Chapter 2: The Price of a Night

The morning light in Celios was cold as it streaked through the windows of the Suite.

Gabrielle stirred as consciousness—and memory—returned. The bed beside her was empty, the silk sheets cold.

She tried to sit up, but a sharp ache radiated through her body, reminding her of her transition from a girl to a woman.

"Waking up at 9AM? Your stamina is bad."

The voice was like a bucket of iced water. Gabrielle bolted upright, clutching the duvet to her chest.

Ethan sat across the room in a velvet armchair, fully dressed in a crisp black suit, tie knotted with precision. Tablet in one hand, coffee in the other, he looked like a god who had just closed a deal.

Gabrielle’s face flushed - not with desire, but with a stinging sense of humiliation. "Mr. Shore..."

He held up a hand, silencing her. He set his coffee down and slid a slip of paper across the marble table. "I believe this is what you were after."

Gabrielle looked at the paper. It was a check.

Five million dollars.

“For a first-timer, your service was adequate,” Ethan said flatly, his obsidian gaze skimming her without interest. “Take the money. Sign the Non-Disclosure Agreement my assistant will bring. If a single word leaks, the Daniels won’t survive the day.”

The air in the room felt thin. Gabrielle looked at the check, then at the man who treated her like a common escort. Yesterday, she was the pampered eldest daughter of the Daniels. Today, she was a "service" to be paid for.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the check.

Ethan’s lip curled in a sneer. They’re all the same, he thought. Greedy. Predatory.

Rrip.

The sound was sharp in the quiet room.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. Gabrielle had torn the check in half. Then she tore it again. And again. The scraps of paper fluttered to the carpet like mocking snowflakes.

"I don't want your money, Mr. Shore," Gabrielle said, her voice shaking but her gaze steady. She forced herself to look him in the eye, despite the terrifying aura he projected.

Ethan rose, his shadow stretching across the bed as he approached. He leaned in close, the air thick, his scent surrounding her.

"Then what do you want? Jewelry? Villa? Or the position of a mistress?" He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Let me warn you, I have no patience for women who play hard to raise their price."

"I want a marriage certificate," Gabrielle whispered.

The silence that followed was deafening. Ethan let out a short, dry laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "Marriage? You think one night gives you the right to the Shore family’s crown? You’re more delusional than I thought."

"My family is on the edge of bankruptcy," Gabrielle said, the words spilling out in a rush. "My stepmother is trying to sell me to President Brute. Last night, your 'help' saved me for a few hours, but the moment I walk out that door, I am a hunted animal. You, however, have a problem too."

Ethan’s eyes flickered. "Oh?"

"Your grandfather," Gabrielle continued, her heart racing. "Old Master Shore, has issued an ultimatum. If you aren't married by your 30th birthday next month, your cousin Henry Shore inherits the 30% controlling stake in the corporation. You need a wife who is clean, has a respectable background but powerless, and who is desperate enough to sign any contract you put in front of her."

She took a breath, her knuckles white as she gripped the duvet. "I am that woman. I don't want your love or your fortune. I want a shield. Give me your name for one year, and I will be the perfect, invisible wife. After that, we divorce, and I disappear."

Ethan stared at her, his expression unreadable, then he pulled away and walked to the window, watching the traffic below. He was a man of logic and calculation. He did need a wife to pacify his grandfather and secure his position. Anyone he picked from the high-society circles would come with a web of baggage and greedy relatives.

Gabrielle was different. She was a woman with back against the wall. She was easy to control. Or so he thought.

"One year," Ethan said, turning back. "No public displays of affection unless required. No entering my private quarters without permission. No interference in my life. And the moment the divorce papers are signed, you leave with nothing."

"Deal," Gabrielle said, a wave of relief washing over her so strongly she felt lightheaded.

"Get dressed," he commanded, checking his Patek Philippe watch. "We’re going to the Civil Affairs Bureau."

Two hours later, Gabrielle stood outside the government building, a small red booklet in her hand.

Gabrielle Daniels and Ethan Shore.

She was now the most powerful woman in Celios, on paper at least.

"My assistant, Welma Find, will take you to the Shore Estate to settle in," Ethan said, not even looking at her as he stepped toward his black Rolls-Royce. "I have meetings until midnight. Don't wait up."

"Wait!" Gabrielle called out.

Ethan paused, his hand on the car door. "What?"

"I need to go back to the Daniels house first," she said, her eyes darkening with a cold, sharp light. "I have some things to pack. And some debts of my own to settle."

Ethan looked at her. He saw the bruises on her wrists from the night before, same as the unyielding steel in her spine. A glimmer of interest flickered across his face.

"Welma," Ethan said to his assistant. "Take the Madam to the Daniels residence. If anyone lays a finger on her, you know what to do."

He looked at Gabrielle. "Don't embarrass me. You’re a Shore now."

As the Rolls-Royce sped away, Gabrielle turned to the sleek black Audi waiting for her. She wasn't that broken girl anymore, she was a queen with a borrowed sword, and it was time to go to war.