LOGINI didn’t sleep at all.
Lying on my back, I watched the ceiling fade from black to gray, counting familiar cracks I knew by heart. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind filled with my mother’s face in the ICU, pale, still, machines breathing for her. After a while, I stopped trying. Lying there with my eyes closed wasn’t rest anyway.
At six, the alarm sounded unnecessary. I turned it off and sat up, stiff and slow, my body lagging behind my thoughts.
Sebastian’s number was already on my screen. I must have pulled it up before dawn, when focusing on details felt safer than feeling anything at all.
I stared at the screen longer than needed before pressing call.
It rang once.
“Mr. Ryn,” Sebastian said, alert, as if he’d been waiting. “I wasn’t sure you’d call.”
“I will,” I said, surprising myself with a steady voice. “I’ll do it. I’ll marry him.”
He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice sounded different.
“I’ll send a car at seven. Pack only essentials, clothes, and personal items. Everything else will be provided.”
“My mother’s surgery,” I blurted faster than I intended. “When will it happen?”
“This afternoon,” he replied. “The medical team is ready. Once the contract is signed, everything proceeds immediately.”
I swallowed. “When do I meet Aldric?”
“At the signing,” Sebastian said. “Nine a.m. at Fenmore Group headquarters. You’ll have legal representation and time to review the contract.”
“I don’t have a lawyer.”
“One will be provided. Mr. Fenmore insists the contract is legally sound. No future claims of coercion.”
Of course he does, I thought.
“Fine,” I said. “Seven.”
“Caelen,” Sebastian said.
It was the first time he used my name.
“Yes?”
“For what it’s worth,” he added carefully, “you’re making the right choice.”
The line went dead.
I packed in silence.
My suitcase looked too small on the bed. It felt wrong that everything I owned fit inside it. I folded clothes that still faintly smelled of detergent and cheap fabric softener. Everything fit too easily.
I added toiletries, my charger, and my laptop. Then I hesitated, reaching for the photo albums, my parents on their wedding day, my mother smiling at graduation, her hand on my shoulder. I slid the acceptance letter from the marketing firm between the pages, even though it meant nothing now.
At the last second, I grabbed the small stuffed bear from the closet. I hadn’t touched it in years, but I couldn’t leave it behind.
I walked through the apartment one last time. The desk. The kitchen. The window. The bed. Every corner held something I wasn’t ready to leave.
I shut the door quietly behind me.
The car arrived exactly at seven.
The man waiting outside nodded and took my suitcase without a word, though his eyes flickered at its size. The car was sleek, quiet, with soft classical music playing.
As we drove, the city slipped past, my favorite café, campus, and my mother’s apartment. I looked away when it disappeared from view.
My phone buzzed.
Hey. How’s your mom? Want to grab coffee later?
I stared at the message until the screen dimmed, then turned off the phone.
Fenmore Group rose above everything else, all glass and steel, impossible to miss. The car vanished into a private entrance, and I was escorted through security into an elevator that moved smoothly upward.
Sebastian was waiting when the doors opened.
“You look exhausted,” he said.
“I didn’t sleep.”
He nodded as if that was expected. “Coffee?”
“Yes.”
The conference room was vast and quiet, sunlight pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows. The city looked small from here. Sebastian poured coffee and slid a cup toward me.
“The legal team will arrive soon,” he said. “Mr. Fenmore will join us at nine.”
“What’s he like?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Sebastian considered. “Private. Controlled. He doesn’t waste words.”
“Will he be cold?”
“I don’t know,” Sebastian said. Some people stay cold because it’s easier,” he said. Whether he takes it off depends on many things.”
The lawyers arrived. The contract was thick. Angela went through the contract slowly, stopping whenever I tensed. Separate bedrooms. No forced intimacy. My mother’s care is covered for life.
By the time Aldric Fenmore entered, my hands were damp.
He was taller and broader than I expected. His presence filled the room effortlessly. His gaze settled on me.
“You’re smaller than the file indicated,” he said.
That was the first thing he said.
We shook hands. His grip was firm, impersonal. He sat, glanced at his watch, and nodded at the papers.
“Any questions?”
I had hundreds.
“No,” I said.
He signed without hesitation.
I followed.
My hand shook as I signed.
When it was over, he stood. “The wedding is tomorrow. Sebastian will give details. Your room is prepared.”
“My mother’s surgery,” I blurted.
“Scheduled for 1 p.m. You’ll be informed,” he said.
He paused at the door. “Welcome to the Fenmore family.”
Then he left.
The estate was larger than I’d imagined, with manicured grounds, fountains, and staff moving silently and efficiently.
My room was bigger than my entire apartment.
When Sebastian called to say the surgery went perfectly, I sank onto the bed, pressing my face into my hands. I didn’t know whether to breathe or cry, so I did both.
That night, alone in the silence, I stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, my name won’t belong only to me.
I closed my eyes.
