“Mr. Wagner, Fiona’s mother is here to see you,” Brodie Wagner’s assistant, Ray Lawrence, announced.

Brodie picked up the phone. “Which hospitals are we working with?” he asked.

“We’ve reached out to every institution we can,” Ray replied. “But our pull in the medical world is nothing compared to the Reeds’. And Ariel’s grandfather is working closely with the Chases. Unless Mr. Reed changes his mind, our hands are tied.”

“Understood.” Brodie took off his glasses and rubbed his temples, frustration coiling tight in his chest. “Show her to the meeting room. I’ll be right there.”

Brodie had already guessed why Fiona’s mother had come. But her request still caught him off guard. “If possible... consider marrying Ariel Reed.” The words lit a fire of indignation in him. He felt manipulated, cornered.

“I know this isn’t fair to you. But please, hear me out.” Maria’s voice wavered, but her eyes stayed fixed on him. “My husband and I have lost all our authority. Fiona’s treatment has been stopped. Mr. Reed dotes on Ariel’s aunt, Jenny Reed—the child he had late in life. Ariel offered to marry you in exchange for saving Jenny’s life, and he didn’t object. Because of that, he won’t back down. Not even if it costs Fiona her sight forever.”

Over the past few days, Brodie had seen exactly how callous Mr. Reed could be.

“If Fiona loses her sight again, it’ll be permanent...” Maria Reed’s face crumpled with despair.

“I can take care of—” Brodie started, then stopped cold. His first instinct was to protect Fiona, not to give in to Ariel’s demands. The realization grated on him.

Maria knew Brodie didn’t love Fiona. He only felt guilty—responsible for the accident that damaged Fiona’s vision when she saved him from the fire. She also knew her daughter would rather go blind than watch Brodie marry another woman. But as a mother, she couldn’t just stand by while her daughter wasted away over a love that would never be returned.

“Brodie, we’re business people. When there’s a choice, why not minimize the risk? You could marry now and divorce later. But blindness is forever.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “Could you live with that? Would you ever forgive yourself?”

Brodie was silent for a beat. “How is Fiona?” he asked.

“Not good,” Maria said. “Her treatment’s been stalled for days. Her eyes are inflamed. They could get worse at any moment...”

“I’ll make sure she gets treated by tomorrow. No matter what,” Brodie promised.

Maria left, a little reassured.

Brodie slumped onto the sofa in the meeting room. His helplessness curdled into bitter resentment—aimed straight at Ariel.

The resentment boiled over when Ariel showed up unannounced. He knew better, but his anger got the best of him. “Do you ever think your daughter’s illness is karma for the things you’ve done?” he snapped.

Ariel froze, tears springing to her eyes.

Fiona had said similar things before—worse, even—when Ariel went to her grandfather. Fiona had confronted her, cursing her out about karma and dying alone. Ariel had fired back, enraged that Fiona would put that kind of hex on her child.

But hearing it from Brodie felt like a knife to the heart.

“Choose your next words carefully if you want to resolve this,” she warned, wiping away her tears. Her voice turned icy. “You’ve tried every avenue to get Fiona treatment. But it’s clear nothing will work without my grandfather’s approval.”

Brodie’s irritation spiked. She kept going. “I know you don’t want to marry me. I won’t force you. I came with two other proposals.”

Ignoring the way his expression darkened, she pressed on. “One: a bone marrow transplant to save my daughter.”

Brodie let out a bitter laugh. “You wish.”

Ariel didn’t flinch. “Two: give me a child.”

Brodie’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “What did you just say?”

“I’m asking you to give me a child,” she repeated, her gaze unwavering.

“What? Your mother’s clients aren’t enough for you? Miss Reed, if you’re that desperate, I can call up a dozen men for you.”

Ariel ignored the insult. “Your child. From you.”

The words had barely left her mouth when a glass flew past her ear and shattered against the wall behind her.

“Are you trying to make me hate you even more?” His voice dripped with disdain.

“I’m offering one last option—marriage.” She pushed on, unfazed by his hostility. She pulled a document from her bag and set it in front of him. “And then, give me a child.”

Brodie didn’t even glance at it. “You think you have leverage?”

“I don’t have leverage. I saved Mr. Reed’s precious daughter at great personal cost. Now he’s generously supporting me.”

“I figured you’d need an undeniable reason to help my daughter. So I gave you one.”

“Read the agreement. Marry me, and Fiona stays safe. If you choose the transplant or let me conceive, we can divorce anytime, and I’ll disappear from your life. You don’t have to marry me. Just agree to my terms, and Fiona still gets treatment.”

