Isla's POV
I don't sleep.
Can't sleep.
I sit on my bed in my freezing apartment, reading the contract over and over until the words blur together.
Party B agrees to transfer thirty percent controlling shares...
No alimony, no settlement, no division of assets...
Marriage of convenience only. No romantic or physical relationship implied...
Every clause is designed to destroy me. Take everything. Leave me with nothing except my mother's life.
And I signed it willingly.
My phone says 4:47 AM. In one hour and thirteen minutes, my mother goes into surgery. The surgery that will save her life. The surgery I bought with my soul.
I should feel relieved. Grateful. Hopeful.
Instead, I feel terrified.
Because I just handed complete control of my life to a man who spent eleven years plotting revenge against my father. A man who watched me suffer for months, waiting for me to get desperate enough.
A man who bought me like property.
At 5:30 AM, I give up on sleep. Shower in cold water because the hot still isn't working. Put on my cleanest work clothes, the ones without visible stains or holes.
Lucas said James would pick me up at 8 AM for shopping. But first, I need to be at the hospital. Need to see Mom before surgery. Need to make sure this is really happening.
I take the subway to Mount Sinai, clutching a coffee I can't afford but desperately need.
The hospital is massive. Gleaming glass and steel. The kind of place where rich people come for their medical miracles.
The kind of place I could never afford.
Excuse me, I tell the woman at the reception desk. Emma Walsh. She's having surgery this morning?
The woman types on her computer. Room 512. Fifth floor. But surgery prep starts at 6 AM, so you'll need to—
I'm her daughter. I need to see her before she goes in.
Something in my voice makes the woman look up. She sees my face—exhausted, desperate, barely holding together—and her expression softens.
Fifth floor. Elevators are on your left.
I run.
The elevator takes forever. My hands shake holding my coffee. What if something went wrong? What if Lucas changed his mind? What if this is all some cruel joke?
The doors open. I rush down the hallway to room 512.
And stop dead.
The room is completely different from Bright Hope. Bigger. Brighter. Equipment that looks brand new. Flowers on the windowsill. A comfortable chair for visitors.
And my mother, sitting up in bed, looking more alert than I've seen her in months.
Isla! Her face lights up. Sweetheart, you didn't have to come so early.
I burst into tears.
Can't help it. Just seeing her here, in this beautiful room, about to get the surgery that will save her life, it's too much.
Mom. I collapse into the chair beside her bed, taking her hand. How are you feeling?
Nervous. Excited. Confused. She squeezes my hand. Isla, this room... the doctors... everything is so expensive. That man, Lucas, he really paid for all this?
Yes. He promised.
But why? What does he want in return?
The question I've been dreading.
I can't tell her the truth. Can't say I sold myself in a contract marriage. Can't admit I signed away my shares and my freedom.
He's helping because he can, I say carefully. He has money. You need surgery. It's that simple.
Mom studies my face. She's weak, but she's not stupid. Isla. What did you do?
Nothing. I just
You made some kind of deal with him. I can see it on your face. Her grip tightens. Sweetheart, what did you promise him?
The door opens before I can answer.
Dr. Sarah Chen enters, followed by two nurses. She's maybe fifty, with kind eyes and an air of competence that immediately makes me feel better.
Mrs. Walsh, I'm Dr. Chen. I'll be performing your surgery this morning. She smiles warmly. How are you feeling?
Nervous, Mom admits.
That's completely normal. Let me explain what we're going to do...
Dr. Chen talks through the procedure. Medical terms I barely understand. Something about valve replacement and experimental techniques. A four-hour surgery. Recovery time in ICU.
Success rate? Mom asks quietly.
Eighty-five percent. Which is excellent for a procedure this complex. Dr. Chen looks between us. Mrs. Walsh, this surgery should give you many more healthy years. You'll need medication and regular check-ups, but your prognosis is very good.
Mom starts crying. Thank you. Thank you so much.
Thank Mr. Kane. He made this possible. Dr. Chen checks her watch. We'll start prep in twenty minutes. Isla, you can stay until then.
The medical team leaves. Mom and I sit together, holding hands.
I'm scared, she whispers.
Me too. But you're strong, Mom. You're going to get through this.
If something happens
Nothing's going to happen.
But if it does. She squeezes my hand hard. I need you to know how proud I am of you. How much I love you. You survived your father's cruelty. Survived Derek's betrayal. You're stronger than you know, Isla.
Mom, don't
And whatever deal you made with Lucas Kane to pay for this surgery... Her eyes lock on mine. Don't let it destroy you. Promise me. No matter what it costs, don't lose yourself.
Too late, I think. I already signed myself away.
But I can't tell her that.
I promise, I lie.
The nurses return at 5:55 AM. Time for pre-op, Mrs. Walsh.
I kiss Mom's forehead. I'll be right here when you wake up. I love you.
I love you too, sweetheart.
They wheel her away. I watch until she disappears through the surgical doors.
Then I collapse in the waiting room chair and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
At 7:30 AM, my phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number, Lucas's assistant, probably: James is downstairs. Shopping appointment at 9 AM. Do not be late.
I type back: My mother is in surgery. I'm not leaving.
Three dots appear. Then: Mr. Kane says you can shop after surgery. James will wait.
