nt of New York's City Hall. The driver opened

ing stone building. She took a breath. This was

marriage bureau. She

o her, looking out a tall window.

iver of a Patek Philippe Calatrava peeked from beneath his cuff. Despite the wheelchair

steps

more presence than she expected. And he

h, he turned the wh

f a frozen lake, assessed her w

gazes

e tension. "Miss Beaumont. I'm Zane Foster, Mr. Sharpe's a

mall counter. Throughout the entire process, she and Julia

ou are now legally married," a wave of absurdity washed ove

ession as flat as if he were re

lence, Zane pushing Julia

pacious, but the atmosphere was suffocating. Chloe and Julian sat on

from her bag-the perfect prop for an uneducated delinquent. She leaned back, using the mindless ban

k up from his copy of

corpio. You're... let me guess. A Capricorn?

flickered to her in the rearvie

corpio and Virgo. Astrologically catastrophic! The book says we'll tortur

blue eyes met hers, cool and analytical. His vo

r marriage won't b

. Chloe read the warning in his eyes an

sure of it,

ng a sprawling estate. The main house was a grand

followed them inside. The interior was opul

their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosit

gement this evening," a woman who looked like the head h

She didn't care. It save

Sharpe," Zane said. "I'll show y

emote wing of the estate. The scene here was a s

pped in h

vet drapes. There were no smart lights, no ambient screens, no digital pulse-only a hea

remained perfectly calm, as if t

n door. "Mrs. Sharpe, this is

he single, solitary bed