I feel numb as the news about my youngest sister sinks in.

Adoption…Jasmine…they’re trying to stop you from getting her back…

I fumble for a response to my lawyer, especially as Owen stands in the doorway like a lofty, expressionless statue.

My lawyer continues. “Juliet, are you still there?”

“Yes,” I whisper, glancing away from Owen, who’s looking even stonier by the second.

“I’m sorry this isn’t the news you wanted to hear,” my lawyer says. “But we’ll do all we can tomorrow to defend your position at the courthouse.”

He doesn’t sound very confident at all, and worry strings through me, brittle and shaky.

He goes on. “There’ll be an emergency hearing in family court. I’ll text you the time and location presently, but you should plan to be there early.”

It takes me another moment to fit all the pieces into a blurry puzzle image: I have to get home. Then to the courthouse. Defend my position so I can keep my little sister…

It all comes together in a blaringly clear picture: I’ll need to go back to Florida, away from Owen so I can keep my family intact.

When I look up at him in the doorway again, he’s gone, and that only adds to my pain.

“Juliet?” my lawyer asks.

“I’ll be there, Mr. Salazar.”

I have to be, and as I dully thank him for his help, then disconnect our call, I give myself another minute to stay seated. I don’t think I can even walk a straight line right now, because I’m either about to burst into tears or crumble all the way to the floor.

Dear god, I’m really in a fix. If I tell Owen I need to leave him, even for a day, he just might consider me in breach of contract and cancel on me, leaving me without the money I so sorely need to reunite my family. But if I were to stay here instead, I might as well be telling the authorities that I don’t care about my little sister.

Even as I sit here between a rock and a hard place, there really isn’t any choice.

I take a deep breath and stand. Somehow I make my way out of the den.

I find Owen at the foot of the grand staircase conversing in low tones with Nat, who nods to me and then hustles away as I approach. Before he turns to me, he coldly folds his hands behind his back, then faces me. He towers over me, leveling me with that impassive gaze.

To think, only minutes ago he was almost smiling as he came into the den, and the loss of what could have been wracks me.

“I’m sorry,” I simply say.

“For being on a personal call when I unexpectedly walked into a room? I only thought to give you privacy by walking out.”

He knows as well as I do there’s more to it than that, but I’m not one to argue. The shock of the bad news is starting to wear off of me, and stress is taking its place, tearing me apart and leaving a trembling sensation in my chest.

I manage to speak. “I’m actually sorry because I have to go home immediately to deal with a family emergency, Owen.”

Instinctively I close my eyes so I won’t see his anger. But when I don’t hear him say anything I open my eyes.

He’s tilting his head as if reading me. “All right, Juliet.”

I stare at him. Did he just say it’s all right?

I can’t be hearing him correctly.

Then he nods, as if the conversation is casually winding itself up. “I don’t want to know the details. Just tell me when I can expect you back.”

Relief nearly brings on the tears, but then I remember that this next chapter of my nightmarish story is only just starting, because I still have a hearing for Jasmine tomorrow.

God, tomorrow I could lose my sister…

I struggle to remain calm as everything catches up with me again. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. It depends.”

“On what?”

“You told me you don’t want to know the details.”

He clearly doesn’t want this wishy-washiness from me either, but what else can I do? Force the details on him when he just emphasized that he won’t tolerate that?

Once again, I feel backed into a corner, this time by Owen’s rules. But my sister is at stake here, and anger and frustration take hold of me, making me do something I wouldn’t normally do.

“If you want me to save time,” I say, “would you consider letting me use your private jet so I can leave right away?”

My boldness astounds even me. His gaze is the only thing that reveals how taken off guard he is. Otherwise he’s the same, granite-cool Dr. Owen Gregory.

After another fraught moment, he sighs impatiently. “Whatever you need, Juliet. I’ll make arrangements.”

Part of me nearly runs to him to throw myself into his arms, but I can tell he doesn’t like any of this at all. This is messy. This is fucking up his carefully planned existence. But as he turns away from me to ascend the stairs, I think I see a flash of concern in his eyes.

Then it’s taken over by something like self-disgust.

I don’t have time to wonder if I’m wrong about any of that.

With my heart plowing through me, I let Owen go up the stairs alone, then track down Nat. After I fill her in on all the details about the court hearing, she rushes to me, hugging me.

