Chapter 4

ANNABELLE'S POV

Days went by slowly. Since I walked out of Killian’s office with nothing, I hadn’t been able to eat or drink. Even looking at myself in the mirror made me sick. My mind kept replaying two things: Killian turning me down and the terrifying thought of Gerald and his sidekick throwing my body into a River.

At work, I couldn’t focus. I forgot the words to songs during circle time, and almost gave one of my students, who’s lactose intolerant mac and cheese. I mistakenly poured paint on the floor and had to stay late so I could clean up the mess.

The sky was dark and heavy with rain as headed home. Holding my bag tightly, I jogged from my bike to my door. I reminded myself I had pepper spray and a Taser, and that there was no way Gerald would kill me at home.

When I entered my building, I reached for the light switch but froze when I saw the lights were already on. Before I could react, someone grabbed my wrist and spun me around. I swung my bag at the person’s face with a scream. They dodged easily, letting the bag hit the floor. My things spilled everywhere. I tried to claw at their eyes, but they caught my wrists in one strong hand and pressed me back against the door, pinning me in place.

“Let me go!” I shouted. To my shock, the person actually let me go, stepping back and picking up the pepper spray that had fallen from my bag. They looked at it as if it was a toy.

“Killian?”

I blinked in disbelief and surprise, but it was him. Killian King, standing in front of me in a designer trench coat, expensive shoes, and his usual scowl that somehow made my heart race.

“You’re here,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. Why was he here? How? When? My brain was full of questions.

He raised an eyebrow. “I'm here to offer you a proposition .”

“Huh?” I brushed my messy hair out of my face, trying to focus because Killian had this way of being impossibly handsome and annoying at the same time.

“Remember when I said I don’t do favors for free?” he asked, holding the pepper spray.

I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, today is your lucky day,” Killian said.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe that,” I replied.

At this point, I wasn’t just unlucky. I felt cursed like I was at rock bottom and someone kept digging.

“I know what I want from you,” he continued.

“You want something from me?” I put a hand to my chest, faking surprise. My heart was racing, but I couldn’t help it. Killian never missed a chance to make me feel small. “I’m shocked.”

Killian stepped closer, and I could smell him, masculine, and expensive. His presence was overwhelming.

“If this is going to work, you can’t fall for me,” he said, his voice cold.

There was no point telling him I’d never stopped having feelings for him. Not fully. He brushed a strand of my damp hair out of my face without actually touching me. His icy gaze made it clear he didn’t want to be here.

“I’ll solve your problems,” he said. “Your debts, your divorce, all of it. I’ll make it disappear. Not as a loan, a gift.”

I felt relief flood my body.

“Oh, Killian, thank you so much”

“Don’t interrupt me,” he snapped, his voice sharp. “I never waste a good crisis, and yours is useful to me. You won’t pay me back with money. You’ll pay me back in another way. You’re going to marry me. Be my wife, Annabelle. Smile for the cameras. Attend events with me. And give me children. As many as it takes to have a son. One, three, five,however many it takes.”

“Yes!” I said quickly, desperate to accept his offer. “I’d love to” Then his words hit me. Wait, what?

I stared at him, trying to figure out if this was some cruel joke. It wasn’t. Killian King wasn’t the type to waste time on jokes. He didn’t even have a sense of humor. “You want me to marry you?” I asked, surprised

He nodded, looking serious. The man I’d dreamed about for years wanted to marry me. But there was only one possible answer.

“No.” I pushed him away. “No way. Not in a million years.

“Explain,” he demanded, his tone sharp.

“We can’t marry,” I said firmly. “We don’t love each other and I know you think love is beneath you.”

“Middle class,” he corrected. “Comfortable enough not to care, stupid enough not to aim higher. Working and upper classes take finances seriously. May I remind you the last time you married for love, it ended in debt, a runaway husband, and death threats? Love is overrated. It can’t be trusted. But mutual goals? Alliances? Those last.”

He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean I could do this. The truth was, I didn’t want to marry him because a part of me did love him. Killian had been my first crush, my first obsession. A part of me would always want him, and that was dangerous. I didn’t trust him with my heart. Plus, marrying Boston’s most hated man was a terrible idea. One bad husband was enough for a lifetime.

“Let’s compromise,” I offered, forcing a bright smile. “I’ll date you. Be your girlfriend. Go to events, take pictures. We’ll make it look real.”

He looked at me like I was a joke. “You think your company is worth three hundred thousand dollars ?”

“You want me to live with you, act like your wife, and have your kids, for three hundred thousand dollars? A surrogate gets paid that much for one baby!” I shot back. “Then go for a surrogate,” he said with a shrug. “That takes time! I don’t have time!” I screamed at him.

“You don’t seem to have much sense, either,” he said, tapping my forehead like I was stupid. “This is your only way out.”

“You’re a cold and heartless bastard,” I hissed, pushing him away and I'd rather die than marry you .