She pointed to a clause. “I know you despise me. You don’t have to touch me. Just provide...”

“If I agree to marry you, Fiona’s treatment resumes. Correct?” Brodie cut in.

Ariel nodded on instinct, caught off guard. “Yes. But we have to register first.”

Brodie made a call. “Get my documents to the registry office in twenty minutes.”

He hung up and met Ariel’s stunned expression with a smirk. “As you wish.”

“Ray!” he called.

“What do you need, Mr. Wagner?”

Ray’s voice came from just outside the office.

“Prepare the car. We’re going to the registry office.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Brodie rose to leave, Ariel was still reeling. She hadn’t expected this.

“What’s holding you back?” Brodie reminded her as they passed each other. “If you delay Fiona’s treatment, I’ll make sure you feel her pain.”

His harsh words snapped Ariel back to reality.

“You really don’t have to force yourself to marry me. Just—”

Brodie didn’t even glance her way. He strode out, and Ariel hurried to grab the agreement and follow.

The process was efficient. When the marriage certificate with the official stamp was in her hands, her thoughts drifted.

She never thought Brodie would actually marry her. Her plea to her grandfather had been an attempt to save her daughter through a transplant. She’d assumed no one—not even her grandfather—could directly force Brodie’s hand.

But now...

“The marriage is complete. Now fulfill your promise.”

As they left the registry office, Brodie called Mr. Reed and handed the phone to Ariel.

“You talk to him.”

“Grandpa... Yes, it’s done...”

She confirmed it, and Brodie swiftly took the phone back. “We need your help with Fiona’s case.”

He listened, then glanced at Ariel. “Now that we’re married, I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

His gaze sent a chill down Ariel’s spine.

“I understand what you want,” he said after ending the call, staring her down. “You want another child to save yours with cord blood.”

Ariel wasn’t surprised he knew. Information on thalassemia treatment was easy enough to find.

“You think marriage will pressure me into saving your daughter? Or that marrying me will let you find a way to have a child with me?” He suddenly leaned in, gripping Ariel’s chin. “If your brains matched your schemes, you wouldn’t be entertaining such foolish thoughts.”

His closeness radiated danger. Ariel trembled with fear.

“What are you—”

Brodie’s phone rang, cutting her off.

It was Maria—probably about Fiona’s treatment resuming.

Brodie didn’t answer right away. He leaned into Ariel’s ear, voice dripping with venom. “Do you really think I’d ever want someone as tainted as you?”

He took the call, his sadistic smirk vanishing the moment he heard the first words.

“Fiona tried to take her own life?”

Ariel’s head snapped up in shock.

“Which hospital?”

Brodie headed for the parking garage at a dead run, then turned to Ariel a few steps ahead. “If anything happens to Fiona, you’ll never see your daughter again.”

Ariel clutched the glaring red certificate, watching Brodie’s determined figure retreat. Tears streamed down her face.

All she wanted was to save her daughter—to stay close to the one person who might be able to help.

But how had everything spiraled so devastatingly out of control?

Ariel Reed drifted back to the villa in a daze, the marriage certificate clutched in her hand. Sleep was a lost cause. Her mind spun with the same stubborn thought: Fiona’s suicide attempt had to be an act. But fear crept in anyway—not just fear of Brodie Wagner’s payback, but guilt, too. She’d put someone in danger for her daughter’s sake, even if that someone was Fiona.

“God, please, have mercy,” she whispered, curled into a corner of the bed, too terrified to even sob.

But mercy felt a million miles away. Dr. Dexter Fox called, his voice grim as he told her Fiona had indeed lost her sight. To stop Ariel and Brodie’s marriage, Fiona had tried to end her life with carbon monoxide. They’d saved her in time, but the trauma had stolen the vision she’d only just regained.

“Ariel, maybe you should come back. Capri doesn’t have a rare blood type. We’ll find a match…” Dexter’s voice faded as the hotel room door clicked open. Brodie stood there, key card in hand, a storm brewing in his eyes.

Ray’s voice vanished as the phone slipped from Ariel’s grasp. She went frozen, terror locking her in place at the sight of Brodie. She wanted to speak, to ask about Fiona, but the words wouldn’t come. Brodie’s advancing silhouette carried an unbearable weight, wrapping her in darkness, stealing the breath from her lungs.

“She’s blind,” he said, each word sharp as a blade. “So you won’t need to see this world either.”

His hand shot out. Ariel squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for a blow that never came. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and hauled her to her feet.

“Wait.”

She moved fast, scrambling for the phone she’d dropped, but Brodie gave her no time. His strength dragged her effortlessly toward the door.

