "Even you. It's just a matter of finding the right number."

Those words were the final straw. The arrogance, the coldness, the absolute disrespect—it made my blood boil so hot I thought I might burst into flames.

"Go to hell, Dominic," I spat out, my voice shaking with rage. "Keep your money. Keep your fake marriage. I would rather lose everything, I would rather live on the streets, than spend one single second pretending to love a cold-hearted tyrant like you!"

Without waiting another second, I spun around on my heel and stormed toward the heavy mahogany doors. I grabbed the handles, yanked them open, and marched out into the hallway, letting the doors slam shut behind me with a loud, satisfying bang. 

My chest was heaving, tears of anger hot and heavy in my eyes as I hurried down the hall toward the private elevators.

I am never speaking to him again, I told myself fiercely. Never.

"Ms. Brooks, please wait," a calm voice called out.

I stopped right before reaching the elevator buttons and turned around. Marcus was jogging slightly to catch up to me. He didn't look angry; if anything, he looked almost tired. He held out a thick manila folder toward me.

"Mr. Kane asked me to give this to you before you leave," Marcus said politely, holding the folder steady.

"I told you, I don't want his money!" I snapped, taking a step back as if the folder were on fire.

"Just look inside, Ms. Miller," Marcus urged quietly, his eyes softening just a tiny bit. "Before you make your final decision. Just open it."

My hands were shaking, but against my better judgment, my eyes drifted down to the folder. With trembling fingers, I reached out, took the thick paper from Marcus's hands, and flipped the cover open.

Inside sat a printed bank document detailing a wire transfer, along with official hospital guarantees and business debt clearances. 

I looked at the numbers printed on the paper. It was every single penny my family needed to survive, wiped clean, right there in black and white.

My breath caught in my throat. The anger inside me suddenly froze, replaced by a terrifying, heavy weight. Dominic Kane hadn't just made a stupid proposal. 

He had laid out a decision I never wanted, forcing me to stare right at the exact price of saving everything I loved.