THE SPACE BETWEEN US.

An Anchor in the Mist

CARTER

The city blurred past the window, gray and gold under the early morning light, and none of it registered. Not the traffic, not my phone buzzing with three unread emails from the board, nothing. Just her text, still open on my screen. I'm ready. Yes.

I'd loved Mia Vance since I was seventeen years old, sitting in the back of a chemistry class watching her sketch jewelry designs in the margins of her notebook instead of taking notes. That kind of thing doesn't fade just because an ocean gets put between two people. I told myself it had, for three years I told myself that, and then Deb called me with a voice full of fear and Mia's name attached to a mess of forged documents, and every wall I'd built came down in about four seconds.

The contract marriage had been a gift to myself as much as to her, if I was honest. I knew Mia. I knew that if I'd called and said I still loved her, that I wanted her back, that I'd never stopped, she would have hung up out of pride before I finished the sentence. But a contract, a deal, a problem with a clean solution attached to it, that she could accept. That she could survive accepting.

I wasn't proud of the manipulation. I was grateful for it.

"Mr. Montgomery." My assistant's voice crackled through the phone against my ear. "Legal has the injunction filed against Corinne Ashford's transfer of the Eleanor Vance Designs property. We're also opening a formal fraud inquiry into the signature discrepancies Deb flagged."

"Good. How fast can we get a forensic document examiner on the signature itself?"

"Already retained one. Preliminary opinion within seventy two hours."

"Move faster if you can. I want this woman exposed before she has time to bury more evidence."

"Understood. And the marriage filing, sir?"

"Have the documents ready when I get to the airport. I'm not walking Mia into an ambush of paperwork she hasn't seen. She reads every line before she signs anything."

"Yes, sir."

I ended the call and looked out at London sliding past, thinking of a girl on the hood of a car who'd said no to me once, and a woman on a plane right now who'd finally said yes, even if it wasn't for the reason I wanted most.

That was fine. I had time to fix that part too.

MIA

The plane touched down so gently I almost didn't feel it, just the shift in engine sound and the pressure easing behind my ears. I stared out the window at a runway slicked with early morning mist, London gray and unfamiliar and somehow already less cruel than the house I'd left behind.

I stepped off the stairs onto the tarmac, my legs unsteady from the flight or the exhaustion or the grief, I couldn't tell anymore. The cold air hit my face and I breathed it in like it might wash something out of me.

Then I saw him.

Carter stood beside a black car parked at the edge of the runway, coat open despite the chill, completely still except for the way his eyes tracked me the entire distance I walked toward him. He looked exactly like what people said about him. Commanding. Untouchable. And underneath all of it, focused entirely, unmistakably, on me.

"Mia." He said my name like it cost him something to keep his voice level.

"Carter."

He didn't hesitate. He closed the distance and pulled me into him, one hand splayed against my back, steady and warm, and for the first time in what felt like months, I let myself lean into someone without bracing for the moment they'd let go.

"You're safe now," he said quietly, against my hair. "I promise you that."

I pulled back enough to look at him. "I need this to be real, Carter. Not just words."

"It's already real." He gestured toward the open car door. "Get in. There's something I need you to see."

Inside, he handed me a folder, thick, official, the marriage contract laid out in careful legal language. My name sat waiting on the signature line, and beneath it, clauses outlining everything he'd promised. Legal representation. Full financial backing. An active fraud investigation already filed against Corinne Ashford.

"You already started," I said, staring at the timestamp on the injunction. "Before I even said yes."

"I had faith you'd get here." He handed me a pen. "But nothing moves without your signature. This has to be your choice, every step of it."

My hand shook slightly as I pressed the pen to the paper. I thought of my mother's studio, locked and stolen. I thought of Julian's back turned toward me, of Trevor's arm around Sienna's waist, of my father's silence in that hallway.

I signed my name.

Carter took the folder from me, his eyes dark and certain. "Corinne is going to regret ever setting foot in that house. Your father is going to regret every silence. And Trevor," his jaw tightened, "Trevor is going to learn exactly what he threw away."

The car began to move, gliding smoothly toward the city, and through the windshield I saw them before Carter said a word. Cameras. A crowd of press already gathered outside the gates of an estate I hadn't even seen yet, flashbulbs catching in the mist like sparks.

"They know," I breathed.

"They know I'm bringing someone home," Carter said, reaching over to take my hand, lacing his fingers through mine with a grip that felt like an anchor and a warning both. "They don't know it's you yet. Not officially."

The car slowed at the gates, and through the glass I watched the cameras swing toward us in a single, hungry motion.

"Ready?" Carter asked, his hand tightening around mine.

I looked at the wall of flashing lights waiting to swallow me whole, and I had no idea how to answer him.