THE ICE BILLIONAIRE'S BARGAIN BRIDE

en pressed her forehead to the cold glass, her breath fogging the pane. Behind her, machines beeped a relentless rh

,43

in Lily's mind.

d a verdict. "Without the targeted therapy..." He trailed o

ed in her coat pocket. Final Warning. The diner's meager t

ans?" Lily's voice sou

initial infusion alon

asting copper and rain. Her mother stirred, murmur

yes shut. I will no

amp waitress uniform, the scent of grease and stale coffee clinging to her. She'd p

r and quieter than any vehicle had a right to be, glided to the c

rear wind

ke a scanner-her drenched uniform, the cheap plastic n

winter wind: crisp, comm

on't take rides

oyed at 'Diner's Edge,' 5th and Maple. Mother: Clara Chen. Stage IV metastati

harp, pierced Li

m. Inside, stark under the limo's muted light: photos of her leaving the hospital, copies of lo

appearances. A facade of devotion. In return: All debts erased. Clara Chen receives the Vega

Enough for her mother to live. Enough for

he question

leaned forward slightly, the dim light catching the sharp angle of his jaw. "When this ends, yo

ss the seat. Heavy

de. N

's frail hand clutching hers. Heard the landlord's final, snarled

nd the pen. It felt lik

r name?" sh

en Th

ure on the dotted line

mmands into a phone thinner than a credit card, the glow etching harsh shadows

ing towers replaced crumbling brick. Hope war

en stated, no

at my penthouse

provided a war

ns I designate. Smile.

o discussions of the contrac

agreement. Your mother's tr

as absolut

levator, lined in dark, reflective metal, whisked them upwa

ar below. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the storm raging over Lake Michigan. Minimalist furniture-sharp lines, chrom

ss Chen." Her eyes assessed Lily's damp uniform with polite disdain

t eight. Be punctual." He vanished down

d her footsteps. A bed like a snowdrift dominated the room. The walk-in closet held a forest of

e. A sunken tub big enough for three. Lily turned on a f

cold water on her face. The girl in the mirr

amonds. Damien sat at the head, bathed in the glow of a tablet. A sing

A silent server placed a plate before her: seared scallops on a smear of saffron

e didn't eat. Didn

ork. Its weight felt

look up. "In publi

ed out. "What... h

learn which fork to use. How to walk in heels without stumbling. How to deflect inane questions with a vacant smile." He

Lily choked. "

y fundraiser. You were volunteering." He slid a single sheet of p

EN – BA

dation Library G

3 months.

, Renaissance Art History,

y Degree (Chicago Ins

er (Professor), Mothe

touched a piano! Nouveau Wave? I

image of a cultured, suitable partner for Damien Thorne, and the consequences for your mother

Nausea rose. Cultured. Suitable. Words as alien as this p

ights bleeding through the windows. She found herself in a cavernous living room domi

note hung in the air, vibrating through her

os

k pants, no shirt. The sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen were stark in the moo

against her ribs. "

d that frosty sandalwood enveloped her. He set his glass down on the

cheeks. "I told yo

t?" His voice was

se it's sitting here in this... this museum, untouched! Be

rtbeat, something flickered in its depths-not warmth,

feel the heat radiating from his skin. He reached past her, his bare arm brushing hers, sending an

x finger to a specific key. "Middle C." He moved her hand, positioning her thumb. "This chord." He applied gentle pres

inches from her back. She could

the whiskey. "Appearance. Control. The illusion of artis

rmth vanished, replaced by the penth

ed, his back already to her. "Yo

ing in the vast, empty dark. The cage, she realized, was gilded, exquisitely appointed, and colder than