Chapter 3

The crack of Kurt's fist against the oak wall killed the whispers in the hallway instantly. The guests held their breath, staring at the bleeding knuckles of Wall Street's most ruthless man.

Elissa looked at the blood on his skin without blinking.

"Good," she said flatly. "Because you make me sick, too."

Kurt spun fully around, his tall frame closing the distance between them in a single stride. The sheer heat and fury radiating off him made the narrow space feel airless. Looking down at her, his ice-blue eyes churned with violence.

"You'd better pray this wasn't your doing," Kurt said, his voice dropping to a lethal murmur. "Or I'll make sure you don't even have a psychiatric ward left to crawl back to."

Alysia stepped between them, her eyes red and her voice choked with tears.

"Kurt, please don't be like this. Elissa couldn't have done it on purpose, it must be a glitch..." She turned her tear-stained face toward Elissa, her tone dripping with condescension. "Elissa, explain it to Kurt quickly. You don't want to ruin our relationship, do you?"

Elissa gave Alysia a cold sideways look, watching her like a clown performing a cheap circus act. Ignoring her completely, Elissa turned on her bare heel to push past the crowd.

Before she could take two steps, Kurt reached right past Alysia, clamped his hand onto Elissa's shoulder, and yanked her backward.

"Let her go, Kurt."

An old, commanding voice cut through the tension from the back of the crowd. The guests parted immediately as Richard Stewart walked forward, leaning on a solid silver cane with four bodyguards flanking him. Stopping in front of his son, Richard struck the floor hard with his cane.

"The men of the Stewart family do not break trust mandates," Richard said, his sharp eyes fixed on Kurt.

Kurt dropped his hand from Elissa's shoulder and met his father's stare, his jaw clenched tight.

"I said I won't marry a woman covered in filth."

Richard let out a dry laugh. "You don't have to. But before the stock market opens tomorrow morning, you will receive a formal removal notice from the board of directors."

Kurt's breath caught, just once. He gritted his teeth.

"Are you threatening me? I hold forty percent of the consortium's voting rights!"

"You hold those voting rights because the founder's trust recognizes you as the legitimate heir and grants you control of those shares. They are not yours to keep unconditionally." Richard's voice remained calm, but his eyes turned steely. "The trust agreement makes your inheritance and your position as CEO conditional on honoring the founder's mandates. If you refuse this marriage, the breach clause will automatically freeze the shares registered under your name and transfer their voting power to the family trust. The board will have no choice but to remove you as CEO."

Richard tapped his silver cane against the floor once more.

"You can call it a threat if you like. I call it the consequence of breaking an agreement you inherited along with your fortune."

Gasps echoed down the corridor. Kurt's face turned livid. He knew exactly how the clause worked. His forty percent gave him decisive control over the consortium, but that control existed only because the founder's trust had named him its successor. If the trust withdrew its recognition, he would lose not only his voting power but also the foundation of his position at the top of the empire.

Beside him, Alysia's face went dead white. If Kurt lost his CEO seat and his billions, the crown she had spent years scheming to wear would turn to dust. Her tears dried up instantly. Letting go of Kurt's sleeve, Alysia quietly took half a step backward to put distance between them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt caught Alysia's retreat. He shut his eyes and rubbed his temple hard with his bloodied fingers, torn between the empire he had built and the trap closing around him. Elissa stood to the side, watching the father and son trade blows with a faint, mocking curve on her lips.

Richard turned his head toward Elissa, his tone polite but leaving no room for refusal.

"Miss Crawford, you will remain at the estate tonight. My attorneys will have the prenuptial agreement ready at dawn."

Kurt's eyes snapped open, the whites webbed with red blood vessels. He stared at his father, then forced a single word through his teeth.

"Fine."

He wasn't agreeing because he wanted Elissa. He was accepting the only option that kept his empire from being stripped away overnight. And if he had to be bound to her to protect everything he had built, he would make sure she never mistook that necessity for affection.

Richard nodded once, turned around, and walked away with his guards. Hayward gave Elissa a long, complicated look before hurrying after them, and the rest of the guests quickly cleared out of the hall.

Soon, only Elissa and Kurt remained in the dim corridor.

Kurt stepped forward, backing Elissa into the corner until her shoulder blades hit the wall. He planted both hands on the paneling beside her cheeks, trapping her completely inside his shadow. Leaning down until his cold lips nearly brushed the shell of her ear, he spoke in a freezing whisper.

"You won, Crawford. But remember this—this marriage is going to be your grave."

Pressing her spine against the cold wood, Elissa looked straight into his blue eyes without flinching.

"Mr. Stewart, we'll see who ends up buried in it first."

Kurt let out a harsh laugh, his gaze dropping over her bloodless cheeks and thin coat before he pushed off the wall. Turning his back on her, he strode away toward the estate's private lounge.

Elissa watched him disappear, her expression gradually turning cold. She had no intention of accepting this marriage. But with Hayward threatening her mother's inheritance and the career she had fought so hard to rebuild, she couldn't afford to make a reckless move in front of them. She needed time, and more importantly, a way out.

She waited until the corridor was empty before slipping toward the estate's back service wing. The trust mandate might have trapped her legally, but it hadn't taken away her ability to run.

Behind her, the wedding guests were still whispering about the trust mandate. No one paid much attention to the barefoot woman slipping away from the ballroom.