Becoming Mrs. Blackwood

~ LENA ~

Forty-eight hours.

That was how long my sister, Sofia, had left to live.

The doctor's voice wouldn't stop echoing in my head. It had been cold and final, like a sentence already passed.

"Mrs. Martinez-if we don't operate within the next forty-eight hours, her heart may fail. We could lose her."

My chest tightened painfully as I sat on a cold bench just outside the hospital, my fingers clenched together so tightly they ached. Around me, the world continued as if nothing had changed. Nurses rushed past, stretches rolled by, voices rose and fell. But it all sounded distant, muffled.

None of it felt real.

Because somewhere inside the hospital, my eleven-year-old sister was dying.

I swallowed hard as the weight of the doctor's words pressed down on me, squeezing until it hurt to breathe. Sofia had been born with a congenital heart condition that had slowly gotten worse over the years. Now it had reached the point where she needed an urgent surgery to survive. A surgery that cost a fortune we didn't have.

I had tried everything to raise the money. Everything-from loans, to charities, to churches. Even friends I hadn't spoken to in years.

Dead ends. Every single one of them.

Now I sat here asking myself a question I already knew the answer to.

Where, in God's name, were we supposed to find a hundred and eighty thousand dollars for emergency heart surgery?

As a company secretary, I was earning barely enough to keep food on the table and the lights on. My mother cleaned houses for a living, a maid's job with no benefits, no insurance, nothing to fall back on. Together, we barely survived.

But this? This was impossible.

Inside the hospital room earlier, I'd watched my mother collapse into a chair after the doctor delivered the news and walked away. She'd gone pale instantly, and her hands shook uncontrollably.

"I'm just a maid," she'd cried, her voice breaking. "W-where-am I... Where am I going to get that kind of money from?"

I had held her. I had told her everything would be okay, that we'd figure it out.

I had lied because she needed me to be strong. She couldn't see my fear. She couldn't know how close I was to breaking myself.

But out here, alone, I couldn't hold it in anymore. The tears came fast, spilling down my cheeks as my body shook with quiet sobs. I felt so small, so helpless. Trapped. Like the world had finally backed me into a corner with no way out.

Only a miracle could save my sister now. I knew that. So, I prayed. Broken words whispered between my sobs.

"Oh God... Please don't let Sofie die... Please... don't take her away from us."

My mother wasn't going to survive it. I was sure of that.

I didn't know how it would happen, where help would come from. I only knew it had to come. God had to do something.

"Miss Martinez?"

The voice cut through my thoughts so suddenly that I jerked, my heart leaping into my throat. I looked up, wiping my face quickly as I came to my feet.

A man stood a few steps away from me. Tall, well-built, impeccably dressed in a dark Tom Ford trench coat and business suit that looked completely out of place in a public hospital.

Everything about him screamed wealth. Power. Control. From his polished shoes to the calm, assessing look in his eyes. And for reasons I couldn't explain, my heart skipped as he looked at me.

There was a brief glint of something else I caught in his eyes. Something that looked like amazement. But it was quickly masked.

"Yes?" I answered, my voice sounding a bit hoarse.

"Miss Martinez." He met my gaze with a serious expression. "My name is Julian Blackwood. I'd like to have a moment with you, please."

Panic hit me instantly. My heart began racing. I had stepped out of Sofia's room only minutes ago. Had something happened in the few moments I'd been away?

"Wait-a-are you from the doctor? Is something wrong? My sister-" My voice broke. "Is she okay?"

"Relax," he said calmly. "Your sister is fine. She's going to be fine, I assure you."

He sounded certain. Too certain for a stranger.

"Wait-" Confused, I moved a step back. "Who are you again?"

"Julian. Julian Blackwood. We haven't met before."

"But you know me... How do you know my name?"

"Can we talk somewhere quieter?"

I scoffed, impatient. "Look, Mr., I don't know who you are or what you want from me. But as you can see, this isn't a good time, and the last thing I feel like doing at the moment is talking!"

That sounded harsh, but I couldn't help it. My pain and frustrations were eating at me so badly that I just wanted to be left alone to cry in peace.

"I understand."

He didn't flinch at my tone. He didn't look offended. Rather, something like compassion flickered in his eyes as fresh tears slipped down my face.

"I don't mean to be a bother, Lena," he said quietly. "I just want to help."

