Chapter 3 Iris's POV

Silence between us, thick and heavy. I stared at Malcolm Slade, certain I'd gotten it wrong.

My head had to have gone on the fritz. Because there was no way, no way at all he'd actually proposed to me. For ten million dollars.

My heart thudded in my ears, my throat dry with caked-on grit, like I'd eaten sand. "You're joking," I pushed out, my whispery voice breaking.

He didn't blink. Didn't stir. Sat there, blade-skinny, with a kind of presence that seemed to keep a person from being able to catch a breath.

"Do I look like some sort of joke to you?"

No. No, he did not. I let a shaky breath slide out, my mind struggling to find sense. "Marry you?"

"Yes."

"For ten million dollars?"

His gaze was as unbending as his voice. "For six months."

A laugh-like scalding erupted from inside my chest, but it was more of a nervous collapse than actual laughter.

"That's absurd. This is a test, isn't it? A joke? Some kind of twisted game?"

Malcolm inched closer, slow and deliberate, his movements calculated like a predator creeping up on its quarry. "Is it?"

I tore my eyes from him, looking around the room for reasons that weren't present. The city's muted hum outside.

The faint scent of whiskey on the air. The dark-stained shelves crowded with expensive bottles, drinks I couldn't even pronounce. Everything felt unreal.

"I don't get it," I said, shaking my head. "Why me? You could have any woman. Hell, women probably line up just for the chance to breathe the same air as you."

His lips curled, not quite a smirk, not quite anything. "You don't need to understand. You just need to say yes."

A spike of irritation churned in my gut. "As a matter of fact, I do need to know. You're throwing life-changing cash at me, and I'm just supposed to... take it? No questions asked?"

Malcolm exhaled a sudden breath, as if I was pushing him. "I need a wife. You need money. It's simple."

Simple. Please. Because involving myself with a man such as him, one who radiated danger, power, and something much worse was never simple.

I exhaled a breath. "There are a hundred women who would die for this."

"There are." He shrugged. "But I don't want them."

I shivered. I needed to get out of here. Now. I rose from my seat, but no sooner was I standing than Malcolm did as well.

He didn't rush, he didn't need to. His rising was enough to make the room feel tighter and the air thinner.

I moved back instinctively. He kept coming, deliberate, deliberate, until my lower back hit the edge of his desk. I caught my breath.

He placed his hands on either side of me, not on me, but holding me in place.

"Still afraid of me, Iris?" His voice was low and silky.

I swallowed hard. "No." A lie.

His eyes deepened. "Don't lie to me. I hate it when people lie to me."

My heart thudded in my chest. I should have been afraid. I should have flung my bag over my shoulder, stormed out of here, and never come back.

But I didn't. Because beneath the fear, beneath the cold sweat on my skin, was something else. Something I did not dare to name.

Malcolm's eyes flashed to my mouth, then above. "You can leave if you wish to."

I sucked in a quick breath. So why didn't I think I could? I sidestepped him, my shoulder accidentally bumping his in the motion.

Fire sparked in my stomach. I ignored it, fumbling to grasp the doorknob with trembling fingers.

"Think about it," Malcolm whispered against my back. "Ten million dollars, Iris. That is not want. That is opportunity."

My breath caught. I pushed the door open and strode into the corridor, slapping it behind me.

I just kept moving. Kept walking. My legs were shaking, but I didn't stop until I arrived in the dressing room, clutching the edges of the sink as if that was the only thing holding me up.

Ten million dollars. Not desperation. Opportunity. I closed my eyes, trying to push the vortex of thoughts away. What if he was right?

That kind of money could change my life. Fix my knee. Give me a fresh start. Maybe even bring back the dream I'd lost.

I inhaled deeply and straightened, grabbing my purse. My shift was over anyway. I needed to call Isabella.

I nearly ran out of Bliss of Seduction, ignoring Lura's screams behind me. I didn't ease up until I was blocks from there, gasping for breath.

When I reached my apartment complex, the adrenaline had been burned off in my system, leaving me exhausted.

The streets were nearly empty, the streetlights casting long, ominous shadows. This wasn't the kind of neighborhood you loitered in after dark.

I inserted my key into the lock and entered, banging the door shut behind me. I leaned against the wood there for a second, forehead, trying to calm my breathing.

I needed to get out of here. Not this apartment. This life. But how?

I barely managed to scrape together enough to survive. Isabella had offered me a place to stay more times than I could remember, but pride wouldn't let me.

I didn't want to be a charity case for anyone. I took off my shoes and stepped into the shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the weight of tonight.

It didn't. No matter how hard I scrubbed, Malcolm's words refused to be washed away.

Marry me. I shivered, and I wasn't sure if it was from the water or otherwise.

I dried off and rummaged through the kitchen for food, but all I could find was a stale sandwich. I sighed and sat with it on the couch and huddled around it, phone in my hand.

I called Isabella without thinking.

She picked up on the second ring. "Hey, babe! What's up?"

Her voice was sunny and bright. A clashing discord from the whirlpool in my head.

I stopped. "Isa..."

A pause. Then, quickly bitter, "Iris? What's the matter?"

I swallowed. How did I ever start this?

"It's Malcolm."

There was silence. Then, a ragged breath. "Malcolm?" Her voice turned icy. "What did he do? If he hurt you, I swear to God, I'll kill him-"

"Issa!" I stopped her before she'd gone fully into assassination mode. To my shock, a tiny smile struggled to escape my lips.

"Then what?" she demanded.

I breathed slowly. "Something happened tonight. At the club".

I laid it all out. The staring. The summoning to his office. His ridiculous offer.

When I finished, she didn't say a word.

Then finally-"Iris, what the actual fuck?"

"Yeah. That pretty much sums it up."

Isabella made a strangled noise. "And you're going to do it?"

I pinched my nose. "I don't know. But, Isa, ten million dollars. I could rebuild my knee. Start again."

"Absolutely not." Her voice was firm. "If you need money, I'll help you. You don't have to do that."

I clenched my teeth. "Isa, I can't take from you all the time."

A thick silence. Then, softer, "So what are you going to do?"

I hesitated. "I don't know. I just... I needed to talk to someone."

She breathed deeply. "Alright. Think about it. But, Iris?"

"Yes?"

"No amount of money is worth your life."

I swallowed hard. If only it were that simple. We exchanged our goodnights, and I curled under my blanket. But sleep was not easy.

Because no matter how much I tried to tell myself this was just a business deal...

I knew the truth.

I was about to make a deal with the devil himself. And I didn't know if I'd survive.