Chapter 6
698 Words
Shattered Trust
The office at the clinic was cold. Not physically—but the kind of cold that settled in your bones when the walls you’d built your life around started to c***k.
Leona stared at the paperwork spread across her desk. Audits. Legal notices. A formal investigation letter, signed and sealed.
Someone had buried her clinic in red tape overnight.
Across from her, Margo looked like she’d aged five years in five hours. “It’s like they’ve been preparing this for months. And whoever tipped them off? They knew exactly where to look.”
Leona rubbed her temples. “I’ve never taken a dime from this place. Everything’s accounted for. But if they make it look dirty—if donors start pulling back…”
“We won’t survive,” Margo finished quietly.
A sharp knock hit the door before it opened.
Elias.
He stepped in, all pressed elegance and steel beneath the surface. Not the billionaire persona. Not the fake fiancé. Just… Elias.
“We need to talk,” he said, shutting the door behind him.
Leona didn’t stand. “Unless you have a miracle in that suit jacket, I’m busy watching my life fall apart.”
He crossed the room, placing a folder on her desk.
Inside: financial breakdowns, internal memos, leak tracking reports—all with the Thorne Industries logo stamped across the top.
“I had my people dig,” he said. “Whoever set this up knew what they were doing. The source of the leak came from a private server in Midtown. Registered under a shell company owned by Vivienne’s attorney.”
Leona blinked. “You’re serious?”
“She’s not just trying to hurt me,” Elias said. “She’s trying to end you.”
“Why?”
“Because she sees you as a threat.”
Leona laughed bitterly. “I’m not a threat, Elias. I’m a prop. A pawn in your corporate performance.”
“Maybe that’s how it started,” he said, stepping closer. “But it’s not what this is anymore.”
She looked up sharply. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t blur the lines.”
“I’m not the only one doing that.”
His voice was quiet. Controlled. Dangerous in a way that made her heart beat too fast.
She stood abruptly. “This is not some romantic tragedy, Elias. This is my real life. My real clinic. My people. I can’t afford to be dragged into some legacy war between you and your ex and your father.”
“I know.”
“No—you don’t. You think everything can be fixed with a signature or a bank account, but this? This is mine. And if I lose it, I lose everything.”
His jaw clenched. “Then let me help.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Then take my name.”
The silence dropped like a stone between them.
“What?” she said.
“Marry me.”
Her breath caught.
“Not in six months. Not later. Now. Today. Make it real. You’ll have full protection. No one will touch you without going through me first. I can shield the clinic, kill the scandal, buy you time.”
She stared at him like he’d gone mad. “You think a marriage license is going to fix all of this?”
“No,” he said. “But it will shut them up long enough for us to take control.”
“And when it’s over?” she asked, voice quiet.
“We walk away clean.”
She hated how tempting it sounded.
She hated how much she wanted to believe him.
“This is insane,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said. “But so was letting me put that ring on your finger in the first place. And you did it anyway.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a folded document.
A marriage license.
Signed by him.
All it needed was her.
She looked at it.
Then looked at him.
And all she could think was—
This isn’t a love story.
But it might be a war worth fighting.
- Writer