My eyes snapped back to his at the sound of my first name on his lips. "How do you know my name?"

"I know much more than your name, Lena Martinez," he continued, taking a step closer, but making sure not to come too close. "I know where you live, where you work. I know you're the daughter of Isabella Martinez. Your sister, Sofia-she needs urgent surgery. Surgery that costs a lot of money."

I froze at his revelation, my eyes widening more and more with each fact he stated.

"I can give you the money-all of it."

"What?" Shock barely covered what I felt. At this point, I didn't know whether to be happy or terrified. Just who was this man, and where had he come from?

"I can make sure your sister gets the surgery done immediately. With the best doctors in this hospital."

My mind struggled to catch up with what he was saying.

This didn't make sense. Nothing about this made sense.

"Why?" I asked, confused. "What do you want-in exchange?"

There was no way this was free. Angels didn't wear Tom Ford suits. There was definitely a catch, and it wasn't something I was going to like.

Julian glanced briefly towards the emergency entrance where an ambulance was pulling in, then looked back at me.

"Give me five minutes of your undivided attention. Not here-someplace quiet. If after five minutes you're not interested in my offer, you can walk away."

He paused, letting the words hang in the air as he studied my face, waiting for my answer.

My mind raced, thinking about everything.

Sofia.

Forty-eight hours.

One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.

My throat went dry. "Y-you're sure about this? This isn't a game? You're not messing with me, are you?"

His gaze held mine, unwavering. "Miss Martinez, I didn't come all the way from New York to play games with you. I mean every word I said. Trust me. You could make the right choice now and save your sister's life."

My heart hammered against my chest. Something about him-the certainty, the way he said it-made my mind teeter on the edge of desperation.

I wanted to ask more questions, demand more explanation. But deep down, I knew I didn't have the luxury of doubt or time. Sofia was counting on me. She was counting on her big sister to save her life. And that was all that mattered.

In sudden determination, I took a deep breath, wiped my face and nodded. "Okay."

"Good." Something unreadable flickered in his eyes before he turned, leading the way. "Come with me."

~ LENA ~

Minutes later, I was walking into a small, quiet café just a block away from the hospital. Julian moved ahead of me. He looked around the room once before choosing a table in a cozy, private spot by the window.

He pulled out a chair for me, then took the seat opposite. He looked calm-too calm-nothing like me, whose heart was doing backflips in my chest, tight in anticipation.

"Would you like anything?" he asked as soon as a waitress appeared. "Coffee? Tea?"

"No." I shook my head immediately. The smell of warm pastries in the air was tempting, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since the night before. But hunger felt irrelevant now, trivial compared to the knowledge that my sister was lying on a hospital bed with a heart that could fail at any moment. Food didn't stand a chance against that thought.

He nodded, then pulled out his phone as the waitress left to get the coffee he'd ordered. Unlocking it, he swiped a few times before placing it on the table and sliding it toward me.

I frowned at the image on the screen at first. Then my breath caught, seeing the picture on it.

A woman with my face stared back at me. She had my eyes, my mouth. The same cheekbones, the same jawline. The nose I'd inherited from my mother. Even her complexion was the same.

I was staring at a woman who could have passed for my identical twin. It was like looking into a mirror-except the woman in the photo looked elegant, polished. Like a version of me that belonged in a completely different world.

I jerked back slightly, my heart racing, as if I'd been stung by the picture. Julian watched me closely, his eyes following every expression that crossed my face.

"What is this?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Who is she?"

"That," Julian said calmly, folding his arms casually over his chest, "is Kimberly Hayes. She's my cousin's fiancée. Nathan Blackwood-CEO of Blackwood Industries." He reached over, swiping his finger across the screen until another picture appeared. "That's him."

Nathan Blackwood. I recognized that face instantly. CEO of Blackwood Industries, headquartered in New York. The man was always in the news. His face was plastered all over the business magazines I loved to read. He was tall, like his cousin, Julian-handsome, with the kind of presence that commanded attention, even in a photograph.

And his fiancée-Kimberly-she looked exactly like me. I swiped back to her picture with trembling fingers, my stomach twisting in confusion and disbelief.

"I don't understand." I looked at Julian. My mind was still spinning. "Why are you showing me this?"

The waitress arrived with the coffee. Julian waited until she placed it down and walked away before he spoke again.

