The heavy mahogany door vibrated in its frame from the force of Donavan's exit. The air in the VIP lounge felt thick, suffocating.
Harper let out a long, exaggerated sigh. The fake sweetness melted off her face instantly.
She walked up to Carlota, leaning in close. Her voice dropped to a venomous hiss. "Don't ever think you can use a bastard to climb into high society. You are nothing."
Jared pushed his joystick. The wheelchair rolled forward, placing its metal footrest directly between Harper and Carlota, forcing Harper to step back.
"Get out," Jared commanded, his voice devoid of any warmth.
Harper sneered at him. She lifted the hem of her diamond-encrusted gown and marched out of the room, desperate to find Donavan and secure her position.
The moment the door clicked shut, the adrenaline left Carlota's body. Her knees buckled. She slid down the silk-lined wall, hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud.
Jared reached into the side compartment of his wheelchair. He pulled out a bottle of water, twisted the cap off, and held it out to her.
Carlota took it. Her fingers were freezing and shaking violently. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice raw.
Jared watched her pale face. His expression was serious. "Who is the real father of that child, Carlota?"
Carlota gripped the plastic bottle so hard it crinkled. She looked at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes. "A stranger. A guy I met at a bar. I don't even know his name."
A flicker of deep disappointment crossed Jared's eyes, but he didn't push her. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek business card.
Before he could hand it to her, Carlota's phone buzzed loudly in her clutch.
She pulled it out. The screen lit up with a text message from the billing department of Mount Sinai Hospital. It was a final notice. If the $150,000 balance for her younger brother Graham's experimental ventilator treatment wasn't paid by midnight, they would pull the plug.
Carlota stared at the numbers. A hot tear slipped down her cheek, splashing onto the screen. The crushing weight of absolute despair pushed her head down.
Jared glanced at the glowing screen. He read the text.
"I will pay all of Graham's medical bills," Jared said evenly. "Every single cent."
Carlota's head snapped up. She stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief and immediate suspicion. "What do you want in return?"
Jared pulled a thick manila envelope from the back pouch of his wheelchair. He handed it to her.
Carlota pulled out the stack of crisp white papers. The bold black letters at the top read: Contract of Marriage.
"I need a wife," Jared explained calmly. "The Pierce family trust fund stipulates that I must be married by my thirtieth birthday to inherit my shares. My stepmother is trying to force me to marry her niece to control me. You need money. I need a shield."
Carlota quickly scanned the clauses. The contract was for one year. It explicitly stated they would not interfere in each other's private lives. And, most importantly, it promised absolute physical and legal protection from outside threats.
She hesitated. Her stomach churned. Signing this meant cementing the lie that the baby was his. It meant drawing the wrath of the powerful Pierce family onto herself.
Jared rolled his wheelchair a few inches closer. "It is the only way you can permanently escape Donavan Raymond. You know he won't stop hunting you."
A violent shiver ran down Carlota's spine at the mention of Donavan's name. She remembered the dark, obsessive rage in his eyes. Her mental defenses crumbled into dust.
She closed her eyes. The image of her little brother, Graham, lying in a sterile hospital bed with tubes down his throat flashed in her mind.
Carlota opened her eyes. The fear was gone, replaced by a cold, hard determination. She held out her hand. "Give me a pen."
Jared handed her a silver fountain pen.
Carlota flipped to the last page. She pressed the nib to the paper and signed her name with heavy, sharp strokes.
Jared took the contract back, a faint smile of relief touching his lips. "We go to City Hall tomorrow morning to register."
He took off his tailored navy suit jacket and draped it over Carlota's shivering shoulders. The fabric was warm.
Jared led her out of the hotel through a private underground service elevator, completely avoiding the paparazzi swarming the main lobby.
Sitting in the back of Jared's armored Maybach, Carlota stared out the tinted window. The neon lights of the New York skyline blurred as they sped away. Her stomach tied in knots.
At that exact moment, in the penthouse suite of the Plaza Hotel, Donavan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window.
His special assistant stood nervously behind him, reporting that Jared and Carlota had left together in a private car.
Donavan squeezed the crystal whiskey glass in his hand. The glass shattered. Sharp shards sliced deep into his palm. Blood dripped onto the pristine white carpet.
He didn't even blink.
"Investigate every single place Carlota Hall went, every person she spoke to, exactly seven months ago," Donavan ordered, his voice dripping with lethal intent. "Leave no stone unturned."
