I still remember the taste of cheap champagne and regret. One night. That’s all it was supposed to be. One night with a man whose name I didn’t even know—just his hands, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was already his.

Then I saw him on the cover of Forbes.

Darius Kane. Billionaire. Power player. Heartless.

And now, standing in the rain outside my locked apartment, pink slip in hand, I hear his voice behind me: 'You have nowhere to go. Marry me for one year, and I’ll fix it all.'

I laugh, half-hysterical. 'Why? Because we slept together once?'

He steps closer, umbrella shielding us both. 'Because you’re carrying my child. And I don’t let anything that’s mine suffer.'

My breath catches. He knows.

'No love,' he says flatly. 'Just contract. Just control.'

But when his hand brushes mine, something sparks—something dangerously close to want.

Do I walk away and risk losing everything?

Or do I say yes… and risk losing myself?