IRIS POV
"Marry you?"
The words came out like a squeak. I grabbed the back of the couch to steady myself because the room was spinning.
Adrian Thorne—billionaire, ruthless businessman, Damien's secret half-brother—just asked me to marry him.
"Are you insane?" I whispered.
"Quite possibly." He poured another drink, completely calm. Like he proposed to strangers every day. "But I'm also serious. Sit down, Iris. Let me explain before you run."
"I should run. I should definitely run."
"You could." He took a sip. "You'd make it to the elevator before my security stopped you. Then you'd be back on the street with $243 and nowhere to go. Or you could sit down and hear me out."
He was right. I hated that he was right.
I sat. But I perched on the edge of the couch, ready to bolt if this got any crazier.
"You've been watching me for two years," I said. My voice shook. "That's... that's stalking. That's illegal."
"I've been reading your blog for two years," he corrected. "Manhattan Truths. You're very good at exposing corporate corruption. You helped take down three CEOs last year alone."
My stomach dropped to my feet.
Nobody knew I ran that blog. Nobody. I'd been so careful, using fake names and routing everything through protected servers and—
"How did you figure it out?" I breathed.
"Your writing style. The way you structure arguments. The specific details you include about marketing strategies." He smiled slightly. "You wrote my competitor's downfall the same way you wrote Damien's business presentations. I recognized your mind."
My hands were shaking again. "What do you want?"
"I told you. Marriage. A contract marriage, to be specific." He set down his glass. "One year. Completely fake. You play the role of my loving wife in public. In private, we maintain professional distance."
"Why?"
"My grandmother is dying. She controls fifty-one percent of Thorne Enterprises stock. Her will states that I only inherit if I'm married by my thirty-sixth birthday." His jaw tightened. "That's in three months."
"So marry someone else. You're rich and—" I waved a hand at him, "—you look like that. You could have anyone."
"I don't want anyone. I want someone who hates my brother as much as I do."
The words hung between us like poison.
"I don't hate Damien," I said automatically.
Adrian laughed. It was cold and sharp. "Liar. You hate him. You just haven't admitted it yet. But you will. When you're lying awake at night remembering six years of your life wasted. When you see him post happy photos with Vivienne. When you realize he never loved you—he loved what you did for him."
Each word was a knife. Each word was true.
"Even if I wanted to—which I don't—why would I help you? What do I get?"
"Five million dollars."
I choked on air. "What?"
"Five million dollars, transferred to your account the day we divorce. Plus, I'll give you housing, clothes, access to my resources. You'll live here, attend events with me, play the devoted wife. After one year, you walk away rich enough to start whatever life you want."
Five million dollars. I could go to graduate school. Start my own business. Never depend on anyone again.
But something didn't add up.
"There are easier ways to find a wife," I said slowly. "Why me specifically? And don't say it's because I hate Damien. There's more to this."
Adrian's eyes gleamed with approval. "Smart girl. You're right. There is more."
He stood and walked to the window. Rain streaked the glass behind him.
"Damien doesn't know we're brothers. Our father kept me secret—the shameful bastard son. He married Damien's mother, gave Damien everything. Meanwhile, my mother and I lived in poverty until she died when I was fifteen."
His voice was flat. Empty. But I heard the rage underneath.
"I built this empire to destroy everything my father created. Every business deal I've won, every company I've acquired—it was all leading to this. Taking down the Hartwell family legacy. And Damien is the final piece."
"So I'm your revenge weapon," I said quietly.
"Yes."
At least he was honest.
"You want me to marry you so you can parade me in front of Damien. Show him what he lost. Hurt him the way he hurt me."
"Partially. But there's more." Adrian turned to face me. "Vivienne isn't dying."
The words hit me like a slap.
"What?"
"She's not sick. Never was. I have proof—fake medical records, bribed doctors, the whole scheme. She manipulated Damien into marrying her to get your inheritance and your family connections."
My brain couldn't process this. "That's... no. She looked so sick. So weak."
"Acting. Very good acting." He pulled out his phone and showed me a video. Vivienne, healthy and laughing, talking to some man in a suit. The date stamp was from yesterday.
"She's been planning this for months," Adrian continued. "And I let it happen."
"You KNEW?" I jumped up. "You knew she was faking and you didn't tell anyone?"
"Why would I? Her scheme aligned perfectly with mine. She wanted to trap Damien and steal from you. I wanted you desperate and angry enough to accept my offer. Everyone wins."
"I don't win! I lost everything!"
"No." Adrian stepped closer. His eyes were intense, burning. "You lost nothing worth keeping. A man who didn't love you. A family who never valued you. A life spent making yourself small for people who'd never appreciate it. I didn't take anything from you, Iris. They did. I'm just offering you the chance to make them pay."
