Chapter 7

The crisp white paper lay stark against the dark marble bar. The word POSITIVE, printed in bold black ink, seemed to scream in the quiet room.

Jace's eyes dropped to the paper. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. The air in the cigar room turned to lead.

Slowly, he raised his eyes back to Cora's face. His gaze was a physical weight, scraping across her skin, searching for the lie, the tell, the crack in her facade.

Cora held her ground. She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her weight to one hip. She forced her posture to radiate a bored, arrogant confidence she didn't feel.

Jace finally reached out. His long fingers picked up the paper. His eyes scanned the text, stopping on the official seal of Mount Sinai Hospital and the attending physician's signature.

A cold, terrifying smile touched the corners of his mouth. "You think a forged document is going to get you a payout?" His voice was a low, dangerous purr.

Cora let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Your private medical team can draw my blood right now. It takes ten minutes to verify. Call them."

Jace's fingers tightened. The edges of the paper crumpled under his grip. He knew. He looked at her eyes, saw the absolute lack of hesitation, and he knew it was real.

He crushed the paper into a tight ball and hurled it at her chest. It hit her collarbone and bounced onto the Persian rug.

Jace took a step forward, invading her space. The scent of whiskey and raw aggression rolled off him. "If you're pregnant, why didn't you scrape it out? Why come here and sign your own death warrant?"

Cora bent down, her movements deliberately slow. She picked up the crumpled ball of paper, smoothed it out against her thigh, and slipped it back into her purse. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with manufactured greed.

"Because an abortion only gets me a one-time hush-money check," Cora said, pronouncing every word with agonizing clarity. "But giving birth to your child? That makes me the queen mother of the Bauer empire."

The provocation worked. Jace snapped.

His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her jaw like a steel vise. He squeezed, the pressure instantly bruising her skin, forcing her head up.

"I have a hundred ways to make you disappear," Jace hissed, his face inches from hers. His eyes were black with fury. "You and that parasite in your stomach. They won't even find your teeth."

Tears of physical pain pricked the corners of Cora's eyes, but she stretched her lips into a grotesque, triumphant smile.

"Do it," she choked out against his grip. "Kill me. But the moment my heart stops, an automated email goes out to every major news outlet in New York. And to your grandfather."

Jace's grip froze.

"I did my homework, Jace," Cora whispered, her voice trembling slightly from the pain in her jaw. "I know the old man is holding the last twenty percent of the family trust hostage until you produce a legitimate heir. It's the only reason Axel thinks he still has a shot at your throne. If your grandfather finds out you murdered his only great-grandchild... you lose the empire."

She had hit the kill switch.

Jace's pupils contracted. The blind rage in his eyes fractured, replaced by the cold, calculating gears of a Wall Street predator assessing a catastrophic loss. He stared at her, seeing her not as a cheap whore anymore, but as a highly dangerous, highly volatile explosive device placed directly under his chair.

He opened his hand. He let her go.

Cora stumbled back a step, rubbing her throbbing jaw. She took a deep, shaky breath, tasting victory mixed with copper.

"Marry me," Cora repeated, her voice steadying. "You need a legitimate heir to force the board's hand and secure the trust. I need power and money. It's a transaction."

Jace turned his back to her. He walked to the bar, picked up the bottle of whiskey, and poured another glass. He didn't drink it. He just stared at the amber liquid.

When he finally spoke, his voice was completely devoid of emotion. It was the voice of a machine.

"You better pray to whatever god you believe in that this child is born healthy," Jace said, turning his head slightly to look at her over his shoulder. "Because the second it's out of your body, your usefulness ends. And you will suffer."

It was a yes. A terrifying, conditional yes.

Cora suppressed the violent shudder that threatened to tear through her body. She lifted her chin.

"I look forward to our wedding, Mr. Bauer."

She turned on her heel and walked toward the heavy wooden door. She grabbed the brass handle, turned it, and stepped out into the freezing hallway.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Cora leaned her back against the wall. Her legs gave out completely. She slid down the wall until she hit the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her face in her arms, and gasped for air. She was covered in a cold sweat. She had just made a deal with the devil, and she knew he was going to make her pay in blood.