Chapter 2

Elena

My spine went rigid in an instant, a sense of dread rising in my chest.

Slowly, I lifted my eyes and met Beckett's—clouded and greedy.

Humiliation swept through me. I wanted to stand and slap him, but fear rooted me to the spot.

Beckett reached out, yanked me into his arms, and held me tight.

"My little darling, sorry to keep you waiting. You know how it is—a successful man like me always has business getting in the way."

"I know you can't wait. Don't worry, I'll make it good for you."

His hands roamed all over my body, and the rotting stench of him made me want to gag.

I couldn't endure the humiliation any longer and tore myself free from his grip.

Choking down my fear and my anguish, I forced myself calm and glared at him.

"Mr. Beckett, I'm warning you—touch me again and I won't let you get away with it!"

Beckett wasn't the least bit frightened. Instead, he pulled out a handkerchief, dabbed at his gleaming bald head, and sneered.

"Nothing disgusts me more than a woman who plays hard to get. This little act is just your way of squeezing more money out of me. I've seen plenty of women like you."

He seized my wrist. "Relax. As long as you keep me happy, I'll pay you well enough. But first, I need to inspect the goods."

With that, he began dragging me into the room. I clung to the doorframe, refusing to let go, but he was far too strong—I couldn't hold out. My fingers scraped a long streak down the frame.

Just as I was about to be dragged into the abyss, a strong, powerful arm snatched me away from Beckett.

Startled, I looked up and met a pair of beautiful pale blue eyes.

A man in a sharply tailored suit stood between me and Beckett, his handsome face set in an expression of grave authority that would tolerate no violation.

Seeing me pulled from his grasp, Beckett stormed up to the man, seething with rage. But the moment he got a clear look at the man's face, his eyes flickered with panic—though his mouth refused to concede.

"Elias? She's my date. She's just throwing a little tantrum. Please don't interfere in our affairs."

I rushed to explain. "No! He forced me toward the room—he was trying to rape me."

Beckett's face changed at once. He bared his teeth and roared at me, "What nonsense are you spouting? You came willingly! You just want to milk me for money!"

Elias's face was cold, the muscle twitching along his jaw proof enough of his fury.

"Mr. Beckett, whether or not this woman came willingly, the security footage in the hallway will make that perfectly clear." Elias raised a hand and pointed toward the camera in the corner of the corridor.

Beckett frowned, his eyes darting back and forth, and then a fawning smile crept across his face. "I was only joking with Elena."

The words had barely left his mouth before he fled as though his heels had been greased.

Watching Beckett's retreating figure, I let out a deep breath of relief.

"Are you all right? Do you need me to call the police?" Elias's voice was warm and gentle.

His decency left me flustered. Without thinking, I smoothed my hair—but the red marks on my neck, left from the night's intimacies, only deepened my shame.

I drew a deep breath and forced myself to steady.

"Not yet. Before I go to the police, I need to be sure of a few things. Only with evidence in hand can I make them pay."

If I called the police now, Beckett and Charlotte would insist we'd had a consensual encounter, plain and simple. Before that, I had to gather proof that Charlotte had offered me up to Beckett like a sacrifice. Only then could I win back justice for myself.

I looked into Elias's pale blue eyes and thanked him sincerely. "Thank you for saving me just now. I'll do everything I can to repay your kindness. But right now, I have something urgent to attend to, so I really must go—"

As I spoke, I clutched my briefcase, ready to make my escape. But Elias blocked my path.

"Elena, can we talk?"

There was an indefinable force about him—not menacing, but more like the aura of a man who had made his mark on the world. That aura made me yield without thinking, and I followed him back into the room.

Elias handed me a glass of ice water, then walked to the window to make a phone call before returning, unhurried, to sit down across from me. I, on the other hand, sat as though on pins and needles. After all, this was the very place where my sordid encounter with Beckett had unfolded the night before—the traces of it were everywhere in the room. And now here I was, talking with a different, unfamiliar man. The thought sent shame crawling through my heart.

