I pulled my wrist back. It wasn't easy.
Darian's grip was firm, but he let go, a look of genuine surprise crossing his face. I didn't let myself look at the red marks his fingers left on my skin. I didn't let myself look at the pen.
Instead, I closed the folder. The heavy leather made a dull thud as it hit the desk.
"Not enough," I said.
The room went so quiet I could hear the rain tapping against the glass a hundred stories up. Xavier actually stepped forward, his eyes wide, but Darian held up a hand to stop him.
Darian leaned back against the edge of his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes scanning me like I was a glitch in a program he'd spent millions to perfect.
"Not enough?" he repeated. The amusement in his voice was sharp. "We are talking about a half-million dollars, Liora. We are talking about clearing a debt that would have seen you in a homeless shelter by Monday. You are in a wet diner uniform, dripping on a rug that costs more than your life. You think you're in a position to negotiate?"
"I think you need me," I said. My heart was a frantic bird hitting the walls of my chest, but I kept my voice flat. "You didn't pick me because I'm a waitress. You picked me because of my father. You picked me because I'm a Hayes. You want this baby to be a trophy. And trophies aren't cheap."
I saw a muscle jump in his jaw. I had hit a nerve.
"The five hundred thousand pays the hospital," I continued, stepping closer to the desk. "It pays the back rent. It buys you the child. But it doesn't protect my mother after I'm locked away in your 'gilded cage.' What happens if she has a relapse while I'm pregnant? What happens if you get bored of paying the bills three months from now?"
"My word is the only contract you need," Darian growled.
"I've spent my life watching people break their word to my father," I said. "I don't trust words. I trust ink."
I pushed the folder back toward him. "I want three more things, or I walk. I don't care if the rain is cold. I've been cold my whole life."
Darian stared at me. He looked like he wanted to snap my neck, but he also looked... fascinated. Like he'd found a diamond in a pile of coal and was annoyed that it was actually hard.
"Speak," he commanded.
"One: A lifetime guarantee of her medical care. Not just this surgery. Everything. For as long as she lives."
Darian nodded once. "Acceptable. Next?"
"Two: A private nurse. Someone who works for her, not for you. Someone who reports to me."
"You won't have a phone to receive reports, Liora. But I will allow the nurse. Third?"
I took a deep breath. This was the big one. "A trust fund. A hundred thousand dollars in an account in her name. Locked. You can't touch it. Xavier can't touch it. It's for her recovery. It's so she never has to worry about a jazz record being thrown in a puddle ever again."
Darian didn't say anything for a long time. He stood up and walked to the window. The city lights reflected in the glass, making him look like a ghost haunted by electricity.
"You're protecting her even after you're gone," he said, his back to me. "You're signing away your life, and you're using your last breath to build a wall around her."
"She's all I have," I said.
He turned around. The smirk was back, but it was different now. Predatory. Dark.
"Fine. I will grant your terms. My lawyers will have the addendum ready in ten minutes. But since you've raised the price, Liora, I am raising the stakes."
He walked toward me until I had to tilt my head back to see him.
"You don't leave the estate," he said, his voice dropping to a low, cold hum. "You don't use a phone I haven't given you. You don't speak to the staff unless it's about your basic needs. You are a ghost to the outside world. As far as anyone knows, Liora Hayes disappeared in the rain tonight. Do you understand?"
"I'm already a ghost," I whispered.
"Not yet," Darian said. He reached out and ran a thumb along my jawline. His skin was warm, a terrifying contrast to the ice in his eyes. "A ghost doesn't feel anything. But you... you're going to feel everything."
He pulled his hand away and looked at Xavier. "Get the legal team on the line. Update the 'Asset Protection' clauses. And tell the hospital the trust fund is being processed."
Darian looked back at me. He looked like he was imagining me already behind the gold bars of his house.
"You have a spine, Liora," he said, his lips twisting into a smirk that made my blood run cold. "I look forward to seeing how long it takes to bend it."
I didn't answer. I just looked at the black folder. I had won the negotiation, but looking at Darian's face, I realized I had just made the trap even stronger.
The lawyers were coming. The ink was being prepared. And somewhere in the city, my mother's heart was starting to beat again, paid for by the girl who was about to vanish.