The morning sun hit Carole's eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed. She had not slept for a single minute.
A nurse brought in a tray of food. Carole opened her mouth to ask for a phone, but two massive guards stepped into the doorway, blocking her view. The nurse set the tray down and left quickly.
Carole pushed the tray away. Her stomach cramped violently from hunger.
Three floors down, Hollis gripped the edge of his desk. A sharp pain stabbed his stomach.
The door to the VIP room flew open. Hollis walked in. He looked at the torn pieces of paper in the trash can. His face turned to stone.
He walked to the bed. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
"Do you think tearing up a piece of paper changes anything?" Hollis asked.
"Kill me," Carole spat out. "That is the only way I will sign."
Hollis let go of her chin. He pulled his phone from his pocket. He tapped the screen and held it in front of her face.
A video started playing. It was a pool party at a mansion. The timestamp was from three years ago.
Carole's breath stopped. The memory flooded her brain. She had fallen into the deep end. She could not swim. She remembered the water filling her lungs, the darkness closing in, and then someone diving in after her.
"I was there," Hollis said, his voice dropping an octave. "You panicked. You dragged me down to the bottom. We both almost died."
Carole looked at his face. She finally recognized the dark shape of his eyes from that night.
"Because of a drowning accident?" Carole asked, her voice shaking.
"Extreme hypoxia," Hollis said. "Our nervous systems rewired. We are linked."
"That is impossible," Carole said, shaking her head. "That is science fiction."
Hollis stared at her. He reached over to the medical tray on the table. He picked up a silver scalpel.
He rolled up his left sleeve.
"Stop!" Carole yelled.
Hollis pressed the blade into his forearm and sliced downward. Blood welled up instantly, dripping onto the white floor.
Carole screamed. A burning, slicing agony ripped across her left forearm. She grabbed her arm, tears streaming down her face.
There was no cut on her skin. But the pain was real. It burned like fire.
She collapsed onto her knees, clutching her arm. "Why? Why me?"
Hollis dropped the scalpel. He knelt in front of her. He reached out with his bloody hand and lifted her chin.
"We are tied together," Hollis said softly, but his eyes were merciless. "You will live where I can see you. You will eat what I tell you. You will not get hurt."
"I will never marry you," Carole cried.
Hollis stood up. He grabbed her uninjured arm and pulled her to her feet. He dragged her out of the room.
They walked down the hall and pushed through the double doors to the roof. A black helicopter sat on the helipad, its blades spinning loudly.
The wind whipped Carole's hair across her face. She grabbed the door frame, trying to fight him. Hollis easily peeled her fingers off the metal.
He shoved her into the leather seat of the helicopter and climbed in next to her. The door slid shut.
The helicopter lifted off the roof. The city of Manhattan shrank below them.
Hollis pulled a fresh copy of the marriage agreement from his jacket. He dropped it on her lap.
"Sign it when we land at Blackwater Bay," Hollis said over the headset.
Carole stared at the words Blackwater Bay. It was his private fortress. She closed her eyes, the phantom pain in her arm still burning.
