The corridors seemed to stretch forever. Oil paintings of stern ancestors lined the walls. Crystal chandeliers hung from impossibly high ceilings.
Everything whispered old money, power, control. And somewhere in this palace of shadows lived the man she had been sold to.
A word of advice, Helena said as they walked. Don’t make him angry. Don’t ask questions.
Don’t expect kindness. She paused. The man you’re about to meet is not the man he used to be.
Since the accident, he’s become difficult. Difficult how? Helena’s expression flickered. Almost pity. Three nurses have quit in the past month.
One left in an ambulance. The last physical therapist resigned after Mr. Langston threw a paper weight at his head.
Berlin’s blood ran cold. They stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. His bedroom.
Helena said he rarely leaves it anymore. She pushed the door open and shoved Berlin inside.
The room was dark. Heavy curtains blocked every trace of sunlight. The only illumination came from a small lamp in the corner, casting twisted shadows across expensive furniture.
The air smelled stale and unused, like a tomb. And there, in the center of the darkness, sat a man in a wheelchair.
Zire Langston. Even sitting, he was terrifying. Broad shoulders strained against his black shirt, arms like weapons rested on the chair.
Overgrown curly hair and a short, messy ponytail that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in years.
His face was all sharp angles and hard lines, a strong jaw, high cheekbones, full lips set in a permanent scowl.
But it was his eyes that made Berlin forget how to breathe. Dark, intense, burning with barely contained fury.
Those eyes found her in the shadows and held her like a trap. So his voice was deep and rough, like thunder rolling through a storm.
The Thorn family finally sent their precious daughter. Berlin forced herself to stand straight. I’m Ivory.
I know who you’re supposed to be. The words hung in the air. Loaded with something Berlin couldn’t identify.
Zire wheeled himself closer. Each rotation of those wheels felt like a countdown. Closer, closer, until he was near enough that she could see the scar along his jawline.
Could feel the heat of his anger radiating like a furnace, could smell his cologne, something dark and masculine that made her pulse quicken despite her fear.
Let me tell you how this works, Ivory Thornne.” He spat her sister’s name like poison.
“You stay in the east wing. You don’t enter my room without permission. You don’t speak to me unless spoken to.
You don’t spend my money without my permission. You don’t pretend this marriage is anything other than what it is.
Berlin found her voice. And what is it? A transaction. His lip curled. Your family wants my money.
My grandmother wants an air. And I’m stuck in this chair, unable to stop any of you from circling like vultures.
He wheeled even closer. Close enough that Berlin had to step back. But make no mistake, his voice dropped to a deadly whisper.
I am not some helpless invalid. I built an empire from nothing. I destroyed men with more power than your entire family combined.
And if I suspect you’re scheming against me, he grabbed her wrist. His grip was iron, crushing.
Berlin gasped. I will make you wish you had never been born. He released her suddenly.
