CHAPTER 4

The guest suite on the east wing was larger than the entire hospital ward Lily had just left behind. Silk sheets, soft lighting, and a bathroom that smelled of eucalyptus did little to calm the frantic beating of her heart.

She stood in front of the vanity mirror, dressed in a borrowed silk robe that felt too smooth against her scrubbed skin. The doctor Levi had called had already left, pronouncing her physically exhausted but otherwise fine. Now, she was alone with her reflection. Without the mud and the hospital grime, her face looked painfully pale. Her eyes looked too big, haunted by a past she couldn't reach.

A soft knock on the double doors broke the silence.

Lily tensed, pulling the lapels of the robe tighter around her throat. "Come in."

The door opened, but it wasn't Gideon. It was Levi.

He had discarded his suit jacket and tie. The top two buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing strong, tan wrists. He carried a leather-bound folder in one hand. Without his formal armor, he looked less like a corporate deity and more like a dangerous man relaxing in his own territory.

Levi stopped a few feet into the room, his gray eyes sweeping over her. The heavy, lingering gaze made a sudden warmth rise to her cheeks.

"You look human again," he said, his voice dropping into that familiar, quiet baritone.

"Thank you," Lily murmured, keeping her distance. She sat down on the edge of the plush mattress, her hands gripping the edge. "Is that the contract?"

Levi walked over, stepping into her space with that slow, deliberate grace. Instead of handing her the folder, he tossed it onto the dark wood nightstand beside her. He pulled up a sleek, modern armchair, turning it around to sit backward, his forearms resting on the backrest as he looked down at her.

"Before you sign, we establish the boundaries," Levi said, his expression completely unreadable. "This isn't a game, Lily. Once you step out of this penthouse as my fiancée, the entire city will be watching you. Every camera, every journalist, every business rival I have will be trying to dig up dirt on you."

Lily swallowed hard, looking at the folder. "What exactly do I have to do?"

"You play the part of a woman madly in love with me," Levi stated flatly, as if discussing a quarterly financial report. "You smile when I look at you. You let me hold your waist. You don't flinch when I touch you in public. And most importantly, you do not talk to Damian Cross unless I am standing right next to you."

The mention of Damian’s name sent a sharp, icy chill through her veins. "Why do you care if I talk to him?"

"Because you still have feelings for him," Levi said smoothly.

"I don't even remember him!" Lily shot back, her voice rising slightly. She stood up, unable to handle the weight of his gaze while sitting down. "I just... I remember the feeling of being safe with someone. And then he looked me in the eyes today and told me I was a stranger. I don't love him, Mr. Ford. I'm terrified of him."

Levi rose from his chair. He didn't rush, but his height immediately swallowed the distance between them. He stepped closer until Lily’s back pressed against the bedpost.

"Good," Levi murmured, leaning in slightly. The scent of him—rich, clean, and masculine—filled her senses. "Fear makes you sharp. Love makes you stupid. I need you sharp."

Lily looked up at him, her breath hitching at the sheer proximity. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. "Are you always this cold?"

A slow, dark amusement flickered in Levi's gray eyes. He reached out, his large hand wrapping gently but firmly around the back of her neck. His thumb rested right against her pulse point, feeling the erratic, wild thumping of her heart. His touch was warm, sending a strange, electric shiver straight down her spine.

"Only to people who can't offer me anything," Levi whispered, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin beneath her jaw. "But you... you are going to offer me the satisfaction of watching the Hart family bleed. So, I can be flexible."

Lily couldn't move. Her body felt paralyzed by the intense heat of his hand and the dark promise in his eyes. She wanted to pull away, to tell him that she wasn't a pawn, but the reality of her situation held her back. Without him, she was nothing.

"What are the financial terms?" Lily asked, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to focus on the business aspect of the arrangement.

Levi let go of her neck, the sudden absence of his touch making her feel strangely cold. He stepped back, reaching for the folder on the nightstand and flipping it open.

"A modern apartment in the upper east side, fully staffed, under your name. A monthly allowance of fifty thousand dollars for your personal expenses, separate from the wardrobe budget. And a legal team dedicated solely to preparing the identity theft lawsuit against Evangeline Cole," Levi read, his eyes scanning the pages before looking back up at her. "All of this becomes yours the moment you sign."

Lily stared at the black ink on the white paper. It was a golden cage, but it was better than the freezing rain. She walked to the desk, picked up the sleek silver pen resting on top of the folder, and turned to the final page.

She didn't hesitate. She signed her name: Lily Grace Hart.

Levi watched her cap the pen. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips, one that didn't reach his cold eyes.

"Welcome to the Ford family, Lily," he said, taking the folder from her hand. He turned toward the door but paused, looking back over his shoulder. "Get some sleep. The stylists arrive at six in the morning. And Lily?"

"Yes?"

Levi’s gaze darkened, his voice dropping into a warning whisper. "There's one more thing you should know before tomorrow night. Damian Cross didn't just choose Evangeline because she had your ID. He helped her plan the car crash that almost killed you."