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!"