Chapter 2

Nine o’clock sharp. Julian was already waiting on the steps outside City Hall.

Wearing a charcoal gray overcoat and holding a paper cup of coffee, he was looking down at his phone.

We hadn't seen each other in seven years. He had grown taller, his shoulders were broader, and his jawline was distinctly sharper.

As I approached, he looked up. His first words were, "Did you eat breakfast?"

"No time to explain. Let's get the license first."

I walked inside, and he followed without asking a single question.

Signatures, fingerprints, the official seal stamped down, and the certificate handed across the counter.

The entire process took less than twenty minutes.

Stepping back outside, I stood on the granite steps and tucked the marriage certificate deep into my bag.

Julian stood beside me, waiting patiently without rushing me.

"My boyfriend, Logan, is running an illegal human trial for his dream girl. I'm their next test subject," I said with eerie calm.

"I needed a legal shield. You're a doctor, and now you're my legal next of kin. Your signature holds weight."

Julian went dead silent for three seconds.

"Come with me. I'll help you pack your things."

I nodded.

Just as he took a step forward, his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing instantly.

"Julian Hayes speaking."

Whoever was on the other end spoke quickly, and his face shifted.

"The chief surgeon had a stroke? When did this happen?"

"Understood. I'm boarding the next flight over."

He hung up and turned to look at me, conflicted.

"A regional hospital has a critically complex coronary bypass case. The primary surgeon just suffered a stroke, and I'm the only one qualified to take over. I have to fly out right now."

I understood completely. A human life hung in the balance.

"Go. I can pack on my own. He’s at work all day anyway. I'll grab my documents and get out."

"Chloe."

He stared intently into my eyes for five seconds.

"Keep your phone on. If anything happens, call me the very second it does."

"I will."

He hurried off.

Standing in front of City Hall, I looked down at the paper marriage certificate inside my bag.

Then, I hailed a cab back to that apartment.

Unlocked the door, slipped off my shoes.

The apartment was completely silent. Logan was at work; the browned apple was gone, the table wiped spotless.

I went straight into the bedroom, opened the closet, and retrieved my passport, Social Security card, bank cards, and college diploma, stuffing them into my tote bag one by one.

Then I went to the study to pull a few essential contracts.

My suitcase lay wide open on the bed, half-packed.

*Click.*

The front door swung open.

My hand froze around my documents, my entire body locking up.

Logan stood in the entryway, holding takeout breakfast bags, steam still rising from the cups.

He looked at me, then at the open suitcase on the bed.

His expression shifted, inch by chilling inch.

"Why are you back?"

I spoke up, trying my best to sound completely normal.

He didn't answer. He set the breakfast on the console table and walked toward me, step by deliberate step.

"Where are you going?"

His tone was unnervingly calm.

Without looking up, I continued shoving my paperwork into my bag.

"We're done. I'm taking what's mine. Do whatever you want with the rest."

He let out a low chuckle.

"Breaking up? Because of Clara?"

"Chloe, be reasonable."

"She's dying of leukemia, and you're her only match. Saving a life is the most noble thing you could ever do. Why are you suddenly—"

"Logan."

I cut him off and met his gaze dead-on.

"You're not saving her. You're experimenting on me."

The room fell dead silent for two seconds.

Logan's expression completely froze.