Masuk"The answer is still no, Mr. Sterling!" Valerie snapped, jabbing her index finger directly into Killian's hard chest. "And if you push that paper in my face one more time, I will throw you out of your own window!""Is that a threat, Valerie?" Killian asked, his voice dangerously calm as he stepped right into her space."It's a promise," she spat, her cheeks flushed with fever.The double doors of the private elevator chimed, sliding open to reveal Dr. Evans carrying a heavy leather medical bag. The silver-haired physician took one step into the penthouse foyer, saw Valerie jabbing Killian's chest, and froze dead in his tracks.Color drained instantly from the doctor's face."M-Mr. Sterling!" Dr. Evans panicked, his voice stuttering in sheer terror as he practically dropped his bag. "Y-your condition! Please back away! Touch... contact.. you know what happens!"Dr. Evans braced himself, fully expecting Killian to break out into a severe allergic reaction or fly into an icy rage at bein
"You're going to burn a hole through that glass if you stare at it any harder."Valerie didn't move an inch. She kept her face turned toward the tinted limousine window as they glided down the winding road, leaving the secluded Sterling Mountain Estate behind. Her wet house slippers rested on a dry towel Philip had handed her before they left the villa."I am practicing looking at things that are far more pleasant than your face," she replied flatly.Killian didn't look up from his encrypted tablet. "A wall of mountain fog? Fascinating choice."Valerie turned her head, her dark eyes flashing with fire. "Three hours and twenty minutes left, right? You don't need to waste your breath entertaining me.""I am not entertaining you," Killian said, shutting his tablet with a quiet click. "I am observing a stubborn woman who would rather freeze on a private mountain peak than admit she needs an ally.""An ally?" Valerie scoffed loud and clear. "You are an opportunist, Mr. Sterling. You had yo
Killian slid the heavy gold pen across the bedside table until it bumped against the thick stack of papers."Sign it," he said.Valerie stared down at the gold pen, then slowly lifted her gaze to his face. "Are you insane? I was thrown out of my home five hours ago. The rain on my back is barely dry, and you want me to sign a marriage contract?""I don't play games, Valerie," Killian said, leaning back in the plush leather armchair beside her bed. "You have zero money, zero place to stay, and an ex-husband who thinks he completely destroyed you. I am offering you fifty million dollars, your mother's stolen company shares back, and your own independent design studio."Valerie folded her arms tightly across her chest. "And what do you get out of this? A shiny new toy?""I get a wife to satisfy my nosy mother," Killian replied flatly. "You don't need to understand the full details of why I chose you."Valerie scoffed loud and clear, extending one finger to push the gold pen right back a
The breakfast tray sat untouched on the rolling mahogany table across Valerie’s lap. She couldn't eat. Her eyes were fixed on the clean, thick stack of cream-colored paper Killian had just placed in front of her.At the very top, embossed in heavy gold ink, were the words: MARRIAGE AGREEMENT.Valerie looked up, her heart hammering against her ribs. Killian stood at the foot of the bed, his hands clasped casually behind his back. He was fully dressed now in a dark, tailored midnight-blue suit that emphasized his broad shoulders, his hands covered securely in a fresh pair of black leather gloves. The intense warmth from his bare hand the night before felt like a hallucination."A marriage contract?" Valerie’s voice was barely a whisper. "Are you insane? I finalized my divorce from Damian less than twelve hours ago.""Exactly," Killian said flatly, his dark eyes fixed on her pale face. "Which means you are currently a legal free agent. And you are also completely destitute."The cold tru
Valerie held the heavy black file like a weapon, her grip ready to rip the cardboard in half. She marched out of the servants' quarters, her chest heaving as she stormed straight into her old bedroom to grab her coat and passport. If she was leaving this graveyard, she was leaving on her own terms.She jammed her hand into her wardrobe, but before her fingers could touch the fabric, a cold voice cut through the room."Leave it."Damian stood at the doorway, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. Petra lingered just behind his shoulder, watching with wide, innocent eyes.Valerie turned, her jaw tight. "I'm taking my clothes and my legal documents, Damian. I bought them with my own inheritance money before I ever met you.""The last time I checked, everything in this estate belongs to Vance Enterprises," Damian said, his face completely expressionless. "You signed over your full assets and power of attorney to the company last year. Technically, you own nothing. Every dress, every
Valerie didn’t sign the papers. She couldn’t. Her pride was a shattered heap on the floor, but a stubborn, manic part of her refused to just vanish.By the very next morning, the grand foyer of the Vance mansion looked like a high-end luggage department. Trendy pastel-pink suitcases and designer trunks were piled high against the minimalist white walls. Petra hadn't even waited twenty-four hours to completely take over."Damian said the master suite on the second floor has the best morning sunlight," Petra said smoothly, her heels clicking with an obnoxious, rhythmic tap as she strolled into the kitchen.Valerie was standing by the counter, trying to brew a cup of tea to stop the violent trembling in her chest. She hadn't slept a single wink. Her mind was a chaotic, emotionally unstable mess, teetering dangerously between hot, burning rage and a suffocating despair.Petra walked right up to the kitchen island, deliberately rubbing her flat stomach with a soft, practiced stroke. A smug







