Dominic Blackwood stood in the doorway, his imposing frame filling the entrance. Unlike the disheveled Reynolds family, he looked immaculate in a charcoal suit. His storm-gray eyes swept over the scene, taking in everything with a single glance.
“This is a private family matter," Victoria hissed, lowering her hand slowly. "You have no business here." "On the contrary." Blackwood stepped into the room, moving with the confident grace of a predator. "When someone catches a woman who's been pushed through a window, I believe that creates a certain responsibility." Richard straightened his tie, switching instantly to his public persona. "Mr. Blackwood, we appreciate your assistance yesterday, but this situation is being handled." "Is it?" Blackwood's eyebrow lifted as he glanced at my reddened cheek. "Interesting handling technique." Victoria's nostrils flared. "How dare you imply—" “I'm not implying anything," Blackwood interrupted smoothly. "I'm stating facts. Mrs. Reynolds fell—or was pushed—from your son's office window. I caught her. Now I find her being threatened in her hospital room while still recovering." His smile never reached his eyes. "The media would find that fascinating, don't you think?" The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. "We should go," Richard muttered to his wife, casting a calculating glance at Blackwood. "This conversation can wait." Victoria looked like she wanted to argue, but Blake was already heading for the door, clearly done with the whole situation. "This isn't over," Victoria whispered, leaning close enough that I could smell her expensive perfume. "You're dead to us. Don't ever expect to see a penny of Reynolds money." "Mother." Chase's voice held a note of warning. She straightened, composing herself. "My son deserves better than damaged goods," she said loud enough for Blackwood to hear. "We never want to see you again." Each word was a knife twisting in my already bleeding heart. They filed out—a procession of expensive suits and cold hearts. Blake didn't even look back, already scrolling through his phone. Only Chase hesitated, giving me a conflicted glance before following his family. Then they were gone, leaving me alone with the man who'd saved my life—and who now studied me with detached interest. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Don't thank me yet." He moved closer, hands in his pockets. "That was business, not kindness." "Still, I appreciate it." Blackwood nodded once, then checked his phone. "The news coverage is substantial. Your fall, my catch—it's trending on every platform." "Can you... deny any connection between us?" I asked. "Tell them it was just coincidence?" His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Why would I do that?" "Please," I begged, desperation clawing at my throat. "If Blake thinks there's something between us, he'll—" "Use it against you?" Blackwood finished, his tone almost amused. "From what I just witnessed, I'd say that bridge is already burned." "You don't understand." Tears spilled over. "I have nowhere else to go. No money, no family. This baby—" My hand moved protectively to my stomach. "This baby is all I have left." "And you still want to protect your husband?" His voice hardened with disbelief. "After he let another woman try to kill you?" "God, no!" The vehemence in my voice surprised even me. "Blake is the one mistake I'm desperate to erase from my life. But I can't have revenge if I don't survive. I need to live—to care for my child." Something flickered in Blackwood's expression, something almost human, but it vanished quickly. "Please," I tried again, swallowing my pride. "If you could just—" "No." The word fell like a hammer. "This news damages the Reynolds family, and as their biggest competitor, that benefits me." The cold, business-like assessment stunned me into silence. "Blake's always been sloppy," Blackwood continued, pacing slowly at the foot of my bed. "But this—a pregnant wife falling from his office window—this is a PR disaster that will haunt him for years." He paused, studying me with those storm-gray eyes that seemed to see right through me. Then he moved closer, looming over my hospital bed. "Marry me." The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?" "You heard me." His voice was cold, precise. "Become my wife." My jaw dropped. "You can't be serious." "Deadly." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Blake Reynolds' discarded wife marrying his biggest business rival mere weeks after their divorce? The press would eat it up. The Reynolds family would be humiliated. Their stock would plummet." "This is insane," I whispered. "You don't even know me. I'm pregnant with another man's child!" "I don't need to know you." He shrugged, the gesture elegant despite its dismissiveness. "This isn't about affection, Scarlett. It's strategy. You marry me, I gain a weapon against the Reynolds family. You gain financial security and my resources to extract whatever revenge you desire against your ex-husband." "You're asking me to jump from one loveless marriage straight into another?" My voice cracked with disbelief. This man is crazy. "I'm offering you protection," he countered, his eyes glittering dangerously. "Unlike Blake Reynolds, I'm honest about my intentions. No false promises. No pretend affection. Just mutual benefit." "No," I finally managed, shaking my head. "No, I won't be used again." "Think carefully, Scarlett." My name sounded dangerous on his lips. "With me, you'll have protection, resources, the best medical care for your child. Without me?" His lips curved in a cold smile. "The Reynolds family will destroy you. They'll take your baby. They'll make sure you never work in this city again. Or they'll decide you're not worth anything—they'll snuff you and your baby out. Is your pride worth that risk?" "I'd rather struggle on my own than be another man's property," I said, finding a sliver of defiance I didn't know I still possessed. Something that might have been respect flickered in his eyes before he shuttered his expression completely. "As you wish." He turned toward the door, and panic fluttered in my chest. What if he was right? What if this was my only chance? Before I could speak, he paused, one hand on the doorknob. "You have two more chances to accept my help." "Two more...?" I echoed, bewildered. "I'll make this offer exactly three times." His voice was colder than a winter storm. "This was the first. Not out of kindness, but strategic advantage." He checked his watch, the casual gesture somehow menacing. "I suggest you consider your options carefully before I make the second