Chapter 448
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Chapter 448:
Her brain screamed at her to say no. Reinstating the fake dating contract meant stepping back into the suffocating, terrifying gravity of his world. It meant more public appearances, more fake smiles, and more dangerous proximity to a man who made her body react in ways she couldn’t control.
But then the rhythmic hiss of the oxygen machine drew her attention back to the bed.
She looked at Aaden. The boy looked so incredibly small, so fragile. The thought of abandoning him in this sterile room made her physically nauseous.
Carmen closed her eyes. The maternal instinct completely crushed her logic.
“Fine,” Carmen whispered, her voice cracking. She didn’t turn around. “I will stay. I will play the part. But only until he is discharged from this hospital. Once he goes home, the contract is dead. We are nothing p>
Behind her, Justin’s lips curved into a cold, victorious smirk. He had the wedge he needed.
“Thank you, Carmen,” Justin said, his tone perfectly respectful. “I promise, I will not cross your boundaries p>
Across the city, in the heart of Midtown Manhattan.
The atmosphere inside the private VIP dining room of Le Bernardin was freezing.
Kieran Douglas sat rigidly in his chair, wearing a stiff, dark suit. His face was gaunt, his eyes hollow. He looked like a man walking to his own execution.
Sitting across from him was Isabelle Sterling, a senior partner at Sterling Capital. She wore a blood-red, plunging haute couture gown. Her blonde hair was sleek, and her lips were painted a vicious crimson. She was slicing into a piece of bluefin tuna with the precision of a surgeon.
𝗙o𝘭l𝗼w us 𝗈n.со𝗺
This was a formal meeting, one arranged by the Douglas patriarchs to finalize the terms of a capital injection for their dying tech empire.
“So, Mr. Douglas,” Isabelle said, not looking up from her plate. Her voice dripped with aristocratic condescension. “My team’s due diligence reports confirm what I already suspected. I hear you’ve become the laughingstock of Wall Street. Beaten into submission by Gaston Collins p>
Kieran’s fingers gripped the stem of his wine glass. His knuckles turned stark white. He forced a tight, fake smile.
“It’s a temporary market fluctuation,” Kieran lied through his teeth. “Douglas Tech is restructuring p>
Isabelle let out a sharp, mocking laugh. She finally looked up, her blue eyes pinning him to the chair.
“A fluctuation?” Isabelle sneered. “I heard it’s because you lost your mind. You spent the last six months obsessively stalking your former assistant. What was her name? Jocelyn Wolfe p>
The name hit Kieran like a bullet to the chest.
His pupils dilated. His breathing instantly became shallow and ragged. The suffocating, toxic mix of regret, obsession, and rage boiled over in his blood.
“Shut up,” Kieran hissed, his voice trembling.
Isabelle raised an eyebrow, amused by his reaction. “Excuse me p>
“I said shut up!” Kieran roared.
He slammed his fist down on the table. The heavy silver cutlery jumped. The crystal wine glass tipped over, spilling dark red Bordeaux across the pristine white tablecloth like blood.
“You don’t get to say her name!” Kieran panted, his chest heaving, his eyes wild and unhinged.
The room went dead silent.