Pawning My Wedding Ring to Buy His Worst Enemy

"You prepared this fast," I pointed out, staring at the thick stack of paper Julian slid across the black marble.

"I drafted it six months ago," Julian answered. "I was waiting for you to realize your husband was a parasite."

I stared at the bold header. *Asset Merger and Marriage Contract.*

"Six months?" I raised my chin. "You've been tracking my marriage that closely?"

"I track everything that affects my market share."

"Marriage." I tapped my ruined fingernail against the paper. "That's your collar?"

"It binds your assets to mine." Julian kept his dark eyes locked on my face. "It gives me absolute authority over your estate when we dismantle his empire. Arthur can't touch a single dime if you are legally bound to me."

"He thinks I'm dead."

"He will eventually find out you aren't. When he does, this piece of paper is your shield."

"And your weapon."

"Exactly."

I didn't bother flipping the pages. I reached for the heavy silver Montblanc pen resting near his keyboard.

"You aren't going to read it?" Julian asked, crossing his arms.

"I don't need to read the fine print."

"You should. Section four dictates your living arrangements. You move into my estate tonight. Section nine outlines the fidelity clauses. If you violate them, I seize your remaining shares."

"I don't care about your rules, Julian. I only care about the fifty million."

"Sign it, Cora. And you belong to Thorne Industries."

I uncapped the pen.

I pressed the nib into the thick parchment.

The scratching sound tore through the silent office. It echoed off the glass walls, deafening and sharp. I dragged the ink across the signature line, carving my name so hard the paper nearly ripped. The friction sent a jolt of pain up my wounded palm, but I ignored it.

I tossed the pen. It clattered against the marble.

"Done."

Julian stared at the fresh ink. He didn't smile. He didn't offer a handshake.

"You just handed over your entire life," he said quietly.

"My life ended an hour ago in that garage."

He stepped away from the desk. He picked up a black suit jacket draped over a leather armchair.

He walked up behind me.

The heavy fabric dropped over my shoulders. The silk lining slid against my grease-stained skin. A wave of rich cigars and sharp cedar wood surrounded me.

My spine snapped rigid. The warmth of his clothing clashed violently with the freezing oil still clinging to my collarbone. A jarring, sudden shift. For three years, I had only smelled cheap vanilla and Arthur's sharp cologne. Now, I was wrapped in the scent of my husband's worst enemy.

The jacket felt heavier than it looked. The weight of it pressed down on me, grounding me. I ran my thumb over the embroidered crest on the lapel. A lion holding a sword.

"You're shivering," Julian stated, adjusting the collar near my neck. The gold Thorne family crest gleamed, a heavy brand marking me as his property.

"It's adrenaline." I pulled the jacket tighter around my chest.

"It's shock. Sit down before you bleed on my carpet."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"And I told you that you are my guest now. Sit."

His command left no room for argument. I sank into the leather chair opposite the desk.

Julian walked back around the marble barrier. He pressed a silver button on his intercom console.

"Yes, Mr. Thorne?" a voice crackled through the speaker.

"Marcus. Arthur Vance is bidding on the South City plot tonight."

"The auction starts in twenty minutes, sir."

"Cut his funding chain." Julian leaned closer to the microphone. "Call the bank directors. If they approve a single loan for his shell companies, I will liquidate their offshore holdings by midnight."

"Understood, sir. Initiating the block now."

Julian released the button. He looked at me.

"The South City plot is the anchor for his new logistics hub," I told him, my voice steadying. "He needs that land to secure the union contracts."

"He won't get it." Julian leaned his hips against the edge of the desk. "By tomorrow morning, his investors will panic. By noon, he will be scrambling to find private lenders."

"He'll try to use my shares as collateral."

"He can try. But legally, your shares just transferred to me."

"When Marcus cuts the funding," Julian added, "Arthur's primary account will freeze. He will try to transfer funds from the joint accounts to cover the bid."

"He can't." I looked up. "I locked them before I came here."

"You locked a joint account?"

"I changed the master passwords. He needs my fingerprint to bypass the security."

"He will think it's a glitch."

"He will think it's a glitch until the auctioneer bangs the gavel and he loses the land." I smiled, the expression feeling foreign on my stiff face. "He's going to lose his mind."

"Good. A frantic man makes mistakes."

"Are you sure you can handle the fallout?" I asked. "When he starts losing everything, he will tear this city apart looking for answers."

"I want him to look." Julian met my gaze. "I want him to exhaust every resource he has before he realizes I hold the leash."

"Revenge is a messy business, Julian."

"I'm already funding a war. I don't care about a mess."

I looked down at the desk.

Next to the space where the contract had just sat, my cracked phone screen lit up.

A text notification popped into view.

*Arthur: Sleep well, honey. Drive carefully on the mountain road tomorrow.*

I stared at the words. My stomach twisted into a tight, cold knot.

"He sent it two minutes ago," I whispered.

Julian glanced at the screen. "A digital alibi."

"He wants the police to find this message on my corpse." I dragged my thumb over the cracked glass. "He wants to play the loving husband right up until the end."

"Let him play." Julian reached over and turned the phone face down on the marble. "Because tomorrow, the game belongs to us."