The silence inside the Maybach was absolute. Cassie could hear the blood rushing in her own ears.
She gripped the fabric of her torn dress, knuckles turning white. She braced for Dane to yell, to order the driver to pull over, to throw her out onto the highway.
Dane didn't move. He sat perfectly still against the leather seat. His dark eyes remained locked on her face, completely devoid of surprise or anger.
"And?" Dane asked. His voice was flat, carrying no inflection.
Cassie's eyes went wide. The single word shattered her defenses.
"And?" Cassie repeated, her voice rising. "I am a fraud. I am a stranger with a ruined face. They tricked you." She pointed aggressively at her scarred cheek, trying to force a reaction.
Dane's jaw clenched. He leaned forward.
His massive frame closed the distance in a second. The physical pressure of his body forced Cassie to press her back hard against the car door.
He reached out. His long, calloused fingers clamped firmly around her jaw. He tilted her head up, forcing her to look directly into his eyes.
Their faces were inches apart. She could feel the heat of his breath on her lips.
His thumb moved. The rough pad slowly traced the jagged edge of her fake scar. The friction sent a sharp thrill straight down her spine. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
"Are you sure you don't remember?" Dane asked. His voice was a low, dangerous whisper. His eyes bored into hers, searching frantically for something.
Cassie stared back, her brow furrowing. She searched her memory, trying to find any connection to this terrifying billionaire.
Nothing. Completely blank.
"Remember what?" Cassie whispered, her voice trembling.
Dane stared at the pure confusion in her eyes.
A heavy, dark shadow of disappointment crashed over his features. The intense fire in his eyes died instantly. The muscles in his jaw ticked.
His fingers loosened their grip on her jaw. He pulled his hand back and retreated to his side of the car. He turned his head, staring out the tinted window. His sharp profile looked carved from ice.
Cassie rubbed her jaw where his fingers had pressed. The skin felt hot.
"If you want to cancel the marriage, we can sign the divorce papers today," Cassie said, testing the waters.
Dane's head snapped back around.
His eyes were feral. The suppressed violence in his posture exploded back to the surface.
"Never say that word to me again," Dane snarled. The sheer aggression in his voice made Cassie shrink back against the door.
"As long as you have that birthmark on your neck, you are my wife," he declared, leaving absolutely no room for debate.
Cassie swallowed hard. Her mind spun with questions, but the suffocating aura radiating from him forced her to keep her mouth shut.
The Maybach exited the highway and plunged into the chaotic traffic of Manhattan. Neon lights from storefronts reflected off the tinted windows, casting harsh, moving shadows across Dane's face. Neither of them spoke.
The car finally pulled through the massive iron gates of Frederick Manor and glided to a stop in front of the main fountain.
The driver opened Dane's door.
Dane stepped out. He didn't wait for her. He didn't look back. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked up the front steps with long, aggressive strides.
Cassie climbed out. The cool evening wind whipped her torn dress around her legs. She watched his broad back disappear through the front doors.
She walked into the brightly lit foyer. Bradshaw stepped forward to take her coat, but she waved him off.
She looked down the long hallway. The heavy mahogany door to Dane's study was slightly ajar.
Cassie stood in the foyer for a long moment. Her heels clicked sharply against the hardwood as she made her decision and walked toward the study.
She pushed the heavy door open.
The rich scent of cedar, old paper, and expensive tobacco filled her lungs. Dane stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to her.
He held a crystal glass of whiskey. He took a slow sip, not turning around.
"Why?" Cassie asked, her voice cutting through the quiet room. "Why are you so obsessed with a stranger?"
Dane slowly lowered the glass.
He turned around. The dim light from the desk lamp cast deep shadows across his face, making his expression impossible to read.
He walked to the massive oak desk, placed both hands flat on the polished wood, and leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers.
"I can destroy the Gilmore family completely," Dane said, his voice smooth and laced with dark temptation. "I can give you everything."
Cassie's breath hitched. Her eyes widened.
"But," Dane continued, his eyes narrowing, "you have to remember where we met. On your own."
Cassie's eyebrows pulled together. A sharp ache throbbed behind her temples. The condition was impossible.
Before she could open her mouth to argue, a violent buzzing erupted from her handbag.
The sudden noise shattered the heavy tension.
Cassie pulled her phone out. The screen lit up the dim space.
The name "Jamey" flashed across the screen.
A cold, vicious wave of hatred washed over Cassie. Her grip on the phone tightened until her knuckles ached. Her eyes turned to absolute ice.
