For a moment, Aria felt like the bracelets were burning into her wrists. She wanted to break free, but Silas’s big hand locked around her wrist in an unyielding grip. His deep, menacing voice rolled over them again.

“So, Mother, who do you think should take them?”

“Well, I...”

Eloise looked ready to answer—then froze, her eyes wide with horror. She was Silas’s biological mother. So why was she staring at him like he was the Grim Reaper himself?

It wasn’t just her. Seth shot to his feet too, like he was trying to put distance between himself and the disaster about to hit.

Aria followed their gaze and saw Silas’s cold, obsidian eyes. The whites were slowly streaking red, swirling in a way that made her stomach drop. Panic shot through her chest. If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d seen this before—in her professor’s notes. Some kind of poisoning.

For a second, she couldn’t remember the details. Dazed, she heard Eloise’s soothing voice cut through the tension. “Silas, you’re exhausted. Why not go rest in your room?”

Silas seemed to realize something was wrong. He blinked hard, then released Aria’s hand and strode away with purpose. Jericho turned to Aria at once. “We’ll have dinner in the back garden later. Come with me to the garden, my dear.”

“Jericho, your health isn’t good. Let me help you up first,” Eloise said, already guiding him away and ordering the staff to clean up. The group hurried outside.

Aria watched them scramble, as if something monumental was about to happen.

Seth came over, his expression grim. “Miss Aria, you’d better hide in the garden. Silas... he’s not himself right now. Just go—quick!” He grabbed his jacket and rushed outside.

Aria followed, but as she reached the front door, a maid hurried up to her. “Miss Aria, Mr. Collins’s emergency medication was left in the second room on the left on the third floor. Could you fetch it for me? I’m swamped right now.”

The maid was gone before Aria could answer. Something about it felt off. Eloise might be meddling again. Aria took the stairs, the loose cuffs of her guest shirt brushing her hands. She found a sealed emergency case on a nightstand, labeled with Silas’s name. Whoever had sent her here had lied about what she was collecting.

Just as she was about to head back down, a loud crash echoed from upstairs, followed by a guttural roar of agony—like a wounded beast. Terrified, she clutched the medication and raced for the stairs, only to find a heavy iron gate blocking her escape. She was trapped in the corridor.

Behind her, the sounds of chaos kept growing.

Sweat trickled down her back as she carefully retreated toward the room. She’d barely moved when a deafening crash rang out—the heavy, dark wood door splintered under a powerful kick. In the shadow, a pair of blood-red eyes locked onto her.

Panic-stricken, Aria turned to flee. But the figure moved faster, clamping a hand around her throat with an iron grip.

“Cough...”

Aria nearly heard her bones crack. Her breath cut off. She flailed, struggling desperately, the pain medication slipping from her fingers. The crimson eyes drew closer until his breath brushed her face.

Finally, she recognized him: Silas Collins.

His sculpted features were sharp and defined, his dark eyes red as blood, prominent veins pulsing at his temples. Clarity struck her all at once—he was poisoned.

The pattern resembled Kranz neurotoxicity, an obscure plant-derived poisoning described in her mentor’s research. Severe episodes could cause delirium and dangerous agitation. It was an illness, not evidence that he was less than human.

Her breath grew scarce. She drove the heel of her hand against his grip and twisted sideways. His balance failed, and she stumbled free as he collapsed against the doorframe. Aria backed away, gasping. He had not been brought down by a miraculous pressure point; he was exhausted and dangerously ill.

Barefoot, Aria rushed to the iron gate at the stairs and pounded on it desperately. “Help! Is anyone there? Silas is sick—he needs help!” No one answered.

What could she do? Aria glanced back at Silas, sprawled just inside the door—the once-feared leader now looked like a trapped beast, tormented by toxins in the dim corridor.

Despite being the Collins heir—admired, feared—he looked pitiful to her now.

She remembered the emergency plan in her professor’s case notes. Then she opened the labeled case and found Silas’s prescribed rescue medication, instructions, and the number for his on-call physician.

A wall intercom beside the door connected her to the house manager. “Call his doctor. Now. And unlock this gate.”

Aria followed the physician’s instructions while keeping a safe distance whenever Silas became agitated. Staff finally reached the corridor with the medical team. Only when his breathing and pulse had steadied did the physician allow her to remain beside him.

The crisis eased gradually. It was not a cure. For now, it was enough that he could recognize the room again.

Aria breathed a sigh of relief, a small smile breaking across her face.

As she checked the blanket over him, his hand caught hers. She lost her balance and braced herself against the mattress beside his chest.

Silas’s eyes snapped open—no longer red, just icy calm.

