ISABELLA’S POV

THREE MONTHS LATER

The nightmares just wouldn't stop.

Other nights, I'd wake up with the feeling of my silent screams choking me. It was as if the smirk of Damian was burned in my mind right in front of my face.

Other nights, I'd dream about Eleanor: her last moments replaying themselves in my brain like some record with a scratched groove.

Alone, so alone now,

But I lived.

Yet, all I had was this determination to stay alive as long as I could.

I found a job in a small café tucked away on the quieter side of Ridgewood. It was not a fancy place, but for me, it felt safe. The owners were an elderly couple who did not ask too many questions, and that was precisely what I needed then.

These were just enough tips to survive, but I never complained. I had this small apartment over a laundromat; well, it wasn't much, but it was mine. Secondhand phone, but more importantly, the most important thing, a new name.

Now I was Lillian Hawthorne, not Isabella Harrington, the runaway bride.

I wasn't the girl whom Damian Whitmore was after anymore.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

But deep inside, I knew the truth-

It was only a question of time before he found me.

As time went by, my determination to avenge Eleanor’s death grew but I had no idea how to do it. Damian was a powerful man with powerful friends and I was all alone, nobody.

The evening rush at the café had just died down when I suddenly heard the mention of one name raise my head.

Not Damian.

It was Adrian Sinclair.

He was a billionaire- a known personality.

And once, he was my secret crush.

I had only seen him on TV or on the covers of glossy magazines. He seemed like a man of ice and power, the type of person who could crush you with just one look.

He was the kind of man who would never even notice someone like me.

But the moment I heard some businessmen talking about him at Table 5, I stopped faking the cleaning of the counter and listened in.

"He's got no choice," one man said as he whirled whiskey in his glass. "Livingstone Enterprises will not retain him as CEO without a marriage, at least on paper. This board wants him to show him 'stability'."

The other man was laughing. "That man has no belief in love. That man will not settle down for anything."

Getting married.

He was in need of a wife.

This was a bolt-of-thunder idea that had struck my mind.

Adrian Sinclair needed a wife.

And I needed protection.

Damian's reach was big, but Adrian's was much bigger.

If I could get Adrian to marry me-even if it was just a fake marriage-he would be a shield for me.

Damian would never dare touch the wife of Adrian Sinclair.

The whole thing sounded insane, even to my ears. It almost sounded like a death wish.

Adrian was way above my league. He had been named the most sought after bachelor in the papers repeatedly and many women had even tried throwing themselves at him but he rejected them all. He was rarely even seen with a woman.

He wouldn’t want anything to do with me.

But this was my only avenue to safety. I had to try.

I reached for my phone, my hand trembling as I typed out an email.

To: Adrian Sinclair

Subject: A Business Proposal

Mr. Sinclair,

I know about the situation you are in regarding your position as CEO. You need a wife, and I need protection.

I'd like to propose a contract marriage—just business. No feelings involved, no complications.

I will be a perfect wife in public and stay out of your way in private. You would, in turn, make sure I am safe.

Interested, then meet.

Lillian Hawthorne

I hovered over the send button, my breathing getting shallower.

Then, with one deep breath, I clicked.

No sooner had I clicked that email than a chill ran down my spine.

I had just bartered with the devil to get out of the clutches of another.

And now, there was no going back.