Nerissa POV
"Good girl. Wear something nice. We're making a deal that will save you. Or destroy you. Maybe both."
I stare at Thaddeus's text, my stomach twisting with something that feels dangerous. Like standing at the edge of a cliff and wanting to jump.
The nurse touches my shoulder. "Honey, you need to rest a bit longer before you drive."
But I can't stay here. Can't sit in this recovery room one more second surrounded by women making the same impossible choice I just made. Some of them are crying. Some look relieved. I just feel hollow.
"I'm fine," I lie, standing too quickly. The room spins, but I grab the wall and steady myself. "I need to go."
She looks worried but doesn't stop me.
I make it to my car before my legs give out. I collapse into the driver's seat, shaking so hard my teeth chatter. My phone rings immediately.
Dad.
I almost don't answer. But what if something happened to Mom? What if she's worse?
"Nerissa, thank God!" His voice is panicked, rough from crying. "Where have you been? I've been calling for hours!"
"What happened?" My voice sounds dead. Empty.
"Your mother—she collapsed at the grocery store. They rushed her to County Hospital. Her heart—" He breaks off, sobbing. "The doctors say she needs surgery. Emergency surgery. Tonight if possible."
My hands grip the steering wheel. "How bad?"
"Without surgery, she has maybe a week. Maybe less." He's crying harder now. "But Nerissa, the surgery costs eight hundred thousand dollars. The insurance won't cover it because of a pre-existing condition clause. And the company—"
"What about the company?" But I already know. Dad's been acting strange for months. Coming home late, drinking more, avoiding Mom's questions about money.
"I'm so sorry, baby girl. I made some bad investments. Really bad. And I—I have a gambling problem. I've been trying to fix it, trying to win back what I lost, but it just got worse." He's sobbing so hard I can barely understand him. "The pharmaceutical company is bankrupt. We're losing everything. The house, the business, everything. And now your mother needs this surgery and I have nothing. Nothing!"
The phone almost slips from my hand.
Eight hundred thousand dollars.
My parents' company destroyed.
My mother dying.
"Dad, I don't have that kind of money—"
"I know! I know, and I'm so sorry to put this on you, but you're a scientist, you have that good job at the lab, maybe you can take out loans? Maybe Dashiell's family can help? His stepfather is rich, right? That Thaddeus guy?"
I close my eyes. "Dad, Dashiell and I are getting divorced."
Silence. Then: "What? When?"
"Today. I caught him cheating." My voice cracks. "On our anniversary."
"Oh, sweetheart—"
"I have to go." I hang up before he can say more.
I sit in the clinic parking lot as the sun sets, watching the sky turn orange and red like the world is burning. Because my world is burning. Everything I had this morning is gone.
My marriage: destroyed.
My baby: gone.
My mother: dying.
My family: bankrupt.
I can't go home. Can't face that empty house where Dashiell screwed another woman in our bed. Can't see the nursery we started to plan, the baby books I bought, the dreams I had.
I drive to the cheapest hotel I can find—a run-down place on the edge of town with flickering neon signs and stained carpets. It's sixty dollars a night. I have exactly two hundred dollars in my personal checking account.
The room smells like cigarettes and bleach. There's a water stain on the ceiling shaped like a hand reaching for something it can't quite touch.
I lie on the bed fully clothed and stare at that stain.
How did this happen?
This morning, I was happy. Pregnant. Loved. Safe.
Now I'm alone in a cheap hotel, empty inside, with a mother who's dying and no way to save her.
My phone buzzes.
A voicemail from the hospital. I play it with shaking hands.
"Miss Caldwell, this is County Hospital calling about your mother, Cressida Caldwell. We need to speak with you urgently about payment options for her surgery. Please call us back at—"
I delete it. I can't. I can't listen to them tell me my mother will die because I don't have enough money.
Another text from Thaddeus: "Get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, everything changes. Trust me."
Why would I trust him? I don't even know him. Not really. He's been at family dinners, Christmas parties, Dashiell's birthday celebrations. Always watching me with those ice-blue eyes. Always polite but distant. Always making my heart race in ways I tried to ignore because he was my husband's stepfather.
Ex-husband, my brain corrects.
What does Thaddeus want from me?
And why does the thought of seeing him tomorrow make me feel something other than numb?
My phone rings. Unknown number.
I answer without thinking. "Hello?"
"Nerissa Caldwell?" A woman's voice. Professional. Cold.
"Yes?"
"This is Patricia Voss. Dashiell's mother." She pauses. "Well, I was his mother before I died. This is actually my sister, but I'm calling on behalf of the Voss family estate."
I sit up. "I don't understand—"
"Dashiell informed us of the divorce proceedings. The family attorney will be contacting you about the prenuptial agreement you signed."
My blood runs cold. "What prenuptial agreement?"
"The one you signed before the wedding. Don't pretend you don't remember, dear. You get nothing from this divorce. No house, no money, no assets. Everything stays with Dashiell."
"I never signed a prenup!" My voice rises. "We didn't have one!"
"Check your wedding documents, sweetheart. Dashiell had it added to the marriage license paperwork. You signed it right along with everything else." She sounds almost amused. "You really should read things before you sign them."
She hangs up.
I want to scream. Want to throw my phone against the wall. Want to burn down the entire world.
Instead, I curl into a ball on the dirty hotel bed and cry until I have nothing left.
My phone buzzes one more time.
Another text. Not from Thaddeus this time.
Unknown number: "You think you're suffering now? Wait until tomorrow. Everyone will know what kind of woman you really are. Sweet dreams, homewrecker. —M"
Marlowe.
What is she talking about?
I'm too exhausted to care. Too broken to fight.
I close my eyes and pray for sleep that won't come.
At 11:47 PM, someone knocks on my hotel room door.
I freeze. Nobody knows I'm here.
The knock comes again. Harder.
"Nerissa. Open the door."
That voice.
Deep. Commanding. Familiar.
Thaddeus Reign.
How did he find me?
My heart pounds as I walk to the door on shaking legs.
I open it.
He's standing there in an expensive suit, looking completely out of place in this horrible hotel. His silver hair is perfect. His blue eyes scan me from head to toe, and something dangerous flashes across his face.
"You look like hell," he says quietly.
"What are you doing here?"
"Saving you." He steps inside without asking permission, closing the door behind him. "Pack your things. You're coming with me."
"I'm not going anywhere—"
He pulls out his phone and shows me the screen.
It's a social media post. From Marlowe.
There's a photo of me and Dashiell from two years ago. But someone edited it. Changed it. Made it look like I'm the one cheating.
The caption reads: "Dashiell Voss's wife has been having an affair for YEARS. Now she's destroyed our family. Share this so everyone knows what a liar Nerissa Caldwell really is."
It has fifty thousand shares already.
My legs give out.
Thaddeus catches me before I hit the ground.
"Tomorrow morning, this will be everywhere," he says, his arms strong around me. "Your reputation will be destroyed. Your job will fire you. You'll have nothing."
"I already have nothing," I whisper.
"Wrong." His eyes meet mine, burning with something I can't name. "You have me. And I'm offering you a deal that will fix everything. Your mother's surgery. Your father's debts. Your destroyed reputation."
"What do you want in return?"
He smiles, but it's not kind.
"You. As my wife. Starting tomorrow."