Chapter 3

For a whole month, I didn’t see Harrison. I didn't want to.

The chemotherapy started a week after my diagnosis. My hair began falling out in clumps. While the poison burned through my veins to keep me alive just a little longer, Harrison was busy playing the devoted lover on Instagram.

Nancy at an exclusive art gallery in Paris. Nancy on the deck of a yacht, pointing out at the twenty-million-dollar private island he had just bought her. Nancy smiling brightly in a custom Vera Wang gown, the white silk hugging her perfect, healthy body.

His caption: "Finally getting to see my beloved in the dress she deserves."

I locked my phone and tossed it onto the hospital tray. I looked out my hospital window.

I didn’t see a black sedan parked across the street. It had been following me since the day I got kicked out of Harrison's estate.

It was Tuesday when my phone buzzed. Caller ID: Harrison.

I stared at the screen, letting it ring four times before answering.

"City Hall. Tomorrow at 10 AM," his voice grated through the speaker, cold, impatient, and commanding. "Bring your ID. We're getting the papers signed."

After eighty-eight staged 'accidents' he funded to kill me off, he was finally initiating the marriage .

"I'm not—"

Click. He hung up.

I was going to text him to go to hell. But I remembered my father's pocket watch. I still hadn't gotten it back.

At the very least, it couldn't stay in Harrison's hands any longer.

I arrived at City Hall at 9:50 AM the next day. The morning wind was biting. I pulled my oversized trench coat tighter around my frail frame and adjusted the black beanie covering my thinning hair.

10:30 AM.

11:00 AM.

My joints ached from standing. The bone pain from the chemo was flaring up, shooting hot needles up my spine.

At 11:15, a black Maybach violently pulled up to the curb. Marco, his head of security, stepped out and opened the back door.

Harrison stepped onto the pavement.

I frowned. He looked like absolute garbage. His bespoke suit was wrinkled. Deep, bruise-like circles hung under his bloodshot eyes. As he walked toward me, a heavy wave of stale tobacco and black coffee hit my face.

He stopped two feet away. His eyes scanned me from head to toe.

He actually flinched.

"What the hell happened to you?" he blurted out.

His gaze locked on my sunken cheeks and the pale, sickly yellow tone of my skin.

"Are you sick?" he demanded, his brows furrowing.

"None of your business," I said flatly, keeping my hands buried in my pockets.

His brief moment of shock vanished, instantly replaced by his usual sneer. "Still playing the victim. Did you starve yourself just to make me look bad? We’re taking a marriage photo today, Stella. You look like a damn corpse. Are you seriously going to stand in front of a judge looking like this?"

"I’m not here to take a photo. And I’m not here to marry you." I pulled my right hand out and held it palm up. "Give me the watch."

Harrison froze. His jaw tightened, the muscles ticking under his skin. "What did you just say?"

"My father's pocket watch. Hand it over, and I'll walk away. You can go back to your island with Nancy. "

A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. He took a heavy step closer, his tall frame towering over me, casting a dark shadow.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a vicious whisper. "What trick ar you up the again? "

I kept my hand steady. "The watch, Harrison. Now."

"Cut the bullshit!" He suddenly lunged, his large hand clamping around my wrist like a steel vise.

I gasped. The pressure crushed against my brittle bones.

"Let go of me!" I struggled, digging my heels into the concrete, but I was far too weak.

"You spent three years using that fucking blood debt to chain me down!" he snarled, violently dragging me toward the marble steps of City Hall. "You want the Churchill name so badly? Fine! I’ll give you the title. We'll sign the damn paper. But I swear to God, Stella, I will make every single day of your life a living hell."

"Harrison, stop! You're hurting me!" My sneakers scraped against the stone stairs. I tried to pry his thick fingers off my wrist with my free hand. "I said I don't want to marry you!"

"Shut up and walk!"

Before he could haul me through the revolving glass doors, his phone rang.

Harrison stopped dead in his tracks. He let go of my wrist, pulling his phone.

I stumbled back, rubbing my throbbing wrist, panting heavily.

I watched Harrison's face.

The annoyance faded instantly. The color drained from his skin, leaving only a terrifying, pale mask of absolute rage.

"Coma? What do you mean she's in a coma?" Harrison's voice dropped to a deadly, hollow whisper.

A pause. The silence on the street suddenly felt suffocating.

"A syringe?"

My stomach dropped. Nancy.

Harrison slowly lowered the phone. He didn't hang up. He just turned his head to look at me. The look in his eyes wasn't just hatred anymore. It was pure, unadulterated murder. The kind of look a mafia boss gives right before he pulls the trigger.

"You..." he breathed out, stepping toward me.

"What?" I backed up, my spine hitting the cold stone pillar of the building.

"Nancy is in a coma." His voice was eerily calm. "They found a used syringe of a lethal muscle relaxant in her bedroom. And a typed note on the bed."

"I have been in the hospital for a month," I said. "I haven't left my room until today. I didn't do anything."

"The security cameras at the estate were cut. But they found a wire transfer receipt from a burner account to a known fixer in the underground." He took another step, trapping me against the pillar. "The receipt had your initials, Stella. And the burner phone pinged a mile from your apartment last night."

Before I could process the setup, he lunged. His hand wrapped violently around my throat.

"You couldn't just take the marriage!" he roared, his composure shattering, spit flying into my face. "You had to try and kill her again!"

"I... didn't..." I choked out, clawing desperately at his iron grip. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. I couldn't breathe.

"If she dies," Harrison whispered, leaning in so close I could feel the heat of his trembling breath on my face. "I won't hire someone else to do it this time. I will skin you alive myself."