"I won't marry a blind man!" Kiara slammed the parlor door so hard a frame of portraits shuddered. "Kiara—" Evelyn Mitchell rose from the sofa like she was made of spine and demand. "Do not be dramatic." "Do not be dramatic?" Kiara laughed without humor. "You signed me up to be bait. You sold me." "Sold?" Mr. Mitchell spread his hands as if explaining arithmetic to a child. "We trade one daughter for ten percent of Carey Group and one hundred million dollars. That's a clear return." "You actually said the numbers out loud," Kiara snapped. "You're auctioning my life." "We are negotiating our future," Evelyn cut in. "Listen: one Mitchell daughter marries into Carey, our family gets ten percent equity and one hundred million in cash. Fifty million up front, fifty million on closing. Luciano Carey will be a political ally. The press will love the alliance." "Press will love humiliation." Kiara leaned against the door, breathing fast. "Luciano's blind. People will pity him. People will pity me. This is not an alliance. It's a trap." "Your face will change in a year when you own apartments in three cities," Mr. Mitchell said. "You'll stop calling it a trap." "You're treating me like a property ledger," Kiara hissed. "Was that the plan all along, Mom? Sell me to the highest bidder?" Evelyn's eyes narrowed. "We are not selling you. We are investing. Don't moralize wealth." "Investing," Kiara repeated, disgust plain