Chapter 1

His hands close around my throat.

Seven months pregnant, and Derek's fingers dig deeper, cutting off my air.

"You should've stayed quiet," he hisses.

I can't answer. Can't breathe.

Behind him, my sister Celeste watches with her arms crossed, perfectly manicured nails tapping her Chanel bag.

Not a flicker of concern.

Not a trace of the girl who used to braid my hair.

"Will be fine without you," Celeste says coolly, like we're discussing weather.

"The contract says I'm the legal mother. You're just the incubator."

Incubator.

Not a person. Not her sister.

An incubator.

Black spots dance in my vision.

I've been carrying their child for seven months.

Now they're deciding whether to let me live.

My hands claw at Derek's wrist—

Derek's grip relaxed.

And I drove my knee straight into his groin.

He crumpled with a howl. I ran.

Barefoot. Pregnant. Terrified.

The rain hit me like ice as I burst through the back door, stumbling across the manicured lawn toward the gate. My lungs burned. My belly cramped. But I didn't stop.

Headlights.

A black car screeched to a halt inches from my body. I threw my hands up, blinded, ready for impact—

The door opened.

A man stepped out. Tall, dark suit, face carved from shadow and fury.

"Lyris Ashford?"

I blinked through the rain. "Who—"

"Get in the car." His voice was command, not request. "They're coming."

Behind me, I heard Derek's roar. Celeste's heels on concrete.

I looked at the stranger. At his outstretched hand.

And I made a choice.

I got in.

The car peeled away before I could breathe. I pressed my palm against my stomach, feeling the baby kick—alive, fighting, just like me.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

He didn't look at me. Just handed me a folder thick with documents.

"My name is Kieran Blackwell. And your sister stole more than your baby from me."

I opened the folder.

The first page was a photograph. A woman with my sister's smile, lying in a hospital bed.

Dead.

"She was my mother," Kieran said quietly. "Celeste was her surgeon. And she murdered her for the inheritance."

My hands shook.

"I've been building a case for three years," he continued. "But I need someone on the inside. Someone she trusts."

"She just tried to kill me."

"Which makes you perfect." He finally looked at me, and his eyes were winter storms—cold, calculating, but burning underneath. "Marry me, Lyris. Help me destroy her. And I'll make sure you keep your baby."

I stared at him.

At the madness of it all.

At the folder full of evidence that my sister was a murderer.

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," he said simply. "But right now, I'm the only one who wants to keep you alive."

Behind us, sirens wailed.

In my belly, my baby kicked again.

I thought of Celeste's cold smile. Derek's hands on my throat. The life I almost lost.

"Fine," I said. "I'll marry you."

Kieran's lips curved—not quite a smile, but something sharper.

"Welcome to the war, Mrs. Blackwell."

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