offer. The Reynolds family doesn't take public humiliation lightly." Just before the door closed, I sat straighter. “Wait.” He froze. Well here goes nothing. If this is the only way to make Blake and his family pay for everything I’ve been through, I’ll take it with both hands. “I… I accept.” I whispered. When he turned back to me, the smile on his face wasn’t supposed to be handsome at all. But chilling as it was, it was devastatingly handsome. “Good choice, Scarlett.” “I have conditions.” I blurted before thinking. Because when making a deal with the devil, you have to be wise enough to give yourself some wiggle room, And I definitely just made a deal with the devil. His smile broadened. “Oh? Let’s hear it then.”Victoria's penthouse felt like stepping into a different world after the chaos of the warehouse. Soft lighting, fresh flowers, and the kind of quiet that came from actual security instead of just the illusion of it. She was sitting in her favorite chair by the window, looking out at Central Park with a cup of tea in her hands."You look like hell," she said without turning around when I walked in."Good to see you too, Grandmother," I said, settling into the chair across from her. "How are you feeling?""Like a woman who got shot three weeks ago and is tired of everyone asking how she feels." Victoria's eyes moved to the bandage on Jules's forehead, then to the way I was unconsciously protecting my stomach with my hands. "But I'm guessing you've had a worse day than me.""You could say that."Jules dropped into the couch with a grunt. "Your granddaughter almost got trampled to death by a mob of fake reporters sent by your son-in-law's psychotic mother.""I heard." Victoria set down he
The Titan agents formed a protective circle around me, giving me space to breathe for the first time in what felt like hours. I collapsed against Dominic's chest, my whole body shaking with adrenaline and terror."Are you hurt?" he asked, his hands running over my arms and shoulders, checking for injuries."The baby," I whispered. "I think the baby's okay, but Jules—""We've got her," one of the Titan agents said, helping Jules to her feet. Blood was still streaming from the cut on her forehead, but she was conscious and swearing creatively at the reporters who'd caused the chaos.Dominic's attention turned to the crowd of journalists, who were now looking significantly less aggressive faced with a wall of professional security personnel."Harrison," Dominic called out, his voice deadly calm. "I want every single one of these people detained and brought to the warehouse. Now.""Sir—" one of the reporters started to protest."You just participated in a coordinated attack on a pregnant
The Van Alston building lobby felt like a war zone.I stepped out of the elevator with Jules flanking me, both of us trying to look calm despite the chaos erupting around us. Reporters had somehow gotten past building security and were packed into the marble space like vultures fighting over a carcass. The moment they spotted me, the noise level went from loud to deafening."Ms. Blackwood! Is it true you've been receiving psychiatric treatment?""Scarlett! How do you respond to allegations that you're unfit to run Van Alston Industries?""Are you planning to step down from your position?"The questions came from all directions, overlapping and aggressive. Camera flashes went off like strobe lights, making my vision blur. I could feel my heart rate spiking, that familiar panic starting to claw at the edges of my consciousness."Keep walking," Jules murmured beside me, her hand on my elbow. "Don't stop, don't engage."But they weren't interested in letting me walk. The crowd surged forw
The call from Titan Security came at five in the morning, ripping me from the first decent sleep I'd managed in weeks. "Mrs. Blackwood," the voice was crisp, professional. "This is Director Harrison. We need to meet immediately. We've found something." I was dressed and in the war room within thirty minutes, Dominic beside me looking like he'd rather be facing a firing squad than whatever Harrison was about to show us. Jules arrived moments later, carrying enough coffee to fuel a small army and wearing the kind of expression that meant someone was about to have a very bad day. Harrison was already there, surrounded by laptops, financial documents, and what looked like surveillance photos. He was a man who'd probably seen every kind of human cruelty imaginable, but something about his face told me this was bad even by his standards. "What did you find?" I asked, settling into my chair. "A money trail," Harrison said, pulling up a series of financial records on the main screen.
The silence in the penthouse was a physical thing. It pressed in on my ears, a low hum of electricity and recycled air that was somehow heavier than any noise. I stood at the window, the city lights a blur of cold, distant fire. They weren’t beautiful tonight. They were just… there. A reminder of a world that kept spinning, oblivious.The glass of whiskey in my hand was for him, but I’d taken a sip. The burn of it was grounding. Macallan 18. It tasted like smoke and money and bad decisions. I was waiting. Not like the scared girl I used to be, pacing and chewing my nails down to the quick. This was a different kind of waiting. The coiled stillness before a strike. My fight wasn’t with him. It was with what he was walking back from.You don’t just walk away from a woman like Lydia Blackwood. She wasn't just his mother; she was the architect of his DNA, the ghost in his machine. Defying her was an act of self-immolation. And he was doing it for me. The thought didn't make me feel powerf
The ICU smelled like disinfectant and broken dreams, but Victoria looked better than she had in weeks. The color was coming back to her cheeks, and when I walked into the room, her eyes actually tracked my movement."Well, look who's finally awake," Jules said, settling into the visitor's chair like she owned the place. "About time, Victoria. We've been running your empire while you've been napping.""Jules," I hissed, but Victoria's lips were twitching like she was trying to smile."She's... not wrong," Victoria whispered, her voice rough from the breathing tube they'd only removed yesterday. "How long?""Two weeks," I said, pulling a chair closer to her bed. "You've missed some excitement.""The... the board meeting?""I got the inheritance," I said, watching her face carefully. "Full controlling interest. 2.8 billion dollars and twelve companies across six countries."Victoria's eyes closed for a moment, and I thought she'd fallen asleep again. Then she opened them and looked direc