I did not sleep.Caelen POVThe car pulled away from the chapel in silence. Aldric's phone lit his face in blue-white light as his thumbs moved across the screen. Business is always a business.I leaned my forehead against the window and watched the city slip by. There was the convenience store where I used to work, the bus stop I’d waited at so many times, and the café where Mira and I dreamed over cheap coffee.It was all slipping away.As we approached, the gates opened on their own. The fountain appeared first, water spraying from marble dolphins. Then I saw the mansion, three stories of cream-colored stone, its windows shining in the afternoon sun, empty and unreadable.The car stopped.Aldric's phone disappeared into his pocket. "I have calls to make. Dinner is at seven."Then he was gone.*************My room looked different in the afternoon light.My small suitcase rested on the luggage rack, looking out of place. Someone had unpacked it while we were at the ceremony. My laptop was on the de
Caelen POV The next morning arrived without me. I didn’t wake so much as surface, my eyes already burning, my body weighed down by exhaustion that didn’t soften anything. The house was silent, but not the ordinary kind. It felt deliberate. The kind of quiet that only exists because someone decided it should. Somewhere down the hall, a door closed softly. Footsteps crossed thick carpet, unhurried and precise. Nothing rushed. Nothing felt accidental. When Sebastian knocked, I was already sitting up, staring at the wall as if it might tell me what to do. “Good morning,” he said, as if mornings still belonged to normal people. “I’ll show you the essentials.” I followed him because there was nowhere else. The house was too big. That was the first thought that settled as we moved down the wide corridor toward the stairs. Not beautiful. Not impressive. Just too big. Big enough that my body felt misplaced, like I had wandered into something that wasn’t meant to notice me. The foyer op
I didn’t sleep at all.Lying on my back, I watched the ceiling fade from black to gray, counting familiar cracks I knew by heart. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind filled with my mother’s face in the ICU, pale, still, machines breathing for her. After a while, I stopped trying. Lying there with my eyes closed wasn’t rest anyway.At six, the alarm sounded unnecessary. I turned it off and sat up, stiff and slow, my body lagging behind my thoughts.Sebastian’s number was already on my screen. I must have pulled it up before dawn, when focusing on details felt safer than feeling anything at all.I stared at the screen longer than needed before pressing call.It rang once.“Mr. Ryn,” Sebastian said, alert, as if he’d been waiting. “I wasn’t sure you’d call.”“I will,” I said, surprising myself with a steady voice. “I’ll do it. I’ll marry him.”He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice sounded different.“I’ll send a car at seven. Pack only essentials, clothes, and personal ite
Caelen POVFor a moment, I didn’t know where I was. My body felt heavy, like I’d been pulled out of sleep instead of waking up. I fumbled for the phone on the bedside table, blinking at the unfamiliar number.“Hello?” My voice sounded thick and unused.“Is this Caelen Ryn?”I sat up, the sheet slipping down my legs. My heart pounded, though I didn’t know why. “Yes. Speaking.”“This is City General Hospital. Your mother, Eleanor Ryn, was brought in by ambulance about forty-five minutes ago. She’s in the ICU. You need to come immediately.”The words didn’t land right. ICU. Ambulance. None of it felt real.“What happened? Is she awake? Is she...”“The doctor will explain when you arrive,” the nurse said, calm but distant, trained to be professional. “Please come now.”The line went dead.I stared at my phone, thumb still pressed to the screen. The room felt too small, too quiet. The alarm clock glowed 6:02 a.m. on the dresser.Without thinking, I grabbed jeans, a sweater, and shoes. Wall
Caelen POV(Flashback - 48 Hours Before)I woke before the alarm, the pale morning light slipping through the thin curtains as it always did. It hit the far wall first, warming the peeling paint instead of making it look tired. I stayed still, listening: pipes humming somewhere in the building, a neighbor’s radio muffled through the wall, footsteps above me. Ordinary sounds I’d heard a thousand times, but that morning they settled differently.When the alarm chimed softly and unassumingly, I shut it off immediately. My mother hated snoozing alarms, saying they taught the body to argue with itself. Even alone, I made the bed as soon as my feet hit the floor, sheets smoothed, pillow straightened, small acts of control in a room where nothing ever surprised me anymore.The apartment was small but spotless. Everything had a place because it had to. The couch was secondhand, the table too small for more than two, the chair slightly uneven, but I arranged it all with care. Three plants sat
Caelen POVThe plastic chairs in the ICU waiting room stopped hurting hours ago. Now I barely noticed them at all.The lights flickered overhead, harsh and uneven, making everything look wrong somehow. The sharp scent of antiseptic clung to my clothes, mixed with the chemical smell of floor cleaner that never seemed to go away. Somewhere down the hall, a monitor beeped steadily. Elsewhere, a voice over the PA called someone I didn’t know, calm and impersonal.My sneakers squeaked on the linoleum as I paced back and forth. I’d worn the soles thin from standing behind counters and registers, and now they betrayed every restless step. I pressed my hands to my thighs, then started again instinctively.I hadn’t slept in thirty-six hours.My body was breaking down, even though my thoughts kept racing. My hands trembled from too much coffee and too little food. The name tag from the convenience store still hung crooked on my wrinkled uniform. I’d meant to change after my shift, go home, do







