Annika stood frozen outside the private room, tray of drinks clutched tight in her hands, like she’d been dropped straight into an ice bath. Revenge? What kind of payback were they plotting in there?

All those rich heirs circled Everest Kennedy like bees around honey, hanging on every word that came out of his mouth like it was gospel.

"Mr. Kennedy, Annika’s the one who messed up Selena’s leg. She can’t dance for three whole months because of her. We can’t just let her get away with this."

"When Selena’s fully healed, we’ll make sure Annika pays."

Selena’s soft voice cut in, sweet as poisoned honey. "Brother, my leg’s fine now. Let’s just forget about revenge. An eye for an eye just leaves the whole world blind, right?"

"Our sweet Selena, you’re too generous," the surrounding heirs chimed in, drowning her in compliments.

"How could Annika be so cruel to hurt our dear Selena?"

"Mr. Kennedy, we can’t just let this slide. They disrespected us. We have to stand our ground."

Annika listened to every accusation spill out from behind the door, and the blood in her veins turned to ice.

Was Everest’s supposed bankruptcy just… a long-planned revenge plot all along?

She peeked through the crack in the door, and saw Everest twirling his wine glass between his fingers, a cold smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I’ll make her suffer a hundred times worse than Selena did."

"Mr. Kennedy, break her will first, wear her body down, then starve her emotionally," one guy suggested.

"Poor Annika, works herself to the bone, won’t even splurge on a cab, just scraping by day to day," another added.

"Is this all just for Selena’s sake, Mr. Kennedy?"

"The first phase of revenge has been running three months already, and it’s almost over," Everest said, his handsome face half-hidden in shadow.

"Selena took three months to heal. I’m gonna make Annika wear herself out for the same three months, and end up with nothing."

"Mr. Kennedy, you’re a genius! This is way more satisfying than just breaking her right away. Is phase two already started?"

"Phase two is cruelty," Everest said, and tossed back the rest of his wine. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed was both mesmerizing and ice-cold. "Make her fall hopelessly in love, get her to give everything she has, then leave her hanging high and dry. Isn’t that cruel enough for you?"

Annika’s face went ash gray, every drop of blood draining right out of it. This was psychological warfare. He’d planned every single bit of this.

When she’d hit rock bottom, he’d stepped in, offered her half a million dollars to keep her dad out of prison. Made her feel indebted to him… and made her fall head over heels in love.

The deeper the love, the more agonizing the heartbreak would be. It was a cruelty far colder than any physical harm he could have done.

Annika couldn’t even remember how she stumbled away. Her mind was completely numb. The mocking laughter from the room bounced around her skull:

"Mr. Kennedy, why don’t you let me seduce her, get her into bed? I guarantee she’ll fall for me in a week."

"Annika was the beauty queen of her class, c’mon. Let me have a shot. I’m a pro at breaking hearts."

Annika pinched her leg so hard it ached, the sharp sting cutting through the fog to remind her this wasn’t some nightmare. Selena had set her up to overhear every ugly word. It had all gone exactly according to her plan.

Everest Kennedy was dead to her now.

When she got home, Annika collapsed feverish onto her bed, like she was burning up from the inside out. In her delirium, she clutched her belly, her muddled mind flooded with memories of Everest from the past three years.

Baby, don’t leave. If you really have to go, I won’t stop you. I won’t make the same mistake again…

A little while later, a limited-edition sports car screeched to a halt out front of her building. Zeke Lee had driven Everest back himself, and couldn’t resist joking about the run-down little apartment.

"Mr. Kennedy, what’s with this whole 'poor regular guy' act? I’m just saying, your girl might actually bolt this time."

"She won’t," Everest said, slinging his coat over one shoulder. His usual cold, aloof expression softened into a lazy smile. "It’s been three years. No point stopping now."

"Your girl’s actually one of a kind, y’know? Nothing like those other gold diggers. When are you gonna introduce her to the crew, anyway?"

"It’s not time yet."

Everest pushed open the car door and stepped out, striding toward the building like he did every night. Then he caught Zeke on the phone.

"Why you rushing me? I’m not back yet. Are you my wife now? Know your place—you’re just a friend."

Hearing the word "wife" made Everest pause. At midnight, Annika always called him. She’d ask if he was working late, tell him to get some rest, remind him to take his stomach medication.

Everest checked his watch and pulled out his phone. The screen lit up the dark, flickering faintly.

It was already one a.M. And Annika hadn’t called. Normally she rambled to him about every little thing that happened during her day, but today? Not a single text on WhatsApp.

Their last conversation was yesterday. Nothing since then.

Everest rubbed his temples with his long fingers. He’d almost forgotten—Annika had asked for a divorce. And she’d blocked his number.

He walked back to the car and reeled off Annika’s number to Zeke.

"Call her for me. Tell her I had too much to drink. Ask her to come down."

"Mr. Kennedy, why don’t you call her yourself?" Zeke’s eyes glinted with amusement. "Did you two have a fight?"

"Just the usual little spat," Everest said, a flicker of awkwardness touching his normally composed face.

Zeke called three times before it finally went through.

"Hey Annika, Everest’s drunk out here. Could you come down and get him?"

On the other end of the line, Annika mumbled, sniffling. "Don’t bother me."

The call cut off sharp, and Zeke couldn’t hide his grin.

"Told you, man. Everybody has a breaking point. She’s put up with three years of this crap. She’s at her wits’ end."

Everest’s face darkened noticeably, and his old stomach problem flared up. He’d been hospitalized once for stomach bleeding. Annika had stayed by his side the whole time, never left once. She’d researched all the best supplements to protect his stomach, never stopped nagging him about his pills.

She even paid the hospital bill out of her own pocket. Never asked him for a single thing in return.

Her constant reminders used to annoy him sometimes, but today… no calls, and he’d completely forgotten to take his medication at all.

In the dim glow of the streetlight, his eyes held a deep, unreadable darkness.

"Call again. Tell her I drank so much I’m bleeding internally."

"Stabbed in the gut? The untouchable Everest Kennedy actually took a hit?" Zeke Lee breathed, disbelