Cadence POV:
I sat stiffly in the plush velvet chair, my face a blank mask. My fingers traced the condensation on a glass of ice water, the cold seeping into my skin. It was the only thing I could feel.
My mother, Joyce, had called me that morning, her anxiety a palpable hiss through the phone.
"Get rid of that usual expression," she warned. "You're meeting a powerful Alpha this time. You can't afford to offend him."
An Alpha. Again. The word left a sour taste in my mouth. I was sick of it. Sick of them. Now I was alone, waiting.
The door to the private room swung open.
A man walked in, and the air in the room instantly changed. He was tall, impossibly so, with a presence that seemed to suck all the oxygen out of the space. His black suit was tailored to perfection, fitting broad shoulders and a lean frame. Beneath a sweep of dark hair, his eyes were the color of ice and storm clouds.
His gaze flickered over the empty seat beside me before landing on me. It was a heavy look, deep and unreadable, and it made the fine hairs on my arms stand up.
He moved to the chair directly opposite mine and sat with a casual grace that was at odds with the raw power emanating from him. With a dismissive wave of his hand toward the hovering waiter, he spoke. His voice was calm, yet it held an undeniable command.
"Leave us. I'd like to speak with Miss Ruiz alone."
The waiter immediately scurried out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
Now it was just the two of us. The silence was thick with tension.
I decided to break it first. My voice came out colder than I intended. "Sir, are you the person I'm meeting on this blind date? I don't think we need to waste each other's time."
"Oh?" One of his dark eyebrows arched in amusement. He pulled a silver Zippo from his pocket, his long fingers flicking it open and closed with a series of sharp, rhythmic clicks. He didn't light it. "And why is that?"
The repetitive sound grated on my raw nerves, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I just ended a relationship. I have absolutely no interest in starting a new one. This meeting was my mother's idea, not mine."
I expected him to be annoyed, perhaps even insulted. Instead, a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "That's a coincidence. I have no interest in a so-called 'relationship' either."
I stared at him, my carefully constructed defenses faltering. That was not the answer I expected.
He leaned forward, lacing his hands on the table. Those ice-gray eyes held a glint of something I couldn't decipher—was it amusement? Or something else entirely? "I require a partner in name only. Someone to satisfy the elders in my pack. And you, Miss Ruiz, you require a powerful ally to escape your current... predicament. Am I wrong?"
His words hit their mark with surgical precision. A cold dread washed over me. He knew. Somehow, he knew everything.
My posture stiffened. "You investigated me?"
"Understanding a potential partner is basic courtesy," he replied, his tone smooth and noncommittal. The Zippo clicked shut.
Silence descended again, but this time it was filled with the frantic whirring of my own thoughts. An escape. A way out from under Karter's shadow, from my mother's suffocating control. This man, this powerful, unnerving Alpha, was offering me a lifeline.
It was a dangerous, reckless idea.
I bit down on my lower lip, the small pain grounding me. I made a decision. A bold one.
"Alright," I said, my voice steady now. "But I have conditions."
He gestured with one hand, a silent 'go on,' his eyes watching me with an unnerving intensity.
"I propose a one-year partnership agreement," I stated, the words feeling foreign and powerful on my tongue. "For the duration of the contract, we live separate lives. We do not interfere with each other's personal affairs. We only play the part of a devoted couple when absolutely necessary."
I took a breath, steeling myself. "After one year, the contract is terminated. We part ways, no strings attached. In return, I need your backing. I need your power to help me take back what is mine."
I braced myself for him to laugh, to negotiate, to call me delusional.
But Kane Reynolds just stared at me for a long, silent moment. Then, a slow, enigmatic smile spread across his lips. It didn't quite reach his eyes, but it held a strange sort of satisfaction.
"Done," he said.
He agreed so quickly it felt unreal. It threw me off balance.
He pushed his chair back and stood, towering over me. "Let's go take care of it now."
My head snapped up. "Now?"
"I like efficiency." He extended his hand to me. "City Hall. We can have it done in fifteen minutes."
I stared at his outstretched hand. His palm was broad, his fingers long. This was madness. Utter madness.
But it was also my only way out.
After a moment that stretched into an eternity, I placed my hand in his. His skin was warm and dry, his grip firm, pulling me to my feet with a strength that left no room for argument.
We didn't speak on the ride over. The world outside the tinted windows of his car blurred into a meaningless stream of light and color.
At the cold, sterile counter of the City Hall clerk's office, the world came back into sharp focus. The thud of the official stamp was deafening in the quiet room.
The clerk, a woman with tired eyes, slid a piece of paper across the counter. A marriage certificate.
My eyes found his name printed next to mine: Kane Reynolds.
As of this moment, he was my husband. My legal, lawfully-wedded husband.