"Lena, I need to understand something here. Were you born a twin?"

"What?" I blinked, thrown off completely. "No."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes. I'm sure." I frowned. "I have no other siblings apart from my sister, Sofia. This woman-whoever she is-is a stranger to me."

Julian sighed, his tone conclusive. "Then that leaves only one logical explanation. Kim is your doppelganger."

Doppelganger. A shaky breath left my parted lips. Even that didn't seem enough to explain it. How could two unrelated people be this identical? Too identical.

"You're exactly alike physically," he went on. "Which is why you're perfect for the job I need you to do."

A chill crept down my spine.

"Which is?" I frowned. My heart was racing now. I already knew whatever he was about to say, I wouldn't like it.

"Nathan and Kimberly's wedding is in two weeks. I need you to take Kimberly's place."

"How?" The way he looked and sounded so calm and casual made him look crazy to me.

"By marrying my cousin."

"What?" Now, he definitely was crazy, I thought. "That's insane. You're insane. There's no way-"

"Five million dollars."

The words cut through my protest like a blade. Silence fell.

"Marry my cousin," he continued, his voice calm and steady, like he was discussing something completely normal, "and I'll pay you five million dollars."

For a moment, I wondered if I'd heard him correctly. I stared at him, shocked to my core, unable to breathe, unable to utter a single word.

"Yes, you heard right," he continued, as though he'd heard my thoughts. "One million dollars will be wired to your account upfront. That is-if you agree to this. You could use that money to pay for your sister's surgery and other expenses that may arise later. The rest of the money would be paid to you in instalments-only if you agree to my offer."

I shook my head, finally managing to catch my breath. "I don't understand. Why do you need me to impersonate your cousin's fiancée? You just said they're getting married in two weeks. How am I supposed to take her place?"

Julian didn't answer immediately. He studied me for a moment, his gaze steady, as though measuring how much of the truth I could handle. His fingers curled around his coffee cup, but he didn't drink from it.

"Kimberly isn't getting married to Nate anymore."

My brows drew together. "What?"

"She ended things," he said simply. "Days ago."

The words hit me, but they didn't fully sink in. "Ended things...how?"

Julian reached into his jacket, pulled out a folded envelope and placed it on the table. He didn't push it towards me. He didn't need to.

"She wrote Nate a letter," he said. "Told him she couldn't go through with the wedding. That she wasn't in love with him anymore. That was before she disappeared."

"I'm...I'm sorry. That must have been devastating for your cousin."

"He doesn't know anything yet."

"What?" I stared at Julian, confused. "I don't understand. How could he not know about it?"

"At the moment, he's out of the country on a business trip. I found the letter on his desk at home after he left."

"And you kept it from him?" I asked, disbelief creeping into my voice.

"Yes."

"Why?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "That's his fiancée. He deserves the truth."

Julian's jaw clenched slightly. "If I'd told him, shown him the letter, Nate would have been destroyed."

I frowned. "People get heartbroken all the time. They survive it."

He shook his head once. "Not Nate."

Something about the way he said it made me pause. Like there was more to the story than I knew.

"There was someone before Kimberly," he continued. "A woman he loved deeply-Evelyn Carter." He sighed. "She was everything to him. He loved her... Loved her with every fiber of his being. He planned his entire future around that woman. But then she left him-for another man." He exhaled slowly, in anger. "She had been sleeping with someone else all along."

My breath caught.

"When Nate found out," Julian went on, "he broke. Completely. He had a full emotional collapse. He got sick. The company suffered because he couldn't even step into the office for weeks. It took him months," he said quietly, "months of therapy to get over the pain of Evelyn's betrayal. And when he finally did, he shut himself off completely. Swore he'd never give his heart to any woman again."

"So...what changed?"

"Kimberly," he replied. "She convinced him to try again, to love again. She became his second chance at love."

A heavy silence settled between us.

"And now she broke his heart too," I whispered, shaking my head.

"Now you understand where I'm coming from."

"So you want me to lie to him-to pretend to be his fiancée?"

It was absolutely crazy. Even if anyone could pull it off, it was crazy.

"That's not protecting him. It's deception. And it's going to destroy him even more when the truth comes out eventually."

Julian leaned forward, his expression firm. "Lena, if Nate finds out now, he doesn't just lose his fiancée. He could very well lose his position as CEO of the company."

