The steel handcuffs bit into Elara's skin, cold and sharp, but they were nothing compared to the look in Killian Thorne's eyes. He yanked her closer, and their shadows stretched across the office floor—long, twisted, like something out of a nightmare. Everyone else saw a king in this man. To her, he was the one holding her whole life in his grip.
"Please," Elara whispered. Her voice was so thin, it barely sounded like her. "My daughter. I have to get back to her. She's alone. She's sick."
Killian's hand tightened on her arm. His face stayed frozen, pure fury in every line. He didn't look grateful—not like a man whose son had just been saved. He looked like he'd caught a liar.
"Your daughter?" Killian's voice was low and sharp, almost a hiss. "You mean the child you bought with the money you stole from me five years ago? Or is she just another story, Elara? Is she as real as that miscarriage you told me about?"
Blood drained out of Elara's face. Her heart hammered, wild and painful. She couldn't tell him the truth. Not now. She couldn't let him know that Leo—the boy she'd just risked everything for—had a twin sister, Maya.
Killian Thorne didn't believe in sharing. He saw the world as something to own. If he found out Elara was hiding another Thorne child in a cramped basement apartment, he wouldn't just be furious. He'd take Maya away and lock Elara up for good. She'd lose both her children in a single moment.
The stakes felt higher than the skyscrapers outside his window. If she kept quiet, she'd stay his prisoner. If she told the truth, she'd lose Maya. If she lied, she risked never seeing Leo again.
"I didn't steal from you!" she gasped, every word burning. "They told me something went wrong at the clinic. I woke up in a hospital bed, completely alone. The doctors said the baby's heart had stopped. I had nothing, Killian. No money, no baby, and no way to reach a man like you!"
Killian let out a bitter laugh that never touched his eyes. He leaned in so close she could see the muscle in his jaw twitch. He smelled like expensive wood, like wind on a cold night.
"The Thorne Program doesn't have 'problems,' Elara. We have results." His voice dropped lower, sharp as a knife. "You signed the contract. You promised me an heir. Then you disappeared. A week later, my men found the clinic burned down. No records. No doctors. No trace of you. You ran off with my money, and my hope."
He reached out, his thumb scraping across the faded bird tattoo on her wrist. The touch jolted her, a shock that sent memories flickering—his letters from when she was pregnant, back when he'd seemed gentle, almost waiting for a miracle.
"You were my miracle," he said, voice like a growl. "And you turned into my biggest betrayal. Do you know what happens to people who betray me?"
Tears blurred Elara's vision. Maya flashed through her mind. Right now, her little girl was probably waking up in the dark, coughing, reaching for her mother. Maya needed her inhaler. She needed the medicine Elara was supposed to buy with tonight's pay.
"I don't care about your money or your famous name," Elara said. Something fierce sparked in her eyes. The scared girl was gone, replaced by a mother ready to fight. "I'm a mother. My child is sick. If I don't get back to her, she could stop breathing. Let me go!"
Killian didn't move. He watched that fire in her eyes, and for a second, he almost looked impressed. But his voice stayed cold.
"She'll be fine," Killian said. "Because you aren't leaving. You wanted to be a hero tonight? Fine—you saved my son. The press is out there. The police want to meet the woman who tackled the gunman. If I tell them you're a criminal who stole a Thorne child five years ago, you'll never see daylight again."
He leaned back, studying her. "But I've got a better plan. My son hasn't said a word since the woman he called 'mother' died last year. But tonight? Tonight, he spoke. He called you 'Mommy.'"
Elara felt cold and hot all at once. Leo remembered her. Even after all this time, the connection hadn't faded.
"What do you want?" she whispered, her voice shaking.
"A contract," Killian said. He slid a thick folder across the desk. "One year. You'll live in my house. You'll play the part of my long-lost wife. You'll be the mother my son needs, so he can heal. In return, I'll clear your name. I'll give you a life of luxury most people only dream about."
"And if I say no?"
Killian's eyes went ice-cold. "Then I call the police. I track down this 'daughter' of yours, and I make sure she ends up in an orphanage halfway across the country. You'll never see her again. You won't hear her laugh."
The threat hit her like a blade, sharp and deep. Elara's head spun. She could take the cuffs, the way they bit into her skin. She could even stand his hate. But thinking of Maya—Maya alone, frightened, stuck in some strange place where nobody cared—she couldn't take that.
"I need to get her medicine," Elara whispered. She felt something inside her snap. "Please. She needs it tonight."
Killian didn't blink. He signaled to the guard by the door. "Get a team to the address on her ID. Buy every medicine they have. Bring the girl to my estate. Now. Nobody goes in or out unless I say so."
"No!" Elara lunged forward. The cuffs rattled, loud and desperate. "Don't take her! She's terrified of strangers. Let me go—let me get her!"
Killian caught her around the waist, steady and unyielding. For a split second, his anger faded. He looked at her like he used to in his letters—hungry, aching. Her heart skipped. But the look was gone in a heartbeat.
"She's my insurance, Elara. As long as she's under my roof, I know you won't run. As long as you're my 'wife,' my son stays safe."
He grabbed a gold pen from his desk and held it out. The lamp made it gleam.
"Sign the contract, Elara. Trade your freedom for your daughter's life. Or walk away now, and lose both your children before morning."
Elara stared at the pen, then at the man who'd once been the father of her twins—now the man holding her life in his hands. She thought about the son she'd just found, and the daughter she had to protect.
Her hands shook as she took the pen. The cuffs weighed heavy on her wrists. Every part of her screamed to fight, but love for her child was a chain she couldn't break. She scrawled her name at the bottom. Elara Thorne. The words burned.
Killian took the contract, locked it away. He fished a small key from his pocket and unlocked the cuffs. The metal clattered to the floor, leaving red marks on her skin, but he didn't let go. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Welcome to the family, Mrs. Thorne," he breathed. His voice was low, his breath hot—almost a warning, almost a promise.
He turned her to the window. Down below, a black SUV tore down the drive, Killian's men inside. They were going for Maya. They'd bring her here, into this gilded prison.
Killian's mouth was close to her ear, his voice a threat. "You think you've saved your daughter by signing. You think you've bought a year of safety."
He waited, and when she finally looked at him, his eyes burned right through her.
"But tell me, Elara... when you realize that I am the very monster she needs to be protected from, who will be left to save you from me?"