Chapter 3

Alexis wrapped the black trench coat around herself and stepped out of the VIP ward with Paige right behind her, walking down the carpeted corridor toward the top-floor conservatory garden.

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the bulletproof glass dome, mixing with the scent of cedarwood cologne and expensive cigars. Outside the lounge area ahead, four burly bodyguards in dark gray custom suits stood in a line, gun holsters bulging slightly under their jackets.

Paige tugged Alexis's sleeve and whispered in her ear.

"Look at that lineup. That's the Fifth Avenue Sharpe family's security detail. I heard their most notorious second young master broke his leg street racing again and got sent here."

Austyn Sharpe. Alexis stopped dead in her tracks.

She didn't just remember the tabloids calling him a trust-fund waste who lost a hundred million at a poker table in a single night. She remembered a charity gala from her past life: she had walked past the terrace holding champagne when this man leaned against a pillar and told her, "Your father's packaging patent will get him killed sooner or later." Three days later, a billion-dollar merger led by Zamora Industries had mysteriously collapsed overnight. Six months after that, Wall Street bled red as an anonymous capital giant—signing off only as "S"—single-handedly bankrupt three legacy hedge funds in seventy-two hours.

She knew "S" was the paralyzed man in that wheelchair. Austyn Sharpe was never a reckless playboy; he was a brilliant, ruthless predator who orchestrated corporate executions while playing the fool. In her past life, Colby had relied on corrupt judges, dark web hackers, and dirty financial maneuvers to destroy her family. Standard legal battles or peaceful negotiations would never stop him. If she wanted to drag Colby into hell, she didn't need a white knight—she needed a monster with lethal claws, someone with the raw ruthless power to tear the Zamora family apart at the seams.

And even clearer was her memory of this exact day at Mount Sinai: in her past life, she had accidentally helped him earlier, and he had told her, "I owe you a favor. Come find me when you know what you want." Last time, she had walked away like a naive heiress. This time, she came to collect.

Through the trimmed green hedges, Alexis spotted him.

Austyn Sharpe wore a black silk shirt with two buttons undone at the collar. His right leg was resting under a thin cashmere throw, locked inside a lightweight cast he wore solely to feign injury and deceive his rivals, while his long fingers idly spun a custom lighter. His special assistant, Khalid Figueroa, bowed slightly and handed him an offshore trust report.

"Sir, the first branch thinks your crash damaged your nerves. They already proposed cutting your trust dividends at this morning's board meeting."

Austyn didn't even lift his eyelids, letting out a low, cold laugh.

"Let them cut it. Every bone those idiots swallow, they'll spit back out with interest."

Alexis's heart thudded hard against her ribs. His exaggerated injury and reckless playboy reputation were nothing more than armor to induce complacency in the first branch. Right now, even this dangerous predator was facing a temporary vulnerability: the Sharpe family's aggressive first branch was using his "accident" to choke off his capital permissions. He possessed unmatched financial firepower, but he lacked an ironclad industrial asset to silence the elders on the board.

She held the patents; he held the iron fist and private hedge fund channels. She was handing him the perfect weapon to seize his throne, and in return, he would become her most lethal executioner.

If I want to crush Colby and the vipers behind him, I need the deadliest blade in Manhattan on my side. And to bind a man like Austyn Sharpe, a simple deal isn't enough—I must tie our destinies together under a legal bond.

Pulling her arm free from Paige's grip, she took a deep breath and walked straight toward the security line. Two black-suited bodyguards stepped forward immediately, raising their arms to block her.

"Sorry, ma'am. Private area."

Alexis didn't flinch, looking right past the guards' shoulders into the dark eyes of the man in the wheelchair.

"Mr. Sharpe, do you need a bargaining chip that will let you break the first branch's chokehold and legally take over your family's core capital?"

Austyn's fingers paused on the lighter. He narrowed his dark eyes, studying her face before raising a hand.

"Stand down. Let her through."

At the end of the corridor, two socialites coming out of the dermatology clinic covered their mouths with their handbags, giggling as one raised her phone to snap a photo of the crazy woman throwing herself at that Sharpe degenerate.

"The Davenport heiress?" Austyn curved his thin lips in mockery. "If I remember right, every Manhattan media outlet this morning was broadcasting your engagement to that lapdog from the Zamora family."

"That dog is about to have his legs broken by my own hands," Alexis replied evenly.

She leaned forward and planted both hands on the armrests of his wheelchair, bringing her face close enough to feel his breath. A faint scent of camellia brushed past Austyn's nose. He raised an eyebrow and leaned back slightly, his gaze dropping to her pale lips.

"So, the noble Miss Davenport broke through my security detail just to declare a rebellion to my face?"

Alexis looked straight into his eyes and spoke clearly, dropping her cards one by one.

"I know your trust dividends are being choked by the board. I know you need a solid industrial firewall to prove to the elders that you aren't just a reckless playboy wasting family assets. That's why I'm here."

Austyn's expression shifted by a fraction of a millimetre, the amusement in his dark eyes instantly replaced by a razor-sharp evaluation.

"Go on."

"I want you to marry me, Mr. Sharpe."

Behind him, Khalid's expression cracked in shock. Austyn's smile faded completely, dark currents surging in his eyes as he looked at the young woman who had just uttered insanity.

"Proposing to the biggest waste in Manhattan? Alexis Davenport, did you hit your head?"

Alexis curved her lips into a cold, unbroken smile.

"I'm bringing the exclusive voting rights of the Davenport core semiconductor patents as my dowry—an asset powerful enough to anchor any conglomerate's board—in exchange for your private hedge fund channels and absolute enforcement."

She held his gaze, her voice low and steady.He will take the bait. Because he knows better than anyone that an alliance built on lethal utility and shared power is infinitely stronger than love.

Austyn reached out, his long fingers gripping her chin as his voice dropped to a cold whisper meant only for the two of them.

"Do you know what it means to marry a family tumor?"

She didn't pull back. She simply met his gaze and smiled.

"I don't care about tumors, Mr. Sharpe. I only care about who survives."