Dennie locked herself in the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face. Her hands were shaking.
She could hear him outside, on the phone with Felix. Drafting a new agreement.
She walked out. Holmes was sitting on the sofa, composed, as if they hadn't just wrestled on the floor.
"New terms," he said. "Three months. You play the perfect wife. We start IVF immediately. Once the pregnancy is confirmed and the board votes, you get fifty million." He added, "The vote is next quarter. A legally binding gestational contract and a confirmed medical report of pregnancy will be enough to secure the proxy."
"Not enough," she said. "Fifty million. Cash. Offshore account. Untraceable."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why cash? Planning to run?"
"Retirement," she said. "After crossing the Wilson family, I won't be employable in this city."
"Done," he said. "But there's a condition."
"What?"
"You move into my penthouse in the city. You stay within my sight for the next ninety days."
"That wasn't in the deal!"
"Risk management," he said coldly. "I can't have a spy running loose."
Dennie ground her teeth. But then she thought of Liam. The silence. The danger. Holmes's penthouse was a fortress. It might be the safest place in New York.
"Fine," she said. "But separate bedrooms."
He laughed. "Of course. You think I want to touch you? That's what the clinic is for."
They shook hands. His skin was warm.
That night, they had to share the bed. Mrs. Higgins was likely listening at the door.
They lay stiffly, a foot of space between them.
"Who taught you to fight?" he asked into the darkness.
"When you're set to marry into a family like yours," she lied smoothly, "you can afford the best instructors. Mine was ex-Mossad, I believe. He taught me how to handle myself."
She felt him stiffen. "This instructor... where is he now?"
"To me, yes."
He turned his back to her.
Late that night, her phone vibrated under her pillow.
It was a text from a scrambled number. Liam.
Compromised. They are looking for you. Trust no one.
She stared at the screen. The blue light illuminated Holmes's sleeping face. He was the enemy. He was the jailer. And now, he was the only shield she had.