“Wait, Brodie, let me grab my phone. I need my phone.”

She latched onto the doorframe, keeping him from dragging her out completely. Wherever he was taking her, she needed that phone—needed to stay reachable, to make sure Capri could always find her.

“You won’t need it anymore.”

Brodie pried her fingers off the door. Ariel fought him tooth and nail, clawing at the frame with hands and feet, desperate to get back inside.

She had no idea where he planned to take her, but the ice in his words made her fear the worst—losing her eyes, maybe even her life.

“What do you want? Where are you taking me? Let go of me—I won’t go with you! Brodie Wagner, you can’t force me! Help! Somebody help! Murder!”

Her screams echoed back at her. The villa lay dead silent, as if they were the only two souls inside its walls.

“This is my property. I cleared everyone out before I came.”

“Brodie Wagner, calm down. I never meant for anything to happen to Fiona…”

“Enough with the crocodile tears!”

He clamped a hand over her mouth. Her cheek slammed against her teeth, and the taste of blood flooded her senses.

His fingers brushed the blood from her lip with a contempt that barely hid his impatience. Then he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Ah—”

The move knocked the breath out of her. It hit her then: her pitiful strength was no match for Brodie’s.

She clutched at his clothes as nausea churned in her empty stomach, the upside-down position making everything worse.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Brodie, put me down—listen to me first. Dr. Dexter Fox is renowned worldwide. He knows the top eye specialists. He can help. Fiona’s eyes still have a chance.”

But Brodie was deaf to her pleas. Rage drove him onward through the villa lobby.

“Please, calm down, Brodie. I’m begging you, calm down. Don’t be so quick to pass a death sentence on me…”

He tossed her into the backseat of his car, then lingered for a moment to whisper, “This pain is what you inflicted on her. For that alone, you deserve to be torn apart.”

“Are you going to kill me, then?” she asked, meeting the storm of his fury head-on.

“I won’t kill you. You’re not worth dirtying my hands for,” he said coldly. “And aren’t you most worried about your little one? Ariel Reed, I’ll lock you away. Give you a comfortable life. But you’ll never see her again, hear her voice, or know a single thing about her—not even when she dies.”

“You can’t do that…” Ariel shook her head in horror. “Brodie, you can’t… Let me out! Let me out!”

She shoved against him, trying to duck under his arm and bolt, but he forced her back into the car and slammed the door.

“Brodie, open the door! Let me out! You lunatic, let me out!”

She pounded on the door, hair wild around her face as she stared through the glass—a terrifying sight, the kind that would scare a child into tears.

Brodie climbed into the driver’s seat. When he saw her about to lunge forward, he hit the button for the partition, sealing her cries behind soundproof glass.

Trapped, Ariel went wild, pounding on the barrier with arms, legs, even her head. To Brodie, her howls were nothing but muffled noise.

But the raw despair in her screams didn’t give him the revenge he wanted. Not even close.

He floored the gas pedal, trying to drown out the turmoil inside him, but he kept one ear tuned to the silence behind him.

When the quiet stretched on for minutes, he figured she was up to something.

He thought he was prepared. But when he finally reached their destination, opened the door, and saw Ariel slumped back in the seat, tears sliding down her face without a sound, something inside him faltered.

It was too familiar…

Their first meeting had been like this—Ariel in the school health room, staring blankly at moths fluttering around the fluorescent light, tear tracks stark on her cheeks. When she’d looked at him, it was with a hopelessness so fragile it seemed like she might shatter on the spot. Even now, the memory left an ache he couldn’t shake.

“I was just wondering why you hadn’t crashed, driving like that,” she rasped, her voice ragged from screaming. “Same as when we first met. I wondered why you didn’t just walk away.”

Brodie remembered that night clearly. How he’d handed her tissues for no reason he could name. How he’d stood guard until morning.

“For a long time after, I thought that night was my salvation.” She let out a brittle laugh. “Now I see disaster is just as good at wearing disguises.”

“Brodie Wagner, you love pulling me out of the dark just to throw me into the abyss.”

Her small face tipped up to his, tears ready to spill over—a bruised, haunting beauty, a vulnerability he’d never been able to resist.

Otherwise, why would a man as solitary as him keep vigil all night for a stranger?

Ariel suddenly clung to his shoulder and, before he could react, leaned in and kissed him.

It stunned him. Several seconds passed before he shoved her away—only for her to drag him back down and throw him off balance.

His dark eyes stormed, disbelief barely hidden beneath loathing.

“Have you lost your mind?” he spat, furious.