“What did you give me?” he demanded.

The closeness was stifling. His heartbeat was loud and steady beneath her. Aria felt a wave of nerves, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to put some distance between them.

“Medicine...”

Silas shifted toward her, then stopped when she pulled back. His gaze remained sharp, but he let go of her hand.

Yesterday had been a blur. Today was different—now she was acutely aware of being in this man’s arms. Her face flushed crimson, hotter than before.

Silas leaned down, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a low, rumbling whisper. “Why are you getting close to me? What’s your real agenda?”

It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. Aria’s embarrassment vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a hot flash of anger that blazed in her almond-shaped eyes.

“It’s a doctor’s job to save lives,” she shot back.

Regret hit her almost immediately. Why had she even bothered to help him? Whether he lived or died shouldn’t have been any concern of hers!

A lump rose in her throat. She fought back tears, her eyes shimmering with everything she refused to say.

Silas’s gaze lingered on the defiant woman in front of him—tears shining in her eyes, chin still lifted. Something complicated flickered in his deep-set eyes.

Since the incident in the rainforest on a privately owned Caribbean island, every time the poison dragged Silas under, it took a full day and night before it loosened its grip, and each episode lasted longer than the last. This was the first time he had come back to himself within an hour.

When the poison had him in its grip, his staff usually locked down the Collins estate. So why was Aria here alone, in his quarters on the third floor? Had someone planned it—or was it pure chance?

Silas rose and extended a hand toward her. Aria flinched back on instinct, half expecting him to lash out again.

Instead, he lowered his arm and helped her up off the floor. His gaze dropped to the sleeve of her borrowed shirt. “Did I hurt you?”

Aria rubbed the wrist he had caught during the episode. “I’ll be all right.” That was not the same as telling him it had been all right.

Aria burned to defend herself, but she bit her tongue.

Before she could figure out how to leave, Silas walked to the hallway and peered through the keyhole of the iron door. A bell echoed through the Collins mansion.

A moment later, footsteps approached from the other side, and a servant opened the iron gate.

Jericho and the others came in from outside—and stopped dead. Seeing Silas unharmed and coming down from the third floor clearly rattled them.

Seth hurried over, surprise plain in his eyes. “Silas, how did you—?”

Then he noticed Aria and turned to her. “Aria, are you okay? Did Silas hurt you?”

“I’m fine, Seth. He was...” Poisoned.

In one sudden move, Silas hooked an arm around Aria and pulled her against him, until her cheek rested near his chin. His voice was silk over steel. “Am I not enough for you? Already looking for another man?”

He spoke quietly—just loud enough for Seth and the others to hear.

“I would never!” Aria’s protest came out fierce. She had risked her life to save him, and now he was questioning her loyalty?

In that moment, anger and outrage eclipsed the sting of his accusation.

“Then behave. I, Silas Collins, won’t tolerate infidelity.”

“Rest assured, Aria Collins isn’t as shallow as you think!”

She clenched her fists, struggling under the weight of it—the betrayal from her own father and aunt cutting deeper than Silas’s words.

“Enough. Let’s go down for dinner,” Jericho said, breaking the tension.

Thankfully, dinner passed without further drama, and Aria made it back to her room.

That night, a servant knocked with bags full of clothes and shoes—undergarments included—all still tagged from the store.

Could Silas have had a change of heart? Was this his way of thanking her?

She thanked the servant, an unexpected warmth settling in her chest.

She was still changing when another knock came at her door.

“Just a second,” Aria called, yanking up the zipper at her back before opening the door.

Seth leaned against the doorframe.

Silas’s warning echoed in her head. Her heart skipped. “Seth.”

“Why so formal? Just call me Seth,” he said, warmth in his voice. There was something easy about him—like a gentle breeze.

“I’d rather keep it formal, Mr. Collins. Why are you here?” Her relationship with Silas might be a mess, but having Seth at her door felt improper.

Seth slid his hands into his pockets, admiration open in his eyes as he looked her over. “I came to see if the clothes fit. If they don’t, I can exchange them.”

Aria went still. Seth had bought the clothes.

Silas couldn’t possibly be that generous.

Suddenly the outfit felt wrong on her skin. She wanted nothing more than to change.

“Thank you, Mr. Collins. It fits fine. I’ll pay you back,” Aria said.

“Call me that again and I’ll be offended,” he teased. Then something seemed to occur to him. “Do you need anything for your visit home in two days?”

Visit home...

Bitterness spread from her chest all the way to her fingertips. What was there to go back to in that house?

But the thought of her mother sparked a flicker of hope.

