Chapter 6

Kane stood with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tailored trousers, looking down at Cailin.

"As a jewelry designer," Kane stated coldly, his voice echoing in the quiet room, "you will design your own wedding set. I expect the sketches on my desk by tomorrow."

Cailin was taken aback. Her head snapped up. "Tomorrow? The wedding is in two weeks. That is far too soon to finish a custom set of that magnitude. The casting alone-"

"Sterling Capital does not accept excuses," Kane cut her off, his tone slicing through her argument like a blade. "Make it happen."

He took a slow breath, his eyes darkening. He then dropped a heavier bomb. "And you will pack your things. You are moving into my penthouse tonight."

Cailin's eyes widened in pure shock. The air rushed out of her lungs. She stammers, taking a step back on the pedestal. "Tonight? No, we agreed on next week. After the rehearsal dinner."

Kane stepped forward, immediately closing the distance she had tried to create. His towering frame cast a dark, oppressive shadow over her.

"The media requires us to be seen cohabitating immediately," Kane dictated, his voice leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. "The stock price relies on the image of a stable, unified front."

Cailin shook her head rapidly, feeling completely cornered and panicked. Her chest heaved against the tight bodice of the dress.

"I can't," she tried to argue, her voice rising in desperation. "I haven't packed anything. My studio is too busy, I have client orders to finish before the wedding, I-"

Kane suddenly turned his head sharply away from her. He raised a clenched fist to his mouth.

He was seized by a harsh, dry, suppressed cough, followed by a faint, almost inaudible wheeze as he fought for breath. His broad shoulders tensed violently with the effort of holding it in.

Cailin stopped mid-sentence. She blinked, watching the sudden, jarring change in his physical demeanor.

Kane cleared his throat roughly. When he turned back to her, his face was slightly paler, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, but his dark eyes remained incredibly fierce and demanding.

The harsh sound of that cough triggered a deeply buried, terrifying memory in Cailin's mind.

She flashed back to ten years ago. She was sixteen, standing in the dark hallway of the Sloan estate. She remembered seeing a teenage Kane Sterling, backed into a corner, gasping desperately for air, his face pale and twisted in rage. When he realized she was watching him, he had given her a look so ruthless, so full of dark, violent promise, that she had run away crying.

The memory sent a fresh, icy wave of primal fear crashing down her spine.

Cailin realized in that moment that arguing with Kane Sterling was not just futile. It was dangerous. He was a man who would destroy anything that stood in his way.

She lowered her head, her fingers gripping the heavy lace of the dress skirt until her joints ached.

"Fine," she whispered in a defeated, broken voice. "I'll move in tonight."

Kane's chest heaved slightly, his breathing still a bit ragged, but he nodded. He looked deeply satisfied with her total submission.

He turned to Ms. Price. "Send the bill to my office."

Without another word, and without a single glance back at Cailin, Kane turned on his heel.

He strode out of the boutique, his long legs eating up the distance. He pushed the heavy glass doors open and disappeared into the rainy New York afternoon.

The door chimed again as it closed behind him, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.

Cailin's knees buckled slightly. The adrenaline that had been keeping her upright suddenly drained from her body, leaving her weak and shaking.

Sienna rushed forward, catching Cailin's arm to steady her before she fell off the pedestal.

Cailin looked at her friend, her eyes wide and hollow. "I need to get to my studio immediately. I have to design that jewelry."

She turned back to the dressing room, desperate to strip off the suffocating gown that felt like a burial shroud.