Her warmth pressed against him, her scent invading his senses, making his breath come faster. He gripped the seat to push himself up, but Ariel’s arms wound around his neck and pulled him into another hungry kiss.

It wasn’t tender anymore. It was a storm—relentless, bruising. When he tried to pull back, her lips bit into his.

“Insane!” he cursed, swiping the blood from his lip, his face dark with anger. “Used to selling yourself, are you? Can’t wait to climb onto anyone who crosses your path?”

Ariel laughed, unfazed by his scorn, watching him with an unfathomable lightness.

“Brodie Wagner, you’re so handsome. Did you know? When we were together, seeing you always made me want to do this.”

“Shut up!”

Brodie’s voice trembled as he turned away, his pulse erratic.

“I won’t be silenced. If I don’t speak now, I may never get the chance to talk to you again.”

She stood slowly, the madness fading like a distant memory, melancholy settling back over her. “If there’s anything left to say, it’s for Capri and you.”

“I won’t be seeing Capri. But fortunately, you’re here.”

She got out and stood just behind Brodie. Her hand hesitated, aching to reach for him the way she used to, then fell to rest lightly against his back. Her voice was calm.

“Brodie Wagner, thank you for being part of my life. For showing me beauty.”

“One last thing—may I hug you?” she pleaded, unable to hold back the final request.

Without waiting for an answer, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his back. He didn’t pull away.

“Thank you…”

For a brief moment, her tears soaked through his shirt, burning where they should have been cold, making him want to flee. But the ghostly hold of her arms wouldn’t let him move.

He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed without a sound.

Ariel knew exactly how to stir the heart of a man who’d once loved her.

“Do you think tears will leave me helpless the way they did before? That I won’t know how to handle you?” He brushed her hands away and turned to face her, his eyes cold again.

“I know what you’re doing. No need for more theatrics.”

He seized her arm and strode toward the secluded manor tucked into the hills—a place with no other soul for miles.

So this was the end…

Ariel let her head fall, resentment giving way to exhaustion.

“If Fiona’s eyes can be healed, I’ll let you go once she regains her sight. From then on, you’re never to cross paths with us again.”

“If she stays blind, then I wish you a long life.”

With that, Brodie turned from her and slammed the manor door shut.

Ariel didn’t bother calling for help. From the moment Brodie made his decision—from the second he’d dragged her out of that room, breathing fire—she’d known pleading was useless.

Drained from the fight, she stumbled toward the sofa and collapsed before she got there.

There was still hope, some glimmer…

She crawled across the carpet, grabbed tissues from the table, and carefully wrapped the few strands of hair clenched in her fist—strands she’d snatched from Brodie’s head during their struggle.

Carefully, she tucked the precious bundle against her heart, as if an imaginary wind might snatch it away.

That done, she leaned her head back against the sofa and exhaled deeply, spent in body and soul.

She loved Brodie Wagner. But her feelings were far from the selfless devotion she pretended. His cutting words made her seethe. His refusal to acknowledge their daughter pushed her to the edge of airing everything online just to shame him.

But she couldn’t risk it. Her daughter was her Achilles’ heel. One misstep, and it could all come crashing down.

Despite all her caution, why had everything spiraled to this?

All she could do was cling to memories and use whatever scraps she had left to buy a fraction of mercy.

Yet there was still a chance.

Fiona’s sight wasn’t a lost cause—not yet. The doctor had said that if she was ever going to see again, they needed to find a suitable cornea and transplant it within three days. Otherwise, even the best specialists would call it nearly impossible.

“Is there still no news?” Brodie Wagner asked over the phone as he stepped out of the elevator, his expression tight.

“None,” came the reply from the other end. It was Ray Lawrence, his assistant. “There are two potential donors on the list, but both have eye issues that make them unsuitable for transplant. As for other options, there are none.”

Those other options referred to people who, in desperate financial situations, might consider selling their corneas.

“Brodie, there’s something I’m not entirely sure about. It just seems... strange...” Ray hesitated, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“We’ll talk later. I have something to deal with right now.”

He ended the call abruptly, just as Dr. Zachary Thompson, Fiona’s attending physician, came up to him eagerly.

“Mr. Wagner, you’re just in time,” the doctor said, barely hiding his excitement. “We’ve found a match.”

“Is it voluntary?” Brodie asked.

Leaning in, Dr. Thompson whispered, “A young woman was in a severe car accident. She’s in the ER now. They couldn’t come up with the money, so her boyfriend agreed quickly. I did a preliminary check—everything seems fine.”

“Do you need to meet him?”

“No need,” Brodie replied. “Just tell the ER to do everything possible to save her. The Wagner Group will cover all expenses. Let him know there will be additional compensation after a successful transplant.”

