Caden's POV
I punch the heavy bag until my knuckles bleed.
Two AM. Can't sleep. Again.
For two weeks, Lennox has been living in my house. Two weeks of playing the perfect couple in public while being strangers in private. Two weeks of watching her try so hard to be invisible—eating meals in her room, avoiding me in hallways, disappearing whenever I'm around.
Two weeks of slowly going insane.
The journalist's accusations at the gala haunt me. Psychiatric facility. Mental breakdown. Marcus's "evidence" of Lennox being unstable and dangerous.
I had my investigator look into it. The records are real. Lennox was admitted to a private mental health facility in New York six months ago. Stayed for three weeks. The official reason: severe anxiety and depression following emotional trauma.
But that's all I could find. The rest is sealed. Protected. Hidden.
Just like everything else about Lennox Gray.
I slam my fist into the bag again. The pain feels good. Real. Better than the constant ache in my chest every time I see her.
She's breaking. I can see it. Every day she gets quieter, smaller, more like a ghost haunting my mansion. Victoria's been spreading rumors around town. Marcus has been sending messages—I've seen Lennox's hands shake when she checks her phone. The pressure is crushing her.
Good, I tell myself. She deserves to hurt.
But I don't believe it anymore.
I'm landing another punch when I hear it.
Crying.
Soft, broken, trying desperately to be silent.
I freeze, fist against the bag, and listen. It's coming from the corner of my home gym—the spot behind the rowing machine where the lighting is dim.
Lennox is here.
In my private space. At two in the morning. Crying like her heart is shattering.
Every instinct screams at me to leave. To maintain the distance that keeps us both safe. To stick to the contract.
Instead, I walk toward her.
She's sitting on the floor, back against the wall, knees pulled to her chest. Her phone glows in her hands, illuminating tears streaming down her face. She's wearing an old T-shirt and shorts—pajamas that have seen better days. Her hair falls around her shoulders in messy waves.
She looks sixteen again. Vulnerable. Lost. Exactly how she looked the night her parents died and I held her while she fell apart.
"Lennox," I say quietly.
She jumps, her phone clattering to the floor. "Caden! I'm sorry—I couldn't sleep and I thought—I'll leave—"
"What happened?" I crouch down beside her, ignoring her scramble to hide. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm not—" Her voice cracks. "I'm fine."
"You're a terrible liar." I pick up her phone from the floor.
"Don't!" She reaches for it, but I'm faster.
The screen shows her messages. Dozens of them. All from Marcus.
"You think hiding behind Rivers will save you? I'm coming for you, Lennox."
"Drop the lawsuit or I'll release the hospital footage. Everyone will see what you really are."
"Two more days. Then I go public with everything. The breakdown. The suicide attempt. All of it."
Suicide attempt?
My blood runs cold.
"Give it back," Lennox whispers, fresh tears falling. "Please."
I don't give it back. I block Marcus's number. Then I scroll through and find Victoria's messages—equally vicious. I block her too.
"You should have told me," I say, my voice rough.
"Told you what? That my ex-fiancé is trying to destroy me? That your ex-fiancée wants me dead? That I'm so broken I can't even function without falling apart?" Her laugh is bitter. "That's not in the contract, Caden. You hired a fake girlfriend, not a charity case."
Something inside me snaps.
I pull Lennox into my arms.
She goes rigid with shock. For three seconds she doesn't move, doesn't breathe. Then she collapses against my chest and sobs.
Real, ugly, painful sobs that shake her entire body.
I hold her tighter. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure she can feel it. This wasn't in the contract. This breaks every rule I set. I should let go. I should walk away.
I can't.
"I've got you," I hear myself whisper into her hair. "No one touches you while you're mine."
The words surprise me. While you're mine. Like she actually belongs to me. Like this is real.
Lennox pulls back slightly, looking up at me with red, swollen eyes. "Why do you care?" Her voice is broken. "You hate me."
Do I?
I've told myself I hate her for ten years. Built an empire on that hate. Used it to fuel every success, every ruthless business decision, every cold morning I woke up alone.
But sitting here with her in my arms, feeling her heart race against mine, I realize the truth.
"I should hate you," I admit, my jaw clenching. "God knows I've tried."
"Then why—"
"Because apparently I'm an idiot who never learned how to stop." The confession tears out of me before I can stop it. "Ten years, Lennox. Ten years of trying to forget you. Women, work, money—nothing worked. You're like a disease I can't cure."