"How?" I frowned, not following.

"Blackwood Industries is in the middle of a merger with an international company," he explained. "I can't tell you exactly the magnitude of this, but it's massive. We can't afford for anything to go wrong."

My pulse quickened as the weight of it sank in.

"If Nate is seen as emotionally unstable again, the board could force him to step aside-temporarily, or even permanently. Nate has enemies in the company, people waiting for an opportunity like this to get him out. People like our uncle-Victor Blackwood."

I swallowed as a chill ran through me. "So...so this is-"

"This is about survival, Lena-Nate's and the company's."

I shook my head. "But this is insane. You're asking me to lie to a man who's already been destroyed once. What happens when he finds out I'm not her?"

"He won't," Julian said firmly. "Not if we do this properly."

"And Kimberly?" I demanded. "What if she comes back? What if she exposes everything?"

"She won't," he said calmly.

"And how are you so sure?"

There was a slight pause.

"Because she's somewhere far away," he replied calmly. "She wouldn't interfere. I made sure of that."

"How?" My confusion deepened.

"Don't bother yourself about all that." He leaned back, giving me some space, but his next words were quiet and deliberate. "All you should be concerned about is the fact that time is running out-for Sofia."

My breath hitched at the reminder. Julian glanced at his watch, then back at me.

"So, Lena Martinez," he said softly. "What's your answer?"

~ LENA ~

I couldn't sleep at all that night. No matter how many times I closed my eyes, my mind wouldn't turn off.

Each time I began to drift off, Sofia's face flashed before me like a guilty conscience, jolting me awake again.

Forty-eight hours. Forty-eight hours before my sister could lose her life.

Actually, it wasn't up to that anymore. Julian was right. Time was running out. I had to make a decision quickly.

I lay on my back, staring at the wall clock in my room, counting the seconds as they ticked by, counting all the reasons I should walk away from Julian's offer.

Every logical part of me screamed that it was insane-stepping into another woman's life, marrying a man I didn't know, lying on a scale so massive it could destroy me.

Besides being insane, it was dangerous. Illegal.

Prison.

The word made my stomach knot. If this went wrong, I would lose everything-my freedom, my future.

But then I remembered Sofie, her pale face against the white pillow, the beeping machines, the tubes connected to her body as her chest rose and fell weakly. The life was slowly draining out of her.

I remembered her words to me earlier.

"Lena... You'll...take care of Mamá, right?"

She knew she was running out of time.

"Sofie, don't talk like that. You're going to be fine."

She hadn't smiled. She'd only squeezed my fingers weakly, insisting, "Promise me."

To put her mind at ease, I had.

That promise echoed in my head now as I lay awake in the dark, thinking.

I thought of my mother. Isabella Martinez had looked like a ghost in the hospital. A woman worn down by worry and fear. A woman watching her child slip away while having nothing-absolutely nothing-to stop it.

I could still see her trembling hands as she clutched her rosary, still hear the silent sobs she thought no one noticed. Sobs of a mother drowning.

I sat up abruptly.

If Sofia died because I was too afraid to do something, I would never forgive myself.

By morning, the fear had burned itself into hard resolve. I picked up Julian's card, which he'd given me the previous day, and called.

The phone rang only once before he picked.

"I accept," I said before he could speak. "I'll do it. Please, I'll do anything."

There was a brief pause on the other end. Then, "Meet me in an hour. Same café."

He was already there when I arrived. A folder sat neatly on the table between us.

"This is a non-disclosure agreement," he said, sliding it toward me. "In the course of this, you'll be exposed to private matters involving my family," Julian said quietly. "You cannot, under any circumstances, reveal anything about our arrangement or the Blackwood family to anyone. Anything you see or hear stays private. Is that understood?"

Swallowing hard, I nodded. Fear had begun clawing its way back to my heart. As I skimmed the pages of the agreement, it only got worse. The penalties were severe. Threats of swift legal action that Julian restated in words. After which he went ahead to explain everything the contract entailed in precise, clinical detail.

Six months. That was how long I was to be married to his cousin for. Six months of being legally bound to Nathan Blackwood. Six months of living as Kimberly Hayes-taking over her name, her identity, her life.

I was to become Nathan Blackwood's wife in every sense of the world, publicly and privately. I would have to quit my job, move to New York, live under the same roof with him while meeting all social expectations and emotional obligations associated with the role of his wife.