Elias spoke first. "I just contacted the hotel's security department. They'll pull all the footage of Beckett coming and going. Perhaps it can help you."

I don't think anyone could know how astonished I was in that moment. He had gone out of his way to obtain the security footage for me—and a hotel of this caliber would never entertain such a request from an ordinary person like me.

Elias went on. "If you need help, my team will take care of everything for you."

My God. He was nothing short of my savior. Compared to Beckett's slimy, twisted nature, Elias's fine character was so far above him that Beckett couldn't even compare to the dirt under his fingernails.

Kind as he was, this was a matter of revenge—something I would rather see through myself. So I declined.

"Thank you, sir. You've already helped me a great deal. I'm a lawyer, and I'd like to handle the rest of this on my own." I paused. "And—just say the word, and I'll do everything I can to repay your kindness."

Elias's expression stayed calm, yet I still caught a flicker in his eyes—regret? Or some other feeling I couldn't name?

Then he changed the subject. "Perhaps you could do me a favor as well—become my wife, and help me fend off an arranged marriage my family is pushing. You may not know it, but I believe an arranged marriage is the greatest murder of love there is. So—would you be willing to do me this favor? As repayment?"

There was a sincerity in his eyes that I couldn't refuse.

My heart was pounding wildly. I pressed my lips tightly together, afraid it might leap out of my throat.

"Mr. Elias, are you joking?"

"Elena, I know this is sudden for you. Perhaps it sounds more like a business arrangement—but I would compensate you, in your life and in your career."

He studied me for a few seconds, his fingertips lightly rubbing together, then continued. "I currently work at my family's company. If you agree to marry me, my family and I will be the most solid backing you could have. And of course, if you have any concerns, you can dissolve the marriage at any time—you'll receive a substantial settlement."

I was stunned by this abrupt "proposal," my mind racing to parse every word Elias said. His reasoning was airtight, and my offer to repay him seemed to fall right into his plans. Everything seemed so perfect it felt like a con.

Elias appeared to sense my unease. He produced a prenuptial agreement and set it before me. "I've already had my lawyer draw up the agreement. Your rights will be protected by law—I trust you'll be able to read it for yourself."

I took the prenup, and my eyes went wide. Just as he'd said, all the leverage lay with me: if I filed for divorce, I would receive fifty million dollars in settlement.

"Mr. Elias!" I cut him off, drew a deep breath, and said firmly, "I'm sorry—I can't accept."

However flawless his terms, refusing would only make me look like a fool who didn't know a good thing when she saw it. But I couldn't do it. Last night, in this very place, I had been raped by Beckett. Even if none of it was my fault, my shame had reached its peak—it threatened to shatter me completely at any moment. And Elias had witnessed the whole filthy affair. That would be a memory I could never erase. I was determined to hold Beckett accountable to the very end, but the scandal was bound to affect Elias's reputation. I would gladly do anything to repay him—anything but marry him.

Elias froze for a moment, as though he'd never imagined I would refuse. But he quickly regained his composure and asked, "Elena, why?"

I let out a faint laugh, my nose stinging. "Elias, you know—I've just been through an assault. Someone in your position deserves a perfect wife."

Elias frowned and seemed about to say something more, but I stood at once and pulled a business card from my bag.

"I'm sorry to turn down your kindness. This is how to reach me. Anything but marrying you—I'm willing to do anything for you."

With that, I rushed out of the room. Only after I'd left the hotel did I finally let myself relax. My heart was a tangle of emotions—on one side, seething hatred for Beckett's shameless conduct; on the other, regret at having refused Elias.

Dazed and heartsick, I made my way back to my apartment in Brooklyn. There were only thirty dollars left in my wallet, and payday at the firm was still nineteen days away. If I couldn't hold out until then, I'd simply have to go hungry—there wasn't a single person left in my contacts who would lend me money.

Just as I stepped into the apartment's cramped, airless stairwell, a force yanked me to one side, and a lecherous laugh sounded in my ear:

"Pretty little thing! You're finally back—we've been waiting for you a long time!"