“Understood, Mr. Wagner.”

“When can the surgery take place?”

“The donor needs some pre-op exams. Surgery can proceed once they’re done.”

“Give me a timeframe.”

“About five hours from now.”

“Good. Get everything ready. I’ll talk to Fiona.”

“Understood, Mr. Wagner.”

Dr. Thompson hurried off to make preparations, while Brodie walked purposefully into Fiona’s hospital room.

At the sound of his footsteps, the woman on the bed immediately sat up, reaching out with both hands. “Brodie, is that you?”

“It’s me.” Brodie approached, poured a cup of coffee, and handed it to her. “How are you feeling?”

Fiona’s hands tensed for a moment as she took the cup, but she quickly masked it with a smile, thanked him, and took a sip. “Are you surprised I knew it was you? I know your footsteps. Your scent. Even if I went blind, I’d still know it was you, Brodie.”

“But...” Her smile faded into a frown. “This time, I might actually lose my sight completely. Would you still care for me if that happened?”

Brodie took the cup back from her hands. “We found a cornea. You’ll have surgery in five hours. Soon you’ll see the world again.”

“Really?” She gripped his hand with excitement. “I’ll really get to see you again? That’s wonderful. Absolutely wonderful...”

Gently pulling his hand away, Brodie said, “You need to stay calm with the surgery approaching. Do you want something to eat?”

Fiona withdrew her hands and, out of his sight, clenched them into fists. Her sharp nails almost pierced her palms. She resented Brodie’s detached demeanor. If not for that—and if Ariel hadn’t come back—she wouldn’t have felt compelled to take such drastic steps and end up in this dreadful situation.

“Yes,” she replied, feigning delight.

Fiona knew that if she remained silent or refused, Brodie would simply turn back to his work without questioning her.

“What do you want to eat? I’ll grab it for you.”

“Never mind, then. I don’t want you to leave,” she pouted.

“I’ll call in an order.”

Satisfied with his response, Fiona enjoyed a meal with him. Perhaps because of her upcoming surgery, when she expressed nervousness and asked Brodie to stay with her until it was over, he surprisingly agreed.

While one rested as instructed by the doctor and the other was absorbed in work, a sense of unspoken harmony settled over them. However, less than an hour before the surgery, an unexpected call shattered the calm.

“Hello, Mr. Wagner. I’m from the management at your Maple Grove estate. Are you at home right now?” The voice on the other end sounded urgent.

“Maple Grove?”

He repeated the name in confusion, momentarily forgetting which of his properties it was.

“Yes, the vacation villa halfway up the Alps.”

Brodie’s expression changed instantly as he remembered he had left Ariel Reed locked up there.

“No, I’m not. What’s happened?”

“Your house caught fire. We’ve called the fire department. Could you come as soon as possible?”

A fire? What on earth was that woman up to now?

“I’m on my way,” he replied swiftly, heading for the elevator. “How bad is the fire?”

“Details are unclear at the moment. Our team is en route.”

“There’s someone inside. Ensure her safety at all costs, and update me immediately.”

Ending the call, he raced toward the parking garage. That woman had completely lost her mind!

He slammed his palm against the steering wheel in frustration, fuming at every red light. Fortunately, just as he neared the city limits, a call came through reporting that the fire was contained and the person inside was safe. Otherwise, he was sure he would have run a red light, unable to contain his rage.

Approaching the villa district, another call informed him that the fire was extinguished and Ariel was safe, escorted away by the firefighters.

Assuming they mistook Ariel for an intruder, he was ready to clear it up. But the hesitant explanation from the estate manager made it clear he had misunderstood the situation.

“Your wife claimed you two had a fight and... she was locked inside. She said she had something urgent to do, hence the extreme measures.”

His assumption that Ariel had been desperate enough to set the place on fire was completely wrong. She had, once again, found a way to escape.

Brodie let out a dry chuckle at the irony. Ariel Reed never failed to defy his expectations.

He called Ray Lawrence, instructing him to locate Ariel, and with a swift turn, headed back to the hospital.

Before he even left the city, Fiona was calling repeatedly, distressed to find him gone. Dr. Thompson also called to inform him that Fiona, upon learning the cornea donor was a living person, was refusing the surgery. He needed to return promptly.

It didn’t take long for Ray Lawrence to report back.

“The fire department didn’t know who Ms. Reed was, so they intended to take her to the police station. Should I arrange to have her picked up?”

“No.” Brodie’s eyes glinted with cold resolve. “Tell them to lock her up.”

Though surprised, Ray Lawrence set about carrying out his orders without question.