When I didn't budge, Sam leaned in, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper. "Don't forget that our business deal hinges on this marriage. If you make a mess of things now, it screws us both. Your grandfather is watching from above. You don't want to let him down, do you?"

He knew my grandfather's dying wish was to secure this partnership and protect our family's legacy. That was why Sam was so smug, certain I'd swallow my pride no matter how far Candace pushed me.

I clenched my fists, meeting his gaze with icy resolve. "The partnership was my grandfather's dream, but my dignity isn't your plaything."

...

I shoved past him, grabbed my clothes, and stormed into the bathroom. When I emerged, fully dressed, he was lounging on the couch, stubbing out a cigarette.

"Feeling better?" he asked, as if nothing had happened. "Get some sleep. We've got to visit your family tomorrow."

"No need for that," I said, my mood too raw to engage. "This marriage is over. Pretend it never happened."

He shot to his feet, stunned. "What's this nonsense? You're making a mountain out of a molehill over nothing."

"Talk about overreacting," Candace chimed in, twirling my grandfather's seal in her hand as she poked her head out of the study. "Wedding night pranks are supposed to bring good luck. What kind of bride flips out like this?"

I rushed over and snatched the seal. "Who gave you permission to touch this?"

It was the only thing my grandfather left me, a symbol of my right to lead the Myers Group, but now a corner was chipped, exposing a jagged scar.

Candace flinched at my outburst and hid behind Sam with a pout. "I'm sorry. I just thought the stone was pretty and wanted to hold it. I didn't know it was so fragile."

"Why are you yelling?" Sam sulked, shielding her. "It's just a stone seal. Chipped, so what? I'll have someone carve you a new one."

"Just a stone?" I snarled, slapping him. "This is the only thing my grandfather left me! You let her ruin it, and you think a replacement fixes that? Should I replace your mother with a new one after I drive her to her grave?"

I pointed at the seal's damaged edge. "Look at this! It's clearly been smashed against the table on purpose! Are you blind, or do you just not care?"

His head snapped to the side from the force of my slap, anger flashing in his eyes. He glanced at the seal, then waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine, I understand that it's important to you," he said. "But she didn't mean it. Candace's been frail since she was a kid. Stress can trigger her condition. Can't you just let it go? We're family now. Why sour things over something so small? We'll all have to face each other eventually."

I swallowed my rage, snatching the seal back. "Family? I'd rather die than be part of yours. Agreeing to this marriage was the biggest mistake of my life!"

Candace let out a piercing scream, clutching her chest and collapsing to the floor, convulsing. "My heart... Sam, it hurts so much."

Sam went pale with panic. "Candace, what's wrong? Don't scare me!"

He scooped her up, glaring at me with raw fury. "Happy now? You had to push her to a breakdown, didn't you?"

With that, he rushed toward the door. I stood my ground, unyielding. "You're worried about her episode, but what about me? She humiliated me in front of thousands and ruined my grandfather's keepsake. Do you think I'm not in pain?"

He paused, looking back with a conflicted look. "Her condition could kill her. Can't you be reasonable? Let me get her settled, and I'll explain everything later."

Without waiting for my response, he disappeared through the door.

My grandfather's dying words echoed in my mind, his frail hand clutching mine. "The alliance is important, but you must live with dignity. Never let anyone trample you."

I'd failed to live up to his expectations. For the sake of this so-called alliance, I'd turned myself into a laughingstock.

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and dialed a number.

It rang once before a calm voice answered, "Hello?"

"Mr. Schneider, does your promise from years ago still stand?"

"Cathy? Always."

I took a deep breath, resolute. "Marry me. I want the Whitman family out of the picture in three days."

"Done," he said without hesitation. "Time and place?"

"Tomorrow, 10 a.m., City Hall," I replied, ending the call.

...

I gathered my things and headed to the guest room to crash for the night.

Sam returned, booting the door open. Furious, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the exit. "You viper! Candace has severe heart-related anemia because of you! You're coming to the hospital to donate your blood!"

I stumbled, pain shooting through my wrist. "Are you insane? What has it got to do with me?"

He yanked harder, ignoring my protest. "I'm not asking. Don't make me force you. The doctor says her anemia is critical, and you're the only match with her rare blood type. You're doing this."

He shoved me into his car and sped toward the hospital.

