"I should've known," she says. "I should've—"
"You couldn't have stopped this." I cross to her, then crouch so we're eye level. "He was always going to come after you. The only question was how fast."
Her eyes shine. "So what do I do?"
"You let me fix it."
She stares at me, searching for proof that I'm not lying.
"You can't go back," I say. "You can't hide alone. He'll find you."
She swallows hard. "I know."
"Your father escalated to boots on the ground tonight. That's the most dangerous phase. As long as you stay legally tied to him, you're traceable. Every system you touch becomes a leash. Bank accounts. Credit cards. Your nursing license. Your social security number. All of it leads to him."
"So what do I do?" she asks again, voice cracking.
I lean in. The words stall in my throat. Then the need to lock this down wins.
"You marry me."
Her mouth falls open. The sound that escapes is sharp and disbelieving. "What?"
"You marry me," I repeat. "Take my last name. Everything tied to Mercer breaks. He loses the leash."
She shakes her head before I've finished. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough."
Anger cuts through fear. "You want to fix this with a ring? You think I can just—" She's already refusing. "I can't do that to you. I can't trap you in my mess."
"This isn't romance," I say. "It's paperwork and protection."
She's breathing too fast, fingers clutching the sheets. "Knox, that's… crazy."
"It's necessary."
"No," she breathes. "No, I-I can't do that to you."
I tilt my head. "Do what to me?"
"Trap you," she says. "Tie you to my mess. Make you responsible for saving me. I don't want to owe you my freedom."
A reflex hardens in me, low and instinctive. "I'm not your father." Her stare snaps to mine like a blow. "You don't owe me," I say, voice dropping. "You don't trap me. I choose what I walk into."
She looks as though she might break. "What do you get out of this?" she whispers.
You. The word almost makes it out. I hold her gaze and swallow it down.
"Stability," I say. "You safe. The threat neutralized. The variables controlled."
She won't stop refusing. "It's too much."
"It's the cleanest cut," I counter. "The only one that sticks. He just went public. That article? That's him mobilizing. Law enforcement, private investigators, every connection he has. Aslong as you're legally tied to him, the systems they touch will lead them here."
Tears threaten. "Then what? I become your wife and just… disappear?"
"You become Sloane Turner," I correct. "And you get to live."