“No need, Mr. Collins.”

Seth stepped closer and brushed a strand of hair away from her neck.

Aria instinctively stepped back, watching him warily.

He lifted the clothing tags. “May I?” He offered to cut them off.

“Thank you.”

Was she overthinking this? Seth’s actions felt far too suggestive.

Her heart stayed on guard. Seth’s easy manner confused her.

Before she knew it, the day of her visit arrived. When she got into the car, she noticed the back seat packed with beautifully wrapped gift boxes.

Could they be from Seth?

She couldn’t picture Silas doing something like this...

Her gaze drifted and caught Seth’s warm smile.

Then her wrist was seized without warning.

“The bracelet?”

Aria hesitated. “It’s too valuable. I took it off.”

Silas’s gaze turned to ice. “You dare take off something I gave you? Or do you only treasure his gifts? Don’t think I didn’t notice you flirting.”

She had barely looked at Seth, and already it was flirtation?

“You have five minutes to put that bracelet back on.”

Aria bit her lip and hurried back to her room.

Five minutes later, to the second, Silas saw the emerald bracelet back on her wrist and signaled the driver to go.

For the first time, Aria saw just how grand the Collins estate really was. Beyond the castle-like red-brick mansion where they lived, several two-story buildings sprawled out behind it. Past the Collins garden stretched a wide field of flower beds, violets still vivid even in late autumn.

It took twenty minutes just to reach the Collins gates.

Her visit was supposed to be about seeing her mother. Instead, her father had invited every Turner relative and friend, eager to show off her marriage into the Collins family.

Faced with all those welcoming smiles, Aria pressed her lips together and refused to move.

“Expecting me to carry you?” Silas’s sharp voice cut in beside her ear.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Aria opened the car door and stepped out in a fresh red day dress from her own suitcase. The three-quarter sleeves left the emerald bracelet on her wrist in full view.

Victor spotted the bracelet immediately, his fox-like eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Silas came up beside her, his suit perfectly tailored, his gaze fixed sharply on Victor.

“Welcome, Silas,” Victor began, already reaching to shake his hand.

Aria stepped between them. “Before the photographs, tell your guests who was supposed to be standing here.”

A ripple of confusion went through the Turner relatives. Fiona’s smile froze.

“Aria,” Victor warned.

“Fiona was the proposed bride. I took her place.” Aria met her aunt’s eyes. “You can at least thank me for saving your arrangement.”

Victor and Fiona exchanged a panicked glance. They could tolerate the announced substitution. They could not afford questions about how they had obtained Aria’s agreement.

“Is this how the Turner family welcomes guests?” Silas’s patience was clearly wearing thin.

Aria shot Fiona a contemptuous look. “Without basic manners, I’m not setting foot in the Turner house.”

Every eye was on them. Fiona was trapped.

She gritted her teeth. “Thank you, Aria.”

Aria deliberately looped her arm through Silas’s, her pink lips curving into a cold smile. “There. That wasn’t so difficult.”

Silas felt a flicker of awkwardness. He’d never been this close to a woman before. Yet, to his surprise, the sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant...

Victor, sensing the awkward tension between them, stepped in quickly to break the ice. “Why don’t we all head inside? Aria, you and Silas can get settled in.” There was a subtle warning under his words as he shot Aria a stern glance. She’d only just gotten home, and she was already stirring up trouble.

Still riding high from recent events, Aria looped her arm through Silas’s and led him into the house, while Fiona trailed behind with an annoyed huff.

The Turners were still processing what had just gone down. Aria had refused to play the grateful bride, and Fiona no longer controlled the room.

Aria had barely sat down when Fiona let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh, Aria, what happened to your head? Did someone treat you badly?”

Fiona’s eyes sparkled with mockery. So Aria had married into the Collins family—and she was still bound for a hard life!

Aria gave her a side-eye. “Are you saying the Collins family mistreated me?”

Fiona was so fixated on poking Aria’s sore spot that she forgot who was sitting right beside her.

Sure enough, Silas, irritated by Fiona’s insinuations, cut her a look cold enough to freeze water. His expression turned hard, his features darkening with irritation.

“I—I didn’t mean it like that at all... I’m just worried because you look hurt,” Fiona stammered, visibly shrinking.

Victor shot Aria a reproachful look. “You’re our guest today, Aria. Try to be gracious. Fiona, check whether dinner is ready.” He cast Fiona a meaningful look.

Eager to escape the tense atmosphere, Fiona was more than happy to leave. Silas’s presence was overwhelming; one glance from him sent shivers down her spine.