His words wrapped around me like chains. Like freedom.
"I haven't decided if I hate you yet," I whispered.
"Fair enough. Hate me after you're rich." He held out his hand. "One year. Five million dollars. And the satisfaction of watching Damien realize he threw away the best thing that ever happened to him. Deal?"
I stared at his hand.
This was crazy. Marrying a stranger for revenge? That's movie stuff, not real life.
But my real life had exploded six hours ago. Maybe crazy was exactly what I needed.
"What are the rules?" I asked.
"Simple. We act happily married in public. Separate bedrooms in private. No emotional attachment. No falling in love. After one year, clean divorce, and you walk away set for life."
"No falling in love," I repeated. That seemed... specific.
"I don't do love, Iris. And after today, I'm guessing you don't either."
He was right. Love was a lie. A trap. A way to make people give up everything for nothing.
Never again.
"If I say yes," I said slowly, "I want to know everything. About you and Damien. About your father. About why you hate him so much. No secrets."
"Deal. After you sign the contract."
"There's an actual contract?"
"I'm a businessman. Everything gets a contract." He was still holding out his hand. "So? Do we have a deal, Iris Chen? One year of playing pretend in exchange for more money than you've ever dreamed of?"
I looked at his hand. Strong. Steady. Offering me something Damien never had—honesty about what he wanted from me.
This man was using me. But at least he admitted it.
And I'd be using him right back.
"One condition," I said.
"Name it."
"When Damien finds out—because I know that's part of your plan—I get to be there. I want to see his face."
Adrian's smile was sharp and dangerous and satisfied. "Done."
I took his hand.
His grip was warm and firm and felt like sealing a deal with the devil. Maybe that's exactly what I was doing.
"So when's the wedding?" I asked.
"Three days. We'll have a private courthouse ceremony, then announce it at the Thornfield Charity Gala this weekend. Damien will be there with his dying bride." His eyes glinted. "Should be quite the reunion."
Three days. I was getting married in three days to a man I'd met six hours ago.
"I need a lawyer to look at the contract," I said.
"Already arranged. She'll be here tomorrow at nine."
Of course he already arranged it. Adrian Thorne didn't make impulsive decisions. He'd been planning this for years.
Which meant...
"How long have you known?" I asked suddenly. "About Damien leaving me? Did you know it would be today?"
Adrian's expression didn't change. But something flickered in his eyes. Something that looked almost like guilt.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
Silence stretched between us like a bridge made of knives.
"I knew the wedding was today," he finally said. "I knew Vivienne would make her move. I suspected Damien would choose her. But I didn't know for certain until I saw you standing in the rain."
"Liar."
His eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"
"You're lying. You knew exactly what would happen. You probably knew what time he'd show up. What he'd say. Everything." My voice was shaking but I kept going. "You watched me get my heart broken and you did nothing because it was convenient for your plan."
Adrian didn't deny it.
"You're right," he said quietly. "I could have warned you. Could have exposed Vivienne weeks ago. Could have saved you from today. But I didn't."
"Why not?"
He stepped closer, close enough that I could see silver flecks in his grey eyes.
"Because a woman who's been warned can walk away clean. But a woman who's been destroyed?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "She becomes dangerous."
My breath caught.
"And I need you dangerous, Iris Chen. I need you angry enough to stand beside me and watch it all burn. Can you do that?"
Could I?
Six hours ago, I would have said no. Six hours ago, I was a good girl who made herself small and sacrificed everything for love.
But that girl died in a hotel bridal suite.
This new version of me? She was tired of being small.
"Yes," I whispered. "I can do that."
Adrian smiled. "Good. Then welcome to the game, future Mrs. Thorne."
He turned and walked toward the hallway, leaving me standing in his living room, my hand still tingling from his grip.
"Oh, and Iris?" He paused at the doorway. "You should know—I never lose."
Then he was gone.
I sank back onto the couch, my mind racing.
What had I just agreed to?
My phone buzzed. I'd turned it back on without thinking.
A text from Damien: *Please call me. I need to explain. I still care about you.*
I stared at those words until they blurred.
Then I typed back: *Don't contact me again. I'm done.*
I hit send and blocked his number.
Then I blocked Dad. Patricia. Vivienne. Everyone from my old life.
They wanted me gone? Fine. I was gone.
And when I came back, I'd be someone they couldn't ignore.
Someone they couldn't hurt.
Mrs. Adrian Thorne.
I laughed, high and slightly hysterical. This morning I was supposed to marry Damien Hartwell.
Now I was marrying his secret half-brother instead.
My phone buzzed again. Unknown number.
*Sleep well, future wife. Tomorrow, we start destroying everyone who hurt you. —A*
I should be terrified.
Instead, I felt something hot and sharp and new burning in my chest.
It felt like power.