Kaia turned away from the crowded banquet hall. Her legs felt like they were made of wood as she walked across the marble lobby.
She got into the back of the Maybach. "Take me back to the penthouse by Central Park. Now."
The car descended into the underground garage. She stepped into the private elevator and rode it directly to the top floor.
She pushed open the heavy front door. The apartment was pitch black. The air inside was stale and freezing, smelling like a place no one actually lived in.
She didn't turn on the main chandelier. She flicked on a single floor lamp. She dropped her Birkin bag onto the white sofa.
Kaia walked to the kitchen island. She poured a glass of lukewarm water, shook two heavy painkillers out of a bottle, and swallowed them dry to suppress the sharp, stabbing pain in her abdomen.
She kicked off her high heels. Her bare feet hit the freezing marble floor. She walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and stared down at the glowing grid of Manhattan.
An hour passed. The electronic lock on the front door beeped loudly.
Gerrit walked in. He brought the smell of cold night wind and a faint trace of expensive whiskey with him.
He reached up and yanked his tie loose. He saw Kaia standing by the window. The irritation instantly returned to his face, hardening his features.
He ignored her entirely. He walked straight to the bar and poured himself a glass of amber liquid.
Kaia turned around. She took a deep breath, feeling the air scrape against her throat. "I need to talk to you."
Gerrit took a sip of his drink, keeping his back to her. "Make it fast. I have zero patience for you tonight."
Kaia took two steps toward his back. "I will sign over complete control of the Woodward family trust fund to you."
Gerrit's hand froze. He slowly turned around. His sharp eyes locked onto her face, scanning her for the trap.
Kaia stared directly into his eyes. "On one condition. For the next three months, you will stay here and play the role of a perfect, loving husband."
The air in the room stopped moving. The suspicion in Gerrit's eyes morphed into absolute disgust.
He slammed his glass down on the marble counter. The sharp crack echoed in the empty room.
He closed the distance between them in three long strides. He towered over her.
He raised his hand and clamped his fingers around her jaw. He squeezed hard, forcing her head up to look at him.
"Do you honestly think," Gerrit sneered, his breath hitting her face, "that the heir to the Downs family can be bought to act as your male escort?"
The pressure on her jaw sent a sharp pain shooting into her skull. Her eyes burned. "Please, Gerrit. I just need three months."
Gerrit yanked his hand away like her skin burned him. He wiped his fingers on his slacks.
"Even if you handed me the entire Woodward family on a silver platter, I wouldn't feel a single ounce of affection for you," he said, his voice dripping with venom.
He stepped closer, making sure every word hit her. "I only love Seraphina. This three-year marriage to you makes me physically sick."
The words hit her chest like a physical blow. Kaia swayed on her feet. Her hand shot to her stomach, pressing hard against the sudden, violent cramp.
Gerrit looked at her hand. He let out a harsh scoff. "Save the cheap acting. It won't work."
He grabbed his suit jacket from the stool. He turned and walked down the long hallway toward the guest bedroom. "I don't want to see your face for the rest of the night."
The heavy oak door of the guest room slammed shut. The sound vibrated through the floorboards.
Kaia stood alone in the center of the massive living room. A single tear broke free and slid down her cheek. The last shred of hope in her chest died, leaving behind a cold, hollow emptiness.
