The room went very still.
Amelia stared at the man in the doorway. Her mind raced through possibilities, explanations, anything that would make this make sense.
None came.
"No," she said.
Ethan didn't react. He simply stood there, hands in his pockets, as if he had all the time in the world.
"Amelia—" her father started.
"No." She turned to face him, the contract still in her hand. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to sell me off to a stranger without even asking."
"It's already done."
"I don't care."
Her father stood up slowly. His chair scraped against the floor. "You don't understand the situation."
"Then explain it."
Silence.
Ethan moved. Not toward her—toward the window. He stood with his back to the room, looking out at the street, as if the conversation had nothing to do with him.
Her father glanced at Ethan's back, then back at Amelia. His jaw tightened.
"There are people looking for you," he said quietly. "People who will hurt you. This marriage—Ethan—is the only thing keeping you safe."
"From who?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Then I don't believe you."
"Amelia—"
She threw the contract onto the table. "I'm not marrying him. I don't even know him."
"You will."
She laughed. A short, disbelieving sound. "This is insane. You're both insane."
She turned to leave.
Ethan's voice stopped her.
"You saw me last night."
Amelia froze.
"Outside your window," he continued, still not looking at her. "You were frightened. You locked the window and didn't sleep."
She turned slowly. "How do you know that?"
Now he looked at her. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but something moved beneath the surface. Something almost gentle.
"Because I was there," he said. "And I've been there every night for the past three weeks."
The air left Amelia's lungs.
"You've been watching me?"
"Protecting you."
"Same thing."
"It's not."
He walked toward her. Slowly. The same way he had walked across the street last night. Deliberate. Unhurried.
Amelia held her ground, but her heart was pounding.
"There's a difference," Ethan said, stopping a few feet away. "Watching means observing. Protecting means intervening. And I will intervene, Amelia. Whether you want me to or not."
"That sounds like a threat."
"It's a promise."
They stood there, inches apart, neither willing to look away first.
Her father cleared his throat. "The wedding is in three days."
Amelia didn't move her gaze from Ethan's face. "And if I refuse?"
Ethan's expression didn't change. "Then you'll be dead within a week."
He said it so calmly. So certainly.
And somehow, that was the most terrifying thing of all.