Chapter 7 - The Man Who Refused To be Paid

Adrian woke up to an empty bed and five hundred dollars on his nightstand.

He stared at it for a full minute.

No woman had ever left money for him. Women left perfume. Women left numbers. Women left tears. Women begged him to stay, to call, to marry them. No one had ever paid him like he was something she had hired for the night.

His jaw tightened. The arrogant smirk that usually sat on his face was gone.

"James," he barked.

James Park entered at once, already in his black suit, earpiece in place. "Sir?"

"Find her." Adrian picked up the money between two fingers like it was poison. "Ava Miller. Twenty-four. Vale Enterprises. I want everything about her in one hour. Where she lives, where she goes, who she talks to. Everything."

"Yes, sir."

Adrian dressed in silence. His hands were steady, but his mind was not. He kept seeing her face from last night. The way she had walked up to him on the terrace, bottle in her hand, eyes full of fire and grief. The way she had said, "Can you make me forget?" The way she had cried without knowing it.

And then she had left money.

He had been used for money once before, five years ago, by a woman he had loved. She had taken everything and left. He had sworn no woman would ever make him feel that small again.

Now this girl, this heiress who had just lost everything, had done it again, with five hundred dollars.

He would find her. Not because he wanted revenge. Because he needed to understand why the insult hurt more than any business loss ever had.

Meanwhile, I was walking nowhere.

I had no money for a taxi. My phone battery was at 4%. My accounts were still frozen. I had walked for two hours through New York, past coffee shops I could not afford, past boutiques I used to shop in without thinking.

My mother's face kept coming back to me. The tablet screen. Her thin smile. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

How could I save her with nothing? How could I pay $500,000 in seven days when I didn't even have $500 anymore?

I found myself on the East River bridge without really choosing to go there. The wind was strong. The water below was dark and fast. Cars passed behind me, horns, noise, life going on.

I stood at the railing and looked down.

It would be so easy. One step. No more pain. No more being the spare. No more watching my family choose Sophie. No more failing my mother.

My phone buzzed. Low battery warning. 2%.

I closed my eyes.

"Ava Miller."

The voice cut through the wind like a blade.

I turned. Adrian Blackwood stood a few feet away, in a fresh black suit, his bodyguards behind him, his grey eyes locked on me like he had been searching for hours. Which he had.

"Step away from the railing," he said. His voice was not soft. It was command.

"How did you find me?" I whispered.

"James found your phone signal. You were about to do something stupid."

"My life is already stupid," I said. Tears came again, hot and fast. "My family threw me away. My accounts are frozen. My mother will die in seven days if I don't pay $500,000. What am I supposed to do?"

He walked toward me slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal. When he was close enough, he grabbed my wrist. Not hard. Firm. Like he would not let go.

"You are not jumping," he said. "Not while I am standing here."

"Why do you care?" I shouted. "You don't even know me! Last night was a mistake! I paid you! We are done!"

His eyes flashed. He pulled the $500 from his pocket and held it up in the wind.

"This?" he said. "You think this pays for last night? You think you can afford me, sweetheart?"

I froze.

"You can't afford me," he said, low and dangerous. "No one can. But I have a proposition for you."

I laughed, bitter. "What? Another night?"

"No. A marriage."

The wind stopped. Or maybe I just stopped hearing it.

"One year," he continued. "Contract marriage. I will pay your mother's $500,000 bill tomorrow morning. In full. I will help you destroy Liam and Sophie and take back Vale Enterprises. In return, you will be my wife for one year. You will give me what my board is demanding from me."

"What does your board want?" I asked.

"An heir," he said. "I need a wife within 30 days or they strip me of my CEO title. I need a child within the year. You need money. I need a wife. We both need revenge."

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it over the river.

"And after one year?" I asked.

"We divorce. You walk away rich, free, and Chairwoman of Vale. I keep my empire. Clean. Business."

He held out his hand again. The same way he had on the terrace.

This time, I didn't take it right away.

"Why me?" I asked. "You could have any woman in New York."

"Because you are the only woman who ever paid me and walked away," he said. "And because last night, for the first time in five years, I didn't feel alone."

I looked at the water. I looked at his hand. I looked at the $500 fluttering in his other hand.

I took his hand.

"Okay," I said. "One year."

Adrian Blackwood smiled then. Not the arrogant smirk. A real smile. Possessive. Triumphant. Dangerous.

"Then let's go sign it, Mrs. Contract Bride."