The Olympian Hotel felt like a fortress of glass and gold. Jenna showed the receptionist the card, and without a word, she was escorted to a private elevator.
The ride was too quiet, the air inside the lift pressurized and sterile.
Jenna caught her reflection in the mirrored doors. She looked small. Frayed. But as she straightened her shoulders, her eyes—the sharp, analytical eyes of a coder—remained steady. She refused to owe a Castilian. Especially not him.
The doors chimed. A tall man in a tailored suit met her. "This way, Miss Smith."
The penthouse was a monument to untouchable wealth. Every surface was polished to a lethal shine, reflecting the city lights like spilled diamonds.
Jenna didn't admire it; she felt the weight of it. Three years ago, she belonged in rooms like this. Now, she felt like a trespasser.
The assistant led her into a private study.
As she stepped inside, she felt the temperature drop instantly. The room was vast, dominated by a mahogany desk that looked like a monolith.
Behind it sat Eric Castilian. He didn't look like Scott. Where Scott was all youthful charm and hidden weakness, Eric was a predatory animal in a custom black suit. His eyes were glaciers—blue, piercing, and entirely unyielding.
"Miss Smith… Sit!" Eric's deep, commanding voice broke through the silence. He remained still, no smile, and his gaze pierced her as he had always done.
Jenna hesitated but sat, tensed. The air in the room felt heavy. Jenna swallowed hard but forced herself to meet his gaze. Those blue eyes were like Scott's but where Scott's held warmth in his, Eric's were always glaciers… cold and unyielding.
"Mr Castilian," she said, steadying her tone. "I assume it was you who paid my mother's bills."
He nodded faintly, nothing more.
"Why?" Jenna asked bluntly, refusing to be intimidated. "After everything that's happened… why help now? Your family didn't lift a finger when my father was arrested, not when we lost everything."
Eric leaned back slightly, the leather chair creaking under his weight. "My family…" he spoke of them like they were a separate entity. "My family has their priorities. I have mine."
Her fists clenched under the table. "And what are yours, pity?"
"For someone who was invited, you seem to ask a lot of questions, Miss Smith." A faint smirk touched his lips.
Jenna's lips pressed into a thin line.
"This isn't charity, Jenna. It's an investment." He slid a folder across the desk. "I know about your skills. Data science, encryption, the freelance hacking jobs you've taken under fake names."
Her stomach twisted, and she dug her fingers into her palms to calm herself down. He knew too much but she felt a relief of some kind, he didn't know enough.
"If this is about the money, I'll find a way to pay you back in full. I won't be indebted to you or your family, Mr. Castilian." Her voice was clear and steady she seemed to have found some bravery.
"You already are." He replied plainly, breaking whatever strength she had found. "A hundred and twenty thousand dollars excluding the recovery fees and rehabilitation costs, Doctor Hanfield is already scheduling the surgery as we speak."
Jenna bit her lip. At least her mother would live, but at what cost? "What do you want?"
Eric's lips curved into a victorious smirk. He passed another folder across the desk to her. "I have a job for you. It's simple, discreet, and well within your capabilities."
He pointed to the letterhead: STANTON GROUP.
"I need you to breach their system. Get me the details of their new software. Deliver this, and your debt is gone, plus five hundred thousand dollars."
Jenna's eyes widened. "That's illegal. I could go to jail."
"Only if you're caught," Eric replied, fiddling with a silver pen. "Stanton took your father's company. You'd just be taking back a tip of the iceberg."
"You're using me because I'm desperate."
"Not desperate but capable. That's why I chose you, Miss Smith." He corrected.
"And if I refuse?"
"The money disappears," he said calmly. "No surgery. No second chance for your mother."
Jenna's eyes turned cold. She thought of her mother's pale face and made a choice.
"What's in it for you, Mr. Castilian? You wouldn't risk this for no reason."
Eric leaned back. "Stanton is launching a software that could bury Castilian interests. I want the edge before they do."
"How long do I have?" Her voice was low.
"A month," he replied casually.
Jenna met his gaze, her chin level. "Then I want double. A million dollars, plus the surgery."
Eric's eyes darkened. "Don't get greedy."
"It's not greed. It's business," Jenna countered. "My life is on the line."
"Fine," Eric said, sliding a second contract toward her. "But there's one more condition. You will pose as my fiancée for the next three months."
"Not publicly," he continued before she could speak.
"Your fiancée?" Jenna blinked in total disbelief. "Why would I agree to that?" she demanded, not touching the contract.
Jenna blinked in disbelief. "Your fiancée? Why?"
"It's strategic. It proves to my family that I'm stable, and it gives me leverage over Scott." He spoke his brother's name like it was a parasite.
"So it's all about you." She snapped cheeks flushed with anger. "What does pretending to be engaged to you do for me?"
"It protects you," he replied flatly. "As far as the family is concerned, as my fiancée, you are untouchable. No one inside would dare touch you without crossing me directly. You'll have access to Castilian resources, security, and events where you can gather intelligence without anyone questioning your presence."
Jenna's stomach twisted, but she signed the contract.
"No intimacy," she spat. "And this ends when the job does."
Eric smirked coldly. "Agreed but make it believable within these walls, Miss Smith. One slip and the deal ends."
He stood up, towering over her, and took her hand. Before she could recoil, he slid a heavy, elegant diamond onto her finger. It felt like a shackle.
"Welcome to the family, fiancée."
Jenna snatched her hand back and fled the room, the ring catching the light with every frantic step. She had one month to save her mother, or lose everything to the man who now owned her.