Chapter 4

A bucket of freezing water hit my face, shocking me awake.

My arms and legs were strapped securely to the iron frame of a cot by heavy leather restraints. Deep purple bruises ringed my wrists.

The walls were stark, peeling white, and the heavy metal door had only a tiny, barred observation window.

The air reeked of harsh bleach mixed with human waste.

The maximum-security psychiatric facility on the outskirts of the city.

The iron door groaned open. Julian walked in, with Chloe tucked securely under his arm.

Chloe had changed into a soft, designer dress, with a neat little butterfly bandage over her temple.

Julian held a folder, stopping two feet from my bed.

*Involuntary Commitment and Long-Term Institutionalization Consent Form.*

He laid the paper flat against my chest.

"You attacked people with a weapon in front of hundreds of colleagues," Julian said, his eyes carefully avoiding mine. "Staying here to receive treatment is the best outcome for everyone."

"Where is Lucas’s body?"

His jaw tightened for a fraction of a second.

"The hospital will handle the arrangements."

I lunged against the restraints, hot tears spilling down my cheeks. "I am his only surviving family member!"

"You are legally incompetent right now," Julian said smoothly, glancing back at the facility director waiting by the door. "As her fiancé and primary emergency contact, I have the legal authority to sign."

I thrashed wildly, the stiff leather tearing the skin on my wrists.

Chloe walked around to the foot of the bed and drove the sharp heel of her designer shoe straight down onto my cast.

The broken bone shifted under the pressure. A wave of sickening agony washed over me, drenching me in cold sweat.

"Save your breath, Clara," she whispered, leaning down.

"Julian’s got it all worked out for you."

"Once you outlive your diagnostic usefulness, your organs—your heart, your corneas—can go toward his research projects. At least you won't die completely useless."

Julian frowned slightly. "Chloe, that’s enough."

I watched him pull an engraved fountain pen from his breast pocket.

It was the graduation gift I had saved up months to buy him, custom-engraved on the cap with our initials.

Four years ago, the very first document he signed with that pen was his official transfer paperwork, promising he was coming home to be with me.

Now, he was using it to sign away the rest of my life.

"Julian."

My throat burned with raw pain.

"Four years. Even if you kept a stray dog for four years, you’d show it more mercy than this."

The tip of his pen hovered millimeters above the paper.

He finally looked me in the eye, a faint, fleeting flicker of guilt crossing his face.

"If you cooperate with the treatment, I’ll make sure they treat you well. And Lucas’s funeral... I can handle it personally—"

"I don’t want your charity," I cut him off.

"Unstrap me right now. And call the police on Chloe for Lucas's murder."

"Do those two things, and I will clear your name about what happened on that stage."

It was the final chance I would ever offer him.

Julian’s fingers tightened around the pen.

Beside him, Chloe clutched her lower stomach with a soft gasp. "Julian... my stomach hurts again."

The guilt vanished from his face. Without another second of hesitation, he scrawled his signature across the bottom of the commitment order.

"The moment you went crazy on that stage, Clara, there was nothing left between us."

The scratch of the pen on paper was almost silent.

Yet to me, it sounded like the snap of every single bond we had built over the last four years.

The facility director stepped forward to stamp the file, but a massive crash rattled the hallway outside.

Before anyone could react, a second heavy blow shattered the reinforced iron door, throwing it inward with a deafening bang.

Harrison Cole stepped through the doorway in a sharp charcoal suit. Behind him stood agents from the Federal Office of Research Integrity and several uniformed marshals.

"Unlawful chemical restraint, falsified psychiatric evaluation, and felony false imprisonment."

Harrison’s gaze locked onto Julian like a predator.

"Julian Vance, once we strip away the skin Clara stitched together for you, what the hell do you actually have left?"

Julian’s expression warped. "This is a private domestic matter!"

"She is an appointed fellow of the National Academy of Sciences and the sole primary investigator on eleven core research patents," Harrison sneered, pulling a red-stamped federal injunction from his leather briefcase and slapping it squarely against Julian’s chest.

The papers scattered across the dirty floor.

Julian took one look at the federal seal, and the color drained completely from his face.