Of course he will. Because I'm Lucas's property now. His bought-and-paid-for wife. I go where he says, when he says.
The anger feels good. Better than the fear.
At 8:15 AM, someone sits beside me.
I look up, expecting a nurse with an update.
It's Lucas.
He's in a perfectly tailored black suit, looking like he just stepped out of a boardroom. Not a hair out of place. Not a wrinkle in his clothes.
I probably look like a disaster. No makeup. Coffee-stained shirt. Eyes red from crying.
What are you doing here? I ask.
Checking on my investment.
The cruel words sting. She's not an investment. She's my mother.
And you're my wife. Or you will be in two weeks. He settles into the chair, completely relaxed. How long has she been in surgery?
Two hours. Dr. Chen said four hours total.
Sarah's the best. Your mother's in good hands.
You know her surgeon personally?
I know everyone worth knowing. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through emails. I donated fifteen million to Mount Sinai's cardiac wing last year. Dr. Chen owes me several favors. Your mother is getting the best care available.
He says it casually. Like fifteen million dollars is nothing. Like saving my mother's life is just another business transaction.
Thank you, I force out. For doing this.
Don't thank me. You're paying for it. His eyes flick to mine. With your shares. Your freedom. Your name. This isn't charity, Isla. It's a transaction.
I know exactly what it is.
Good. Then we understand each other.
We sit in silence. Lucas works on his phone. I stare at the surgical doors, willing them to open with good news.
At 9:47 AM, Dr. Chen finally emerges.
I jump up. How is she?
Dr. Chen smiles. Surgery went perfectly. Emma's in recovery now. Her heart is functioning beautifully. She'll be in ICU for twenty-four hours, then moved to a regular room.
Relief crashes over me so hard I almost collapse. Lucas's hand catches my elbow, steadying me.
Can I see her? I ask.
In about an hour, once she's settled in ICU. But she'll be unconscious for several more hours.
I don't care. I just need to see her.
Dr. Chen nods. A nurse will come get you when she's ready.
She leaves. I sink back into the chair, my whole body shaking.
She's okay, I whisper. She's really okay.
I told you she would be. Lucas stands. Now, you need to eat something before you pass out. And then we're going shopping.
I'm not leaving until I see her.
You will see her. In one hour. Which gives us exactly enough time to get food and discuss your new wardrobe requirements.
I want to argue. Want to tell him to go to hell.
But he saved my mother's life. And I signed a contract agreeing to obey.
Fine. One hour.
Lucas leads me to the hospital cafeteria. Orders food without asking what I want—coffee, a bagel, fruit, yogurt. More food than I've eaten in days.
Eat, he commands.
I eat mechanically, too exhausted to argue.
The wedding is in two weeks, Lucas says, pulling out a tablet. City Hall. Friday morning. Small ceremony. Just witnesses.
No white dress? No flowers? No family?
You want your father there? His voice is ice.
No. God, no. The thought of Edward at my wedding makes me sick.
Good. Neither do I. Lucas swipes through documents on his tablet. After the ceremony, you'll move into my penthouse immediately. Your belongings from your apartment will be packed and moved by my staff.
I can pack my own
No. You'll be too busy. He shows me his screen. A calendar packed with appointments. Monday: wardrobe. Tuesday: hair and makeup consultations. Wednesday: meeting with wedding planner. Thursday: final dress fitting. Friday: wedding. Saturday: move-in day. Sunday: first public appearance as my wife.
My head spins. That's insane. I have work. Three jobs. I can't just
You quit all three jobs this morning. Or rather, I did. Sent resignation emails from your accounts at 6 AM.
Rage floods through me. You had no right
I had every right. You signed a contract. Being my wife is now your full-time job. He leans closer. And trust me, Isla, it's going to be the hardest work you've ever done.
I want to scream. Want to throw my coffee in his perfect, arrogant face.
But a nurse appears. Ms. Thornton? Your mother is ready. You can see her now.
I stand immediately, abandoning Lucas and his demands.
Mom is in ICU, surrounded by machines. Unconscious but breathing steadily. Alive.
I take her hand carefully, trying not to disturb the IV.
You did it, Mom, I whisper. You survived. You're going to be okay.
Behind me, Lucas's phone rings. He steps into the hallway to take the call.
I hear his voice, cold and professional: The marriage contract is signed. Emma Walsh's surgery was successful. Phase one complete. Inform Edward Thornton that his daughter will be marrying Lucas Kane in two weeks. I want him to know exactly what's coming.
My blood runs cold.
He's already telling my father. Already starting his revenge.
And I'm the weapon he's going to use to destroy Edward Thornton.
I look at my mother's peaceful face. At the machines keeping her alive. At the expensive hospital room I could never afford.
This is the price. My freedom for her life.
I chose this.
Now I have to survive it.
Lucas returns. James is waiting downstairs. Time to go.
I want to stay with her.
She's unconscious. She won't know you're here. His voice softens slightly. You can come back tonight. But right now, you have an appointment with the best stylist in Manhattan. And you're going to keep it.
I kiss Mom's forehead one last time. I love you. I'll be back soon.
Then I follow Lucas Kane out of the hospital, into the waiting car, toward a life I didn't choose.
But at least she's alive.
That has to be enough.
Because it's all I have left.