But Aria wasn’t letting her off that easy. “How about a cup of coffee for your guests?” Aria settled beside Silas. “You did invite everyone here to celebrate our marriage.”

“Why can’t you get it yourself? Why do I have to fetch it?” Fiona snapped without thinking, her tone defiant. Aria’s commanding attitude was infuriating.

Aria’s lips curved into a smile. “You made a point of inviting the whole family. Is this how you treat Silas’s wife?” Her gaze was sharp and unyielding, pinning Fiona in place.

Fiona’s face burned. Aria was making her play the gracious hostess in her own home, with every relative watching.

Watching his sister get treated poorly, Victor’s heart softened. “Oh, come now. There’s no need to hold grudges. Where’s the maid? Someone get Miss Aria a coffee...”

“Hold on.” A cold voice cut through the room.

A hush fell over everyone.

Silas’s commanding presence made every person hold their breath.

Fiona kept her head down, feeling the chill of his stare.

“You invited my wife here, then insulted her for asking for coffee?” His voice grew colder, full of unspoken authority.

Fear gripped Fiona. She managed a smile. “Of course not. I’ll get it right away.” She spun around and darted off.

Aria realized just how crucial power was in this dynamic; she wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore.

Fiona soon returned, carefully holding a cup of coffee, which she handed to Aria.

The cup was hot. Before Aria could get a firm grip, Fiona let go, and scalding coffee sloshed over Aria’s hand.

“Ah—” Aria cried out as the hot coffee seared her fair skin, leaving an angry red mark.

Aria jerked back, catching the cup against its saucer. Porcelain cracked and fell to the floor. Coffee ran over her wrist. She went straight to the kitchen sink and held the burn under cool running water.

“You let go before I had it,” she said, meeting Fiona’s eyes. “Don’t touch me again.”

“It was an accident,” Fiona protested.

“Then apologize.”

Fiona looked to Victor, but Silas had followed Aria into the kitchen. He fetched a clean towel and laid it beside her uninjured hand.

“She asked you a question,” he said.

Fiona’s expression tightened. “I’m sorry.”

No one laughed. No one hurried to defend her. For the first time since Aria’s return, Fiona looked uncertain of the room.

Silas asked a member of staff to clear the broken cup with a brush and dustpan. “No one needs another injury.”

Aria glanced at him. He did not look to the others for approval. That small act of care unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

Just then, the maid announced dinner. Victor exhaled in relief and invited everyone to the table.

What should have been a simple family visit felt more like a tense courtroom drama.

After cleaning up, Fiona shot Aria a venomous glare and stormed upstairs, refusing to dine with such company.

At the table, Silas stayed impassive, not bothering to touch his cutlery.

Eager to please, Victor offered Silas a serving of slow-roasted pork. “Silas, I’m sure you’ve heard about the challenges Turner Enterprises is facing?”

Aria stifled a snort. Her father never missed a chance to talk business.

Silas eyed the bowl with disdain, then unceremoniously dumped the pork aside.

Aria silently cheered. That’s what you get for sucking up!

Silas’s voice was cold. “Not interested. Turner Enterprises doesn’t even register on my radar.”

Victor swallowed his anger. His company still mattered—how dare anyone dismiss it? But with finances bleeding out, he had no choice but to ask for help.

He swallowed his pride and plastered on a smile. “It’s just a rough patch. I thought maybe we could work together...”

Silas set down his fork and turned to Aria. “What do you think?”

Aria stayed quiet, keeping her focus on her meal.

Victor offered her the breadbasket with a smile that never reached his eyes.

When she ignored the offer, Victor lowered his voice. “Aria, you know we’re under financial strain. If the company fails, we won’t be able to continue your mother’s treatment.”

Aria’s heart lurched. Was he really using her mother’s health as leverage?

Silas’s patience snapped. “Enough. We’re leaving.”

He pulled Aria to her feet without hesitation and led her outside.

Victor hurried after them, but they were already in Silas’s car, pulling away.

Watching the taillights fade, Victor cursed under his breath.

Hearing the commotion, Fiona rushed downstairs.

Seeing her brother’s fury, she piled on. “See how Aria acts? Just because she married into the Collins family, she thinks she’s all that! She owes us everything. Ungrateful brat!”

Fiona’s indignation was practically radiating off her—never mind that Aria had been pushed into the marriage because of their schemes.

Victor, already furious, was only provoked further by Fiona’s complaints. “Next time she visits, keep your temper. We need Silas’s investment to keep Turner Enterprises afloat.”

“Absolutely not! I’ll teach her a lesson—for acting so bold! I’ll put her in her place!” Fiona stormed off, phone already in hand, ready to text Aria.