Chapter 6

Margot POV

Everything moved too damn fast.

Gerald Hargrave’s lawyer found me first.

Contracts. Signatures.

A legal acknowledgment that made us father and daughter on paper.

I refused to take his last name.

He didn’t push. The same man who’d walked out on my mother years ago now needed me to claim him.

The irony sat thick and bitter on my tongue, but the money made it easier to swallow.

Then the check arrived.

A string of zeros that hit harder than any perfect data set I’d ever run.

My hands actually shook when I looked at it.

Pay off every debt.

That left a little over two million.

 Not enough for a house in cash, but more than enough for a solid down payment.

Ellen had insurance and a pension.

 My salary would cover the rest: treatment, mortgage, groceries.

For the first time in years, the weight on my chest eased.

The future didn’t feel like it was actively trying to bury me.

I still did not know how to explain the money to Ellen.

Regarding the marriage, I would keep it a secret for as long as possible.

The next morning I took another half-day.

Rhett Vanderbilt and I showed up at the Pack Alliance Council’s marriage office before the doors officially opened, ducking any chance of press.

Even someone with his money still had to appear in person.

 I could feel the low thrum of irritation rolling off him while we signed, stamped, and pressed our palms to the registration form.

Two bright red handprints side by side.

When it was done, he left without another word.

I stood there, holding the certificate, staring at those prints.

 In all the years of debt, I’d never let myself imagine marrying anyone.

I couldn’t drag someone else down with me.

Rhett had been the secret piece of candy I kept in my pocket, something sweet to taste when the days got too dark.

 A placebo. Nothing more.

Except he wasn’t.

He’d pulled me out of the dark twice.

First, when the silver poisoning hit, every Alpha in the room started losing control.

Only Rhett’s scent—dark, controlled, impossibly steady—had cut through the chaos and kept me from becoming something unspeakable.

 Second time he’d dropped out of nowhere and erased a debt that should have buried me for good.

I was a scientist. I didn’t believe in fate.

Standing there with that certificate in my hands, Lisa stirred anyway, quiet and uncertain, like she was waiting for something.

The lawyer’s voice pulled me back.

He took the papers, slid them into a slim folder, then into his briefcase.

“I’ll keep these secure. There’s a car waiting to take you to Alpha Vanderbilt’s residence.”

I checked my watch.

“I only took a half-day.”

He gave a polite, practiced smile.

“You’re Alpha Vanderbilt’s wife now. A few extra hours won’t be an issue. I’ll ride with you.”

The word wife scraped against something raw in my chest.

 The whole thing still felt like someone else’s life.

The car headed south.

 I watched the city thin out until we rolled into a gated villa district.

I pulled up the map on my phone.

Far from the lab. No subway nearby.

The lawyer glanced at the screen.

“Don’t worry. This car is yours now. Driver included.”

I shook my head.

 “That will not work. I can’t explain a car like this to my coworkers. It kills the low profile we’re supposed to keep.”

“You can work something out with the household staff.”

“Fine.”

We pulled into the underground garage.

A silver-haired man waited by the elevator, posture perfect, expression unreadable.

“Mrs. Vanderbilt. I’m Henry, the butler. Welcome home.”

“Hello.” I felt the cool wall of politeness for what it was.

 He wasn’t welcoming me. He was doing his job.

After the lawyer left, Henry gave me the tour.

Every room, every rule, every invisible line.

 Second floor, south side, my suite.

The third floor was Alpha’s private territory; do not go up without permission.

 I could eat in the dining room or in my room; if Henry suggested the room, it meant Rhett wanted space.

The gym and pool in the basement were free whenever the Alpha wasn’t using them.

 I felt less like a new wife and more like a temporary guest being shown the amenities of a costly hotel.

A hotel I could never afford and wouldn’t be staying in long.

My suite was easily the size of a small one-bedroom apartment.

Full bath, walk-in closet, everything already stocked.

I could live here without ever stepping outside if I wanted to. Perfect.

Henry stood in the doorway.

 “If the sheets aren’t soft enough, the toiletries aren’t your preferred brand, and the coffee isn’t right, just say the word.”