Chapter 4

I stood in the center of the living room, my lips still tingling from a kiss that had felt more like a conquest than a comfort.

Roman didn't look at me, but he just walked back to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the city like he already owned every brick and steel beam.

"You're shaking, Ivy," he said without turning around.

"I... I have a right to be," I whispered, hugging my arms around my chest. "You just threatened to bankrupt my father in front of me and you told Marcus we’re a Voss-Sterling alliance. What does that even mean?"

Roman turned slowly, the morning light catching the sharp angle of his jaw. "It means exactly what it sounds like. I didn't marry you out of the goodness of my heart, Little Bird. I’m a businessman. And you are the most valuable asset your father ever mismanaged."

He walked toward me, his steps heavy and deliberate. He stopped just inches away, forcing me to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.

"Sit," he commanded. It definitely wasn't a suggestion and I found myself following his command.

I sat on the edge of the sofa, my knees knocking together.

"My grandfather’s will has a very specific and a very annoyingly archaic clause," he began, his voice dropping into that dark, smooth register. "To fully unlock the Voss Family Trust, the billions currently sitting in limbo,” he frowned as he spoke. “I must be married to a woman from a foundational New York lineage. The Sterlings fit the bill but that’s only half of it."

"And the other half?" I asked, my heart hammering.

"Your father is a fool, and he’s been cooking the books for years to hide his gambling debts. He was using your marriage to Marcus to bridge the gap with Miller’s capital." Roman leaned down, placing a hand on the back of the sofa, effectively trapping me. "But I don't bridge gaps, I fill them. By marrying you, I’ve gained the legal right to audit every cent the Sterlings own. So I’m going to strip that company down to the bone, take what’s useful, and discard the rest."

"You’re going to destroy my family," I breathed, horror rising in my throat as my pupils shook. What have I gotten myself into?

"I'm going to save you from their sinking ship," he corrected, his eyes darkening. "In exchange, you stay married to me for exactly one year. You attend every gala, you smile when I touch you. You play the part of the obsessed, doting wife so the trustees see exactly what they want to see."

"And if I don't?"

Roman reached out, his fingers trailing down my neck, stopping right at the pulse point that was fluttering like a trapped bird. "Then I stop protecting you. I let the banks take your home and I let the police look at those offshore accounts with your signature on them. You’d be traded from a penthouse to a prison cell in forty eight hours baby girl." He raised a brow as his evil smile showed his perfectly white teeth.

I swallowed hard as I stared at him. "You're a monster."

"I'm the monster you hired," he corrected, waving his finger at me like a maniac, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Now, go to the bedroom. There are boxes on the bed. So put on the black dress. We have a board meeting in sixty minutes."

He pulled me up with my hands and pushed me towards the bedroom, but not aggressively.

My legs felt like lead as I walked toward the door, but as I reached for the handle, I stopped. "Roman? Why did you kiss me like that? In front of them? You didn't have to go that far."

He paused, his gaze raking over my body with a heat that made my skin flush. "Because I wanted Marcus to know exactly what he lost.” He let the words hang in the air. “And because I wanted you to know exactly who you belong to now."

I blushed then fled into the bedroom and shut the door behind me. That man was crazy. I should have listened to Mila and minded my business but now I took a fox demon home that would cunningly take everything from me.

On the bed sat a sleek, black designer box and inside was a dress that cost more than my college tuition. It was a skintight, black piece with a back so low it was scandalous. Next to it was a note in sharp handwriting.

-Wear the heels. I like you tall-

I rolled my eyes as I tossed the note aside. I took my bath and changed my clothes. As I zipped the side, the realization hit me. I was married to the man they called the Vulture. I was going to become the Queen of a kingdom built on the ruins of my own father’s life for a year. Maybe that didn't sound so bad after all. My father has been horrible to me, but I didn't want him to face jail time.

When I was ready, I walked back out into the living room, the four-inch heels clicking on the stone. Roman was waiting by the elevator, his coat over his arm. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on the curve of my hips before meeting my gaze.

"Better," he grunted as he stood up, his suit fitting perfectly to his slender frame.

The elevator ride down was silent, the tension between us thick enough to choke on. As we stepped out into the lobby, where a fleet of black SUVs was waiting. The paparazzi were already there as flashes exploded like lightning. They really did always know where to be, these news hungry insects.

Roman pulled me tight against his side, his hand heavy on my waist, shielding me as we moved toward the lead car.

Just as the driver opened the door, a man in a tattered coat shoved through the crowd. He definitely wasn't a photographer and he looked desperate, his eyes wide with terror as he lunged toward Roman.

"Voss! You can't do this! You promised me more time!" the man screamed.

Roman didn't even flinch as his security detail tackled the man instantly, slamming him into the pavement.

“Please Roman….please!” The man kept screaming on top of his lungs for nothing. “I'll pay back every cent.”

"Wait!" I cried out, reaching for the man. "He’s hurting him!"

Roman’s hand clamped onto my arm, pulling me back into the SUV but not painful to hurt. He slammed the door shut, locking us in the silent, leather-scented interior.

"Ignore it," Roman said, his voice cold as ice.

"How can I simply ignore that? He looked terrified,” my eyes narrowed as I stared at him.

“Roman! Who really are you?"