Her eyes go wide. "Caden—"
"Don't." I cup her face, my thumb brushing away tears. "Don't say anything. Don't apologize. Don't make this harder than it already is."
Our faces are inches apart. I can see gold flecks in her brown eyes—details I memorized a decade ago and never forgot. Her lips are slightly parted. Her breath comes in short gasps.
I could kiss her. Should kiss her. Want to kiss her so badly it hurts.
But that would change everything.
The moment stretches—dangerous, electric, impossible to sustain. My control hangs by a thread.
Then my phone buzzes in my pocket, shattering the spell.
I force myself to let go of Lennox and step back. My hands shake. My heart races. I feel like I just ran a marathon.
"Get some sleep," I say, my voice rough. "We have brunch with my investors tomorrow. I need you presentable."
The cruel words taste like ash in my mouth. I watch hurt flash across Lennox's face. Watch her shut down. Watch the walls go back up.
"Of course," she says quietly, standing. "Wouldn't want to embarrass your investment."
She walks past me toward the door. I let her go because staying is too dangerous.
At the doorway, she pauses. "Caden?"
"What?"
"Thank you. For blocking the numbers. For..." She trails off. "Just thank you."
Then she's gone.
I stand alone in my gym, staring at my bleeding knuckles, my control in shambles.
I pull out my phone to check the message that interrupted us.
It's from my private investigator, Commander Drace. Subject line: URGENT - LENNOX GRAY INVESTIGATION.
I open it.
"Mr. Rivers, I found something you need to see immediately. The psychiatric facility admission wasn't voluntary—Lennox was committed against her will by Marcus Chen using falsified documents. He had her declared mentally incompetent to gain control of her assets and photography rights. The 'breakdown' was staged. I have proof. But there's more—and it's worse than we thought. Marcus didn't work alone. Someone in Willowbrook helped him. Someone with access to Lennox's personal information. Someone who's been feeding him intelligence for months. I'm sending encrypted files to your secure email. Review them tonight. We need to talk first thing in the morning. This goes deeper than a bitter ex-boyfriend. This is conspiracy. —Drace"
My blood turns to ice.
Someone in Willowbrook helped Marcus destroy Lennox?
Someone I know? Someone I trust?
I open my encrypted email with shaking hands. Three files download. Police reports. Hospital records. Bank statements.
And photographs.
The first photo shows Marcus meeting with someone in a coffee shop. The angle is bad, but I can make out a woman's silhouette. Blonde hair. Expensive clothes.
The second photo is clearer. Marcus and the woman shaking hands across a table. Money being exchanged.
The third photo makes my world explode.
The woman is Victoria.
Victoria Ashford—my ex-fiancée, Willowbrook's golden girl—sitting across from Marcus Chen, counting cash, while a document sits between them on the table.
I zoom in on the document. The heading is clear:
PETITION FOR INVOLUNTARY PSYCHIATRIC COMMITMENT - LENNOX GRAY
Victoria helped Marcus have Lennox locked up.
Victoria paid him to steal Lennox's work and destroy her reputation.
Victoria has been sabotaging Lennox for months—maybe years—to keep her away from Willowbrook. Away from me.
My phone rings. Drace calling.
"Tell me everything," I answer.
"It's bigger than Victoria," Drace says grimly. "The money trail leads to another account. Someone else is funding this entire operation. Someone with deep pockets and a serious grudge. I'm still tracking the source, but Caden—" His voice drops. "Whoever this is has been planning this for a long time. This isn't just about keeping Lennox away. This is about destroying her completely."
"Who?" I demand. "Who hates her that much?"
"I don't know yet. But I will. Give me twenty-four hours."
He hangs up.
I stare at the photos of Victoria and Marcus, rage building in my chest like a wildfire.
All this time, I thought Lennox left because she didn't love me enough.
But what if she was driven away?
What if someone manipulated everything—her leaving, her career destruction, even her return—like pieces on a chessboard?
And what if I've been playing exactly into their hands by treating Lennox like the enemy instead of the victim she really is?
Upstairs, a door closes softly. Lennox going to bed. Alone. Broken. Believing I hate her.
While the real enemy has been hiding in plain sight, pulling strings, destroying lives.
I look down at Victoria's smiling face in the photo, and I realize something terrifying.
If Victoria is willing to have Lennox committed to a psychiatric facility...
What else is she willing to do to keep us apart?
And how far will she go to win?