My hands shook as the implications of everything he was saying sank in.

"I'm supposed to be his wife...for real?" I asked quietly, the question sounding ridiculous even to me.

Julian met my flushed gaze without blinking. "In every way that matters."

My pulse pounded in my ears. "And if he wants...intimacy?"

"Then you handle it as Kimberly would."

The thought of that was enough to unnerve me. I didn't let myself think, because if I did, I would flee.

"Pen," I asked Julian, releasing a huge fortifying breath as he handed one over to me from his coat pocket.

With trembling fingers, I signed the document.

Julian nodded with a satisfied look after he inspected it. "You won't regret this, I promise."

Julian kept his word. The money hit my account that same morning. One million dollars. My mouth dropped wide open. My legs turned weak. I had to grab a seat.

I couldn't believe it. But there was no time to waste. I had to pay for the surgery.

The surgery was arranged immediately. The best doctors. The best care. There were no delays.

My mother was both confused and overwhelmed by joy. She insisted on knowing where the money had come from.

I lied to her, told her my boss had offered me a loan from the company, which she believed. I was relieved because there was no other lie that I could think of that would have made sense.

The surgery commenced and lasted for several hours. Mother sat silently beside me, her fingers locked around her rosary so tightly, her lips moving nonstop in whispered prayers.

The hours passed slowly, like punishment. When the doctor finally stepped out and said, "The surgery was successful," something inside both of us broke loose. We turned to each other, hugging and sobbing in relief.

Sofia was going to live.

Nothing else mattered. Not my life, which I had just signed away for the next six months.

Whatever the deal demanded of me, whatever it would cost, Sofia's life was worth it.

"She's okay," I told Julian later in the hospital corridor. "The surgery went well."

He looked pleased. "Good. I'm glad."

"Thank you," I said quietly. "None of this would have been possible without you."

He studied me for a moment, then nodded, as if that part was settled business.

"Now that Sofia's safe, are you ready to fulfill your end of the deal?"

My heart sank. My excitement turned to apprehension.

"Are you ready," he continued, his voice low and firm, "to become Mrs. Blackwood?"

* * *

The drive to New York didn't feel real.

Everything happened so fast. One moment, I was Lena Martinez, sister of a recovering patient in New Jersey.

The next, I was in the back seat of a sleek black Range Rover, heading towards Manhattan like property being delivered.

Julian sat beside me in the chauffeur-driven car, calm and composed as usual.

"Lena, you have nothing to worry about." He'd noticed how tense I was. Anyone could see it just by looking at my face.

I almost laughed.

Nothing to worry about. As if I hadn't just signed away my freedom. As if he hadn't reminded me softly that my mother's undocumented status could easily become a problem if I stepped out of line.

"Your mother seems like a good woman. She's worked very hard to build a quiet life for herself here. It would be a shame if anything disrupted that."

His words had been delivered softly, but they paralyzed me with fear.

Of course, he knew. A man who could wire a million dollars without blinking was a man who knew everything about me, including the right buttons to push.

For the next six months, my life belonged to them. I belonged to Nathan Blackwood.

Before leaving, I had resigned from my job. I told my mother my boss had sent me on an important assignment to New York. That I'd be gone for some months. She believed me.

I felt bad lying to her, but I couldn't imagine the horror on her face if she knew what I'd just signed up for.

At least she wouldn't be alone. Her younger sister, Aunt Celeste, would stay with her through Sofia's recovery. That was the only thought that put my mind at ease.

The rest of the journey passed in a blur. Soon, we were in Manhattan, pulling up in front of a cozy, private little townhouse on the Upper East Side. Julian led me inside.

"Where is this?" I asked him, eyes sweeping over the tastefully furnished living room.

Julian closed the door behind us. "This is Kim's house."

The words landed heavily. At the same time, I noticed the different framed pictures of Kimberly on the walls and shelves. Kim alone. Kim smiling and striking a seductive pose for the camera. Kim standing in front of Nathan Blackwood, his arm around her waist from behind, smiling like a man deeply in love.

"You'll be staying here till the wedding," Julian announced. "You need to familiarize yourself with this space and everything about Kim. To make it easy for you, Dahlia will be assisting."

