Chapter 2 IVY MORGAN'S POV

"Why are we just sitting here? Let's go look for her!"

I didn't intend to sound harsh, but his complete stillness was really getting to me. Nicholas's phone sat on the table like a ticking time bomb, yet he hadn't moved an inch.

"Hold on a minute while I get things figured out," he replied.

"Think faster. She's five, right? Five-year-olds don't just disappear without a trace."

"I pay people to handle these things."

"Yeah? Well maybe she ran because you're emotionally unavailable and icy as hell."

His eyes flicked to mine.

"She's a child," I said. "Call your assistant. The nanny. The police. Someone."

He finally stood and pulled out his phone. His voice dropped an octave. Calm. Precise.

"Charlotte. Where was she last seen?"

A pause. His fingers clenched at his side.

"Send me the street address. I'll be there at fifteen."

He hung up.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Central Park. Near the carousel."

"And you're still standing here, why?"

He threw a glance my way and turned on his heel. I followed him without asking.

The car was already there. A slick black SUV with tinted windows and a driver who didn't even flinch when Nicholas snapped out the address.

"You don't have to come," he said to me once we got inside.

"I'm not gonna let you go searching for a missing kid alone. Plus, I still need my daily fix of emotional drama."

He didn't crack a smile.

I turned in my seat. "How does a five-year-old go missing like that?"

"The nanny took her to the park after piano class. She looked away for two seconds."

"And no bodyguards?"

"I like Lena to feel free when she's outside."

I tilted my head "She has a personal chef and two hundred-dollar ballet shoes."

He didn't respond.

"Have you tried calling her?" I asked.

"She doesn't have a phone."

"Then what does she have?"

He hesitated.

"What?"

"A GPS watch. She took it off last week. She said it made her wrist itchy."

I sighed. "Then we find the itchy wrist."

The car stopped. Nicholas was out before the driver could open the door. I jogged to keep up.

Central Park was flooded with people. Tourists. Joggers. Moms with strollers. I looked around the carousel, my eyes darting for any sign of pink or pigtails.

Nicholas was pacing at one corner, making a phone call

My eyes met a woman holiday a clipboard. Park staff.

I jogged over.

"Sorry, Excuse me. Did you see a little girl here today? Five years old. Brown hair. Probably alone?"

The woman frowned. "A man just asked me the same thing. I haven't seen anyone like that."

"Thanks."

I turned back and nearly ran into Nicholas.

"We split up," he said. "You check near the playground. I'll go west toward the boathouse."

"Fine. But if I find her first, I'm charging double for this fake wife gig."

He didn't reply. He just walked off.

I made sure to look at every face as I made my way toward the playground. I was just about to pass the swings when I saw her.

She was sitting alone on a bench, legs swinging

Brown curls. Pink dress. A little dirt on one knee.

"Lena?" I called softly.

She looked up. Her eyes were wide, cautious.

I slowed my steps. "Hey. I'm Ivy. Your dad sent it to me."

"Where is he?"

"He's looking for you. He's scared."

She looked down. "I didn't mean to run. I just... wanted to see the horses again."

"The carousel?"

She nodded.

"You got away from the nanny?"

"I hid at a corner when she was on her phone. I didn't want to get lost. I just didn't want to go back to that big cold house."

I bent down in front of her.

"That's fine. But your dad's really worried. Can I call him?"

She nodded slowly. I took out my phone.

Before I could, a sharp voice interrupted me.

"What do you think you're doing?"

I stood fast. Nicholas was walking up, breathless, furious.

"I found her," I said. "She was sitting right here."

"You let her out of your sight?"

"I just got here. She was already here."

He ignored me and knelt in front of Lena. "You scared me. Do you understand that?"

She looked down again.

"You cannot run off like that. You are not alone in this world. You have responsibilities. To me. To yourself."

She whispered something.

"What is it?" he said, his voice still harsh.

"I miss Mommy."

Silence.

It was like the whole park went quiet. I barely breathed.

Nicholas shut his eyes.

"I understand," he said at last. "I miss her too."

She reached for his hand. He took it gently.

I took a step back, letting them have their moment. My chest hurt in a way I didn't expect.

He picked her up.

"We're going home," he said.

She laid her head on his shoulder.

We walked back to the car in silence.

By the time we got to his penthouse, it was past seven. A housekeeper had left dinner out. Something with roasted vegetables I couldn't pronounce.

Nicholas carried Lena upstairs.

I wandered through the living room. Everything was glass and stone and cold lighting. Like a museum that hated color.

When he came back down, he looked... human. Less marble statue. More exhausted father.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome."

He poured a drink. Something dark and expensive.

"Are you always like this?" I asked.

"Like what?"

"Cold. Closed off. Running on control and caffeine."

He sipped. "You're very bold for someone who just met me."

"You're offering me a hundred grand. Boldness is implied."

He sat on the edge of the couch. "You don't know what you'd be getting into."

"Try me."

"You'd be living here. Full time. You'd be photographed. Watched. Everything you say or do would be examined."

"Sounds like dating in Brooklyn."

He ignored the joke. "There are things I don't talk about. People who would like to see me buried under. You'd be a target."

"Of what?"

"Criticism. Lies. Manipulation."

"Why?"

"Because people want what I have."

"And what do you have?"

He looked at me. Really looked.

"Power. Money. Enemies. And a daughter I will burn the world for."

I swallowed hard.

"I don't want her growing up in a courtroom. I don't want her reading tabloids about her father being broken and alone."

"That's why you need a wife."

"That's why I need you."

I blinked. "You don't even know me."

"I know enough. I've read everything you've published. I know you're honest. Smart. You don't lie easily. You don't scare easily. And you're desperate."

"Wow. You make poverty sound flattering."

"I make truth sound useful."

I crossed my arms. "What happens if I say yes?"

"You move in this weekend. We hold a small engagement party. We make it look real. And then we survive."

"And if I say no?"

"I'll find someone else."

"But not someone you trust."

His mouth curved. "Maybe not."

I took a breath. "And the girl? Does she know this is fake?"

"Not yet."

"And when it ends?"

"We'll say we grew apart."

I sat down across from him.

"This is insane."

"It is."

"But if I do this... I want full control over the story. I want to be more than a photo op."

"You want agency."

"I want to be seen."

He stood. Walked toward me. Slow. Intense.

He stopped a foot away. Looked down at me like he was making a decision.

"You'll get what you want."

"Good. Because I-"

His phone vIbrated again.

He answered with a clipped, "Yes?"

His face changed.

"What do you mean she's here?"

My stomach dropped. I stood slowly.

Nicholas met my eyes.

"My dead wife's sister just showed up at the building. And she's demanding to see Lena."