I allow myself to lean my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes and remembering how Mom used to hold me.

Before I can make a total fool out of myself by bursting into sobs, I tell her I’ll see her soon, and I can only hope that’s true as I take the elevator to my room. I pack the most conservative, classy clothing I have so that I’ll make a good impression on the court, then hurry downstairs.

There’s a town car already waiting for me outside with one of Owen’s drivers at my service. And then we’re off to his jet.

As the Gold Coast’s leafy, high-class streets pass by my window, I shrink into my seat. There’s nothing I can do about the hearing tomorrow, so all the emotions I just shoved aside about Owen start to attack me now.

I’ve never felt so alone. My god, this man I’m spending every single night with doesn’t even want to know what’s happening to me. We’ve been so physically intimate, but at the end of the day, Owen only cares about himself, his needs, and his own pleasure. Sure he loaned me his jet, but it’s only because he wants me back for more sex as soon as I can manage it.

Now more than ever, I’m sure that I’m not a real person to him. He proved today that he doesn’t ever want to be even mildly inconvenienced by my real life and my very real problems.

My chest hurts, and I grasp the silk material of my dress over my heart, but it doesn’t do any good. I hurt so badly. Everything hurts, even though Owen has always been up front about how he wants this arrangement to go.

Unfortunately, my stupid heart never got the memo. Now more than ever, I can’t avoid admitting that I have feelings for him beyond just physical lust.

God, I wish I didn’t.

* * *

As I sit down at the table facing the judge the next morning, I smooth out my tasteful dark gray suit that I brought from my closet back at the mansion. Back at my unassuming hotel, I fixed my hair into a low bun so I look older, and I barely put on any makeup. I want to look responsible, mature, and modest, but as the wan lights in the room pierce me like a spotlight, I feel like an inexperienced kid who’s only doing her best.

The court officials enter the room, and I sit up in my chair, smiling at them with a confidence I don’t feel.

My lawyer isn’t here yet, and things are about to start.

Subtly, I open my purse and access my phone, glancing at the time. Nine o’clock on the dot.

Where is he?

I feel sweat emerging under my arms and prickling my forehead. My pulse jitters even before Mr. and Mrs. Terry, Jasmine’s foster parents, enter the room with their attorney and sit across from me.

They won’t look at me. I know they’re nice people, but what they’re doing feels like a betrayal. They know how much I love my little sister, know what we went through with the hurricane and the loss of our parents, and how traumatized we all were and how much we need one another.

Why are they doing this?

I want to ask them, but then the judge comes in, and my throat seizes up. Panic shakes me. All I have to do is calm down and wait for my lawyer to get here.

“Are we ready to begin?” the judge asks.

I clear my throat. “Your honor, my attorney isn’t here yet. May I call him?”

The judge is a man with a ruddy face, reminding me of an apple that’s been baked too long. He glances at his watch. “Miss Hope, I’ve got a full day.”

“If I could just call him, see where he is…”

The judge is staring at me, and just as I think he’s going to ask how I can handle four younger siblings if I can’t even choose the right lawyer, the door to the room opens.

I cross my fingers that it’s my attorney, but it isn’t.

It’s the last person I expected to see here, much less the last one I thought gave a crap about my personal issues.

Owen fixes his gaze on me as he heads toward the seats in back of my table. I gape at him and the team of lawyers flanking him.

My lawyer rushes in just behind and leans down to speak to me. “This is crazy, but apparently someone is willing to throw a lot of money behind your case now. Do you want me to step aside as counsel and let this team take over your case?”

What the…?

“I don’t know,” I reply.

My lawyer sighs. “Look, normally I wouldn’t suggest it. But he’s brought the best attorneys in the goddamn country here with him. I’d be negligent if I told you to keep me on in this situation.”

“Okay,” I say, my heart racing now for a million different reasons. “Okay, let’s do it.”

As Owen’s lead attorney and my old attorney approach the judge to explain the change in counsel, Owen stops by me to whisper in my ear.

“You’ve now got the best representation in the country—maybe even the world.”

I look into his gaze, and what I see there moves me. It’s as if he’s here because he wouldn’t be anywhere else, because he’d rather be protecting me.