I Marry My Billionaire Boss to Save My Sister novel · Chapter 2 of 32

Chapter 2: Served

Ava races to Lily's apartment as a process server stands at the door. Lily is shaking. Ava shows the contract's protection in front of the server, who withdraws. Dad arrives drunk and tells Ava she's finally earned her keep.

"You said she was safe," I said.

"I said the debt goes where debts go."

"You served her before I signed."

"The notice was filed last week." Damien Kastar's face didn't change. "Service was this morning. It's the contract that stops it."

I didn't wait to hear the rest.

I was already in the elevator with the page crushed in my fist.

Marcus had the car at the curb before I finished crossing the lobby.

"Where to, Ms. Sinclair?"

"Lily's. Avenue B. Please. Fast."

He didn't ask the number.

He drove through the snow like the lights were suggestions.

I called her four times.

It rang out every time.

Her building was a walk-up with a broken buzzer and a bike chained in the hall.

I took the stairs two at a time on legs that had no business moving.

Third floor.

A man stood at her door in a wet tan coat with a clipboard under his arm.

He was knocking the way people knock when they've already decided you're home.

"Lily Sinclair? Lily Sinclair, I know you're in there."

From behind the door came a small sound.

Not a word.

Breathing, fast and shallow.

I knew that breathing.

I'd listened to it in the ER a thousand times.

"Lily, it's me," I called. "It's Ava. Open up."

The lock turned.

She opened the door six inches.

She was in sweatpants and my old college sweatshirt, her hair in a knot.

Her hands were shaking so hard the chain rattled against the frame.

"Ava, he says I owe two million dollars."

"I know. Breathe with me."

"I don't even have two thousand."

"In for four. Hold. Out for six."

She breathed.

Her lips were gray around the edges.

I stepped through the gap and put myself between her and the man.

"Ma'am, I have a notice that has to be personally delivered," he said. "She'll need to sign."

"She won't."

"Then I leave it with her anyway, and the clock runs."

I held out my hand.

"Let me see yours."

He gave me a look, but he passed it over.

I laid the page from the penthouse next to his.

Same case number.

Same seal.

"Read the second paragraph on mine," I said.

He frowned and bent to look.

"Stay of collection," he read slowly. "Effective on execution of the marital services agreement. Executed today, 6:12 a.m., by Ava Sinclair and Damien Kastar."

"That's me."

"This was drafted before..." He stopped.

"It was drafted to bind both of us," I said. "Your notice was served at 5:30. Mine was signed at 6:12. Yours is dead."

I hadn't known any of that when I walked up the stairs.

I had only read it, standing at a glass table with my heart in my throat.

Now I handed his page back.

"Put it in your file. Tell whoever sent you it's stayed."

He looked at the seal again.

Then at Lily, who had stopped shaking enough to watch.

He tucked the clipboard under his arm.

"I'll note it," he said.

He went down the stairs without another word.

I shut the door and turned the lock and leaned on it.

Lily slid down the wall onto the floor.

"Ava, what did you do?"

"I fixed it."

"How?"

"I'll tell you when I've slept."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the one I've got."

She looked at the blood on my cuff.

She put her hand on it.

"You smell like the hospital," she whispered.

"I always smell like the hospital."

I sat down next to her and pulled her head onto my shoulder.

She smelled like coffee grounds and fear.

For a minute, nobody said anything.

Then the stairwell door banged open downstairs.

Heavy feet came up, uneven, one hand dragging along the rail.

I knew that walk too.

Lily's whole body went tight.

"Don't let him in," she said.

"I won't."

But he didn't knock.

He had a key.

The door swung inward, and our father stood on the threshold with snow melting off his shoulders.

Frank Sinclair.

Fifty-eight, unshaven, and smelling of bourbon at seven in the morning.

His coat was buttoned wrong.

He looked at Lily on the floor.

He looked at me.

Then he grinned.

"Look at you two."

"Dad, you gave her a key?" I said.

"I pay for the place."

"You haven't paid for anything in years."

He stepped inside and dropped into the only chair like he owned it.

"Don't start. I just got off the phone."

"With who?"

"Never mind who."

He reached out and patted my cheek.

His hand was damp and warm.

I didn't move.

"Heard you went up to Fifth Avenue this morning," he said.

Lily lifted her head.

"Dad, how did you know that?"

"I know things."

He leaned back, pleased with himself, and looked me over from my wet shoes to my bloody cuff.

"Well," he said. "About time. Twenty-nine years I fed you, and you finally earned your keep."

My mouth went dry.

"Dad."

"Don't look at me like that. It's a good price. Better than I'd have got."

He patted my cheek again, harder.

"Good girl," he said. "Rourke said you'd sell yourself for her."

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