In the room, Candace lay on the bed, an oxygen mask over her pale face, looking every bit the dying waif. But when she saw me, she reached weakly for Sam, a smug smirk curling her lips.

Sam pinned my wrist and forced me into a chair. "She's got the blood type. Take as much as you need."

The nurse hesitated, watching me struggle. "Sir, this lady doesn't seem willing."

Sam pulled a stack of cash from his wallet and slammed it on the table. "Do it. I'll handle any fallout."

I was held down as the needle pierced my skin. Blood flowed through the tube, bag after bag filling as the nurse swapped them out. My body grew colder, my head heavier, the world blurring around me.

In my daze, I heard Candace's frail voice. "Sam, is it okay to take so much? What if she can't handle it?"

He soothed her. "She'll be fine. You're the one who's suffered. When you're better, I'll take you abroad to relax."

"Really?" Her voice perked up. "You're the best, Sam."

She sent him off to get some fruit from downstairs, then sauntered over to me, dropping her frail act. "See? This is the difference between us. You thought a marriage contract could tie him to you? Pathetic."

She crossed her arms, smirking. "He's always loved me. I wanted you to suffer, so he played along with this little blood-draw show to keep me happy. Your blood and your pride? Worthless."

Her cruel laughter pierced my ears as I retched, my vision darkening. Sam had known all along. He knew she was faking it to torment me, yet he still played her game.

Rage and betrayal burned through me as I lost consciousness.

When I came to, I was slumped in a chair by Candace's hospital bed. She leaned into Sam's arms, tears streaming down her face.

"Don't be mad at Cathy," she murmured. "I don't want to ruin your marriage. I'm fine, as long as you're okay."

He wiped her tears, his voice tender. "Focus on getting better. That's what matters."

Then his eyes flicked to me, heavy with something unspoken.

"As for Cathy," Sam said, "I'll smooth things over with her later."

Utterly disappointed, I dragged myself upright, gripping the chair for support. "Sam, this is the last time I say your name. You and the Lombard family can do whatever you want. This marriage? It never happened. Let Candace be Mrs. Whitman. She's welcome to it."

Without waiting for their responses, I staggered out of the room.

...

The next morning, at 9:50 a.m., I stood outside City Hall.

The sky hung heavy with gray clouds, mirroring the weight in my chest. I was about to call Fabio Schneider when a familiar car screeched to a stop in front of me.

Sam, Candace, and my almost-mother-in-law stepped out, their faces smug.

"I knew you'd show," Sam said, smirking. "All that tough talk, but here you are, ready to make nice."

He thought I had regretted my decision and came to register for our marriage. His mother, Vicky Whitman, crossed her arms and glared down her nose at me.

"Smart move," she snorted. "But let's be clear: in our house, you follow our rules. No more picking fights with Candace. She's our honored guest. Treat her like a sister."

Candace peeked from behind Sam, her expression mock-timid. "Cathy, don't be mad. I went too far yesterday. Can we just get along?"

Their performance drew a whispering crowd.

"What's with this girl? Throwing a fit and making her whole family beg her to get the license?"

"The guy is practically groveling, and she's still pouting."

Sam soaked up the attention, extending a hand with a patronizing air. "Alright, don't embarrass us in public. Apologize to Candace and promise to treat her right. I'll let last night's outburst slide. We'll go in and make it official."

He was certain I'd cave for the sake of the deal and my grandfather's legacy.

I looked at his smug face and laughed. "Get along with the woman who crashed my wedding night, yanked off my covers, and broadcast my humiliation? No thanks. Three is a crowd in bed. And who said I'm here to get the license with you?"

His smirk faltered, his face twisting with annoyance. "What's that supposed to mean? Stop playing games."

"You ungrateful hussy!" Vicky screeched. "My son's willing to marry you, and you're still acting high and mighty? One call from me, and your family is finished!"

I turned to leave, done with their noise. But Sam grabbed my arm, hissing, "You're not going anywhere until you explain! Are you cheating on me? Who's the guy?"

I shook him off, the needle mark from yesterday's blood-draw throbbing and bleeding anew. "You think I can't survive without you?"

"Can you?" he sneered.

"Go to hell!" I cursed, raising a middle finger.

A glance at my phone showed 10:00 a.m. on the dot. Humiliated and furious, Sam raised his hand to strike me.

I braced myself, turning away, but the blow never came. Instead, a cold voice cut through the air. "Let her go!"