Before I could ask who Dahlia was, a woman stepped out of the kitchen as if on cue. He introduced her as Dahlia, his trusted Personal Assistant.

"Dahlia is going to assist you with everything you need. She's going to make this whole process easy for you. Listen to her and do everything she tells you."

With that, he left us alone.

Dahlia didn't waste any time after Julian left.

"Come along, Miss Martinez," she said, her voice calm and professional. "We have work to do."

She was all poise and sophistication. Perfectly styled blonde hair, polished nails, and a subtle, expensive perfume trailing after her.

I swallowed hard, trying to calm the storm of nerves twisting in my stomach as I followed her outside to where her sleek car was waiting.

Dahlia drove us straight to a high-end boutique, which, upon entering, I realized had been reserved exclusively for us. Aside from the staff, we were the only two there.

"To become Kim," Dahlia pointed out, "you have to match everything about her, starting with your wardrobe. Kimberly has a very specific style-sleek...elegant...effortlessly glamorous."

I nodded, though inside I was panicking. Sleek and effortlessly glamorous wasn't me.

At Dahlia's request, attendants moved quickly, selecting outfits, lingerie, shoes, handbags, jewelry, everything. Everything was carefully chosen to match Kimberly's signature style. I tried on dress after dress, modeling them before Dahlia for her approval. Every curve-hugging outfit felt alien to my body. Yet, the more I tried them on, the more familiar they began to feel.

Next stop was the beauty salon.

My thick waves were silk-pressed into sleek perfection, a few inches of it trimmed to match Kimberly's exact mid-back length.

My nails were flawlessly done. Makeup sculpted carefully with subtle contour, smoky eyes, and glossy nude lips completing the look.

When I finally looked in the mirror, the face staring back wasn't Lena Martinez. It was Kimberly. My lips parted in shock. The resemblance was frightening.

The only thing that told us apart now was the way I carried myself and Kim's little mannerisms which I had to learn to mimic. Dahlia reminded me that those were just as important as matching her looks.

"Rest," Dahlia said once we got back to the house. It was already getting late. "We'll continue tomorrow."

Thankful, I slipped out of the car, grabbing the shopping bags from the back seat. I was exhausted, and all I wanted was to go to bed.

* * *

The next morning, the knock on the door came just as I finished fastening the zipper of my dress and putting finishing touches to my makeup-Kim's style.

I opened the door to Julian, immediately feeling his gaze sweep over me, slow and assessing, from head to toe.

I was wearing one of the dresses Dahlia had chosen the day before. A casual, dusty rose bandage dress that hugged my body like it was made for me. Being Latina had blessed me with the natural hourglass figure that most women go under the knife to achieve. And it was a shocking coincidence that Kim and I had the same kind of body.

Julian's mouth curved slightly. "Impressive," he said. Then, to Dahlia standing beside him, "You outdid yourself, Dahlia. I can't tell the difference."

I already knew why they were here. And once we settled into the living room, the schooling began.

Dahlia took the lead. She drilled me relentlessly, teaching me how to stand, walk, talk and act in the same graceful, poised manner as Kimberly. Our voices already matched, but every other thing had to be the same to make the transformation believable.

She played short videos of her, showing me who the real Kimberly was and how to impersonate her perfectly. Every little detail, from the tilt of her chin to the way she smiled.

Julian filled in the rest, explaining everything I needed to know.

Kimberly was an influencer. He showed me her social media pages. Her last post had been about two weeks ago, before she left. He told me how Nathan had met her, everything about their relationship.

"Nathan is a man who loves with all his heart," Julian explained. "And when he hates, it's the same."

My breath hitched at that statement. Why did that sound like a warning?

He told me everything about his cousin, all the important things about his life. I soaked up the information like a sponge.

"We're expecting him back in two days. That gives you time."

After they left, the apartment settled into silence once more. I wandered through it slowly, touching furniture, looking at photos. I picked up a framed picture of Nathan, studying his incredibly handsome face with a frown.

How on earth could any woman walk away from a man like this?

While I was still wondering, a sudden knock echoed through the apartment.

Could it be Julian? Had he forgotten something?

I opened the door, and my heart just stopped.

It wasn't Julian. It was Nathan Blackwood.

I didn't get a chance to speak. He pulled me into his arms, crushing me against him as his mouth came down hard on mine with a hunger and urgency that knocked the breath out of me.