Chapter 7

Haskell Knight read Alayna's text on his office monitor, a hundred floors above the bustling streets of Manhattan. A small, almost imperceptible curve touched the corner of his mouth before vanishing.

"Sir," Jax's voice came from the doorway. "We've confirmed Caiden Ellis's financials. He has access to a discretionary fund of over two million dollars. His claims of poverty were, as you suspected, a complete fabrication."

Haskell's expression turned to ice. "Keep a watch on him. I don't want him getting anywhere near her or her mother. If he becomes a problem, handle it."

"Of course, sir."

Meanwhile, in Boston, Alayna was helping her mother with a short walk down the hospital corridor. Laura's strength was slowly returning, and with it, her curiosity.

"This man who's helping us," Laura said, her hand resting on Alayna's arm. "This friend. I'd like to meet him. I want to thank him."

Alayna's stomach tightened. "He's... very private, Mom. He prefers to remain anonymous."

"Still," Laura insisted gently. "A man who does something like this... he must be a good man."

Alayna escaped back into the hallway under the pretense of getting water, her heart pounding. She nearly collided with Eleonora, who was arriving with a bouquet of sunflowers so large it obscured her face.

"Whoa there," El said, peering around the petals. "You look like you've seen a ghost." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Or did your mysterious billionaire benefactor just propose?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Alayna snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. "It's a debt, El. A business arrangement. We signed an NDA. That's all."

Just then, her old phone, the one she kept for the sole purpose of dealing with Caiden, started ringing. A video call. His face filled the screen.

She walked to the end of the hall before answering.

He looked terrible. Dark circles under his eyes, his hair a mess. He was clearly in a dark room, a single lamp illuminating his face. A library, he claimed. The performance was laughable.

"Hey," he said, his voice a pathetic imitation of remorse. "I got your email. Look, Alayna, that bill... it's not fair. You can't just add things up like that. It hurts."

She played her part. She let her eyes well up with fake tears. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm just so stressed. My mom... I'm not thinking straight."

He immediately softened, taking the bait. "I get it, babe. I do. But a hundred and fifty grand... I just can't. It's impossible." He paused for dramatic effect. "But I scraped together what I could. I borrowed from a friend."

A notification popped up on her screen. Caiden Ellis has sent you $2,000.

Two thousand dollars. It was the most insulting thing he could have done. It was a pat on the head. A tip for the little poor girl. It was worse than nothing.

She forced a watery, grateful smile. "Caiden. Oh my god. You didn't have to. Thank you. Thank you so much. When this is all over, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

He beamed, his ego visibly inflating. "Anything for you, babe. Just hang in there. And keep me updated."

He blew a kiss at the camera and hung up.

The smile on Alayna's face vanished. A wave of nausea rolled through her. She leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths.

Eleonora had watched the whole exchange from a distance. "I am going to vomit. That was the most disgusting performance I have ever witnessed. And I'm including his."

"It's working," Alayna said, her voice flat. "He thinks I'm still his pathetic little project."

Her new phone vibrated. A text from Haskell.

Are you free this evening? I think we should discuss the terms of our arrangement going forward.

This was it. The bill was coming due.

"I have to go," she told Eleonora. "Can you stay with my mom for a bit?"

She went back to the room and kissed her mother's forehead. "A friend is taking me to dinner. I'll be back late."

"Be careful, honey," Laura said, her eyes full of a mother's intuition. "An act of kindness is one thing. A debt is another. Don't promise more than you can give."

The words echoed in Alayna's mind as she walked out of the hospital into the cool evening air.

The black Maybach was waiting at the curb, a silent, dark promise. She had no idea what she could possibly give a man who had everything. But she knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that he was about to tell her.