MARRIED TO THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE

FIVE DAYS TO SAY YES

Avery arrived home at 2:17 in the morning.

The Bennett residence in Westchester was a sprawling stone house with a circular driveway, formal gardens, and a mortgage everyone pretended did not exist. When Avery was a child, the place had seemed magical. Now it felt like a museum dedicated to a family that no longer lived there.

A lamp burned in the sitting room.

Vanessa Bennett sat beneath it, immaculate in a silk robe, a porcelain cup balanced between two fingers. Her stepmother had never needed a clock to know when Avery came home late. Disapproval was her most reliable talent.

“How thoughtful of you to join us.”

Avery dropped her bag near the door. “It's two in the morning. Who is 'us'?”

“Your family. Or what remains of it.”

Avery had learned long ago that responding to every insult only made the evening longer.

“Good night, Vanessa.”

“You're getting married on Friday.”

Avery stopped.

She turned slowly. “I'm sorry?”

“To Adrian Blackwood. The arrangements have been made.”

There were moments in life when words became so ridiculous that the brain refused to process them. Avery waited for Vanessa to smile, to admit this was some elaborate attempt at humiliation.

She didn't.

“I'm not getting married,” Avery said.

“Your father approved the match.”

“My father approved nothing. He barely came downstairs today.”

“His health has been fragile, as you're well aware. This is a business decision. One that may keep Bennett Construction solvent.”

Avery folded her arms. “Then sell a building. Don't sell me.”

Vanessa's smile was thin. “I expected you to be difficult.”

“Good. We can skip the surprised part.”

She took a step toward the stairs.

“It's about Ethan.”

Avery went still.

Her older brother had been unconscious for eleven months. Before the attack, he'd worked as a federal investigator and been the kind of person who remembered her exams better than she did. Now he lay in a private clinic outside Zurich, thousands of miles from home, while Vanessa controlled every update the family received.

Avery had begged for a direct call with his doctors. Twice, she'd booked flights. Twice, Vanessa had found a reason the visit couldn't happen.

“What about him?” Avery asked.

“His current rehabilitation arrangement is up for renewal. The clinic is expensive.”

“Dad's trust pays for his care.”

“The trust is under review. You know the company's position.”

Avery felt cold spread through her chest.

Vanessa set her cup down. “Adrian Blackwood has offered financing that would solve several of our problems. Ethan's treatment can continue without interruption. Your father's creditors can be satisfied. But the agreement depends on the marriage.”

“You're threatening my brother to get me to marry a stranger.”

“I'm explaining the consequences of your decisions.”

“It's the same thing.”

Vanessa's expression sharpened. “Then be smart enough to choose correctly.”

For the first time that night, Avery thought of her brother's hospital room, the blank silence on the other end of every call, the way her father refused to meet her eyes whenever she mentioned Zurich.

“Why me?” she asked. “Why not Yvonne?”

Her stepsister was older, eager for a society wedding, and capable of discussing diamonds for hours without once mentioning the person wearing them.

“Because Blackwood asked for you.”

That was worse.

“Has he even met me?”

“Apparently he knows enough.”

Avery looked at the family photographs on the mantel. One showed her mother laughing in the garden with Ethan on one side and Avery on the other. Their mother had been dead for years, yet Avery still sometimes imagined she'd return to explain how a home could become hostile without anyone physically changing the locks.

“I want proof that Ethan is safe,” Avery said. “A video call with his doctor. A direct number. Copies of the financial arrangements.”

Vanessa considered her for a moment.

“Agree to the marriage, and I'll arrange them.”

“No. I see him first.”

“You have until noon tomorrow to decide.”

Avery hated the answer that formed in her mind. She hated even more that Vanessa already knew what it would be.

Before she went upstairs, she said, “If you think a wedding ring will make me obedient, you're about to be disappointed.”

Vanessa lifted her teacup.

“I think Mr. Blackwood enjoys a challenge.”

In her bedroom, Avery locked the door and searched the name Adrian Blackwood.

Photographs filled her screen. Awards. Acquisitions. Headlines about ruthless takeovers and the spectacular rise of Blackwood Holdings. In every image, the man looked composed, unsmiling, almost impossible to read.

Dark hair. Sharp features. A gaze that made the camera seem intrusive.

There was something disturbingly familiar about his face.

But the room on the yacht had been too dark for her to know.

At 3:04 a.m., an email appeared in her inbox.

FROM: BLACKWOOD HOLDINGS, EXECUTIVE OFFICE

SUBJECT: PRIVATE APPOINTMENT

Miss Bennett,

Mr. Blackwood would like to meet you personally before any agreement is finalized.

Tomorrow. Eight p.m. The Halcyon, Manhattan.

Avery read the message twice.

Then she typed her answer.

I have questions. He'd better have answers.