CHAPTER 4

Roxanne's POV

The rhythmic beep of the IV monitor felt like a countdown timer ticking away the seconds of my life. I stared at the small black USB drive dangling between Kiran Cross’s fingers, the tiny plastic shell holding the precise digital weight of my destruction—and potentially, my salvation.

"You know what's on that drive," I said, my voice cutting through the heavy quiet of the high-rise office. I refused to cower, pulling my shoulders back against the leather sofa despite the soreness radiating through my bruised muscles. "If the Sterlings find out I walked out of Crimson Heights with it, they’ll turn this entire city upside down until they find my corpse. And if you keep it, you're holding a ticking time bomb."

Kiran didn't blink. A dark, amused glint flickered in his eyes, the expression of a chess grandmaster watching an opponent make a desperate, cornered move. He walked slowly back around his glass desk, tossing the USB drive onto the polished surface with a soft clatter that sounded deafening in the silence.

"A time bomb, yes," Kiran agreed, his tone dangerously smooth as he settled back into his leather chair, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. "Or, depending on how it's played, a master key. The Sterling family owns half the municipal courts, a dozen real estate syndicates, and enough politicians to choke a jury. But do you know what they don't own, Roxy?"

I kept my eyes locked on his, waiting.

"Me," Kiran said simply. "For years, Victoria Sterling’s father has tried to buy my firm out, trying to bury every dirty asset and backroom settlement they've ever touched. They think money makes them untouchable. They think a marriage alliance with an ambitious corporate climber like your late, unlamented fiancé was going to solidify their dynasty forever."

A bitter knot tightened in my throat at the mention of Ethan, but I forced the emotion down, locking it away behind a wall of pure spite.

"Ethan chose his bed," I said coldly. "Literally. I'm not here to mourn a man who sold me out for a billionaire's last name."

"Good," Kiran murmured, a note of genuine approval sharpening his voice. "Sentimentality is a luxury for people who aren't currently being hunted by hired executioners. Which brings us to your current predicament, and why you are breathing warm air inside my office instead of cooling down in a police morgue."

He reached across the desk, tapping a sleek black stylus against a stack of crisp, printed documents that had been hidden from my view. He slid them forward across the glass surface.

I leaned forward, my eyes scanning the bold, formal headers typed across the top page. Marriage certificate applications, prenuptial asset delineations, confidentiality clauses, and high-society registry templates.

My breath hitched sharply. "What is this?"

"A proposal," Kiran said, his dark eyes fixing on mine with absolute, unyielding intensity. "You need a shield thick enough to deflect a murder investigation, a clean slate, and institutional protection that the city police won't dare touch. The Sterlings can frame a rogue bio-hazard cleaner without blinking an eye. But they cannot publicly execute, frame, or harass Mrs. Roxy Cross—the legally wedded wife of the most feared defense attorney and corporate fixer in the country."

I stared at the papers, my mind racing through the terrifying logic behind his words. "You want to get married? A fake marriage? Why would you put a target on your own back just to protect a random cleaner?"

"Because your little USB drive contains the unedited high-definition footage of Victoria’s brothers wiping down the primary suite before the police even arrived," Kiran replied calmly, leaning back as if we were discussing a routine business merger. "With that evidence, I can dismantle the Sterling empire's legal immunity piece by piece. But I need a legitimate, unquestionable catalyst to launch my counter-offensive. A high-profile marriage between a reclusive legal powerhouse and a grieving, recently orphaned heiress of a minor estate creates enough media smoke and public distraction to legally shield us both while we tear them apart from the inside."

"And my part?" I asked, my voice dropping to a tense whisper as I looked at the pen resting beside the contract. "What do I have to do?"

"You play your role," Kiran said, standing up and walking around the desk to stand directly in front of me, looking down with an expression that brooked no argument. "You stop running, you wipe off the industrial bleach, and you let me dress you in diamonds and silk. You walk into every high-society gala, charity auction, and corporate board meeting right by my side as my devoted, untouchable wife. You follow my lead, word for word, step for step."

He extended a heavy fountain pen toward me, the metallic nib catching the sharp overhead light.

"Accept my contract, Roxy, and I will give you the power, the resources, and the legal immunity to destroy the people who took everything from you," Kiran said softly, his voice dropping into a low, hypnotic hum. "Refuse, and you can walk out those glass doors right now into the freezing rain. Let's see how long you survive before the Sterling family's cleanup crew catches up to you."

My fingers closed around the cold metal of the pen. The weight of the choice settled squarely on my shoulders, heavy and absolute. I looked down at the documents, then up at the dangerous, unyielding man offering me a weapon disguised as a wedding ring.

Without another word, I lowered the tip of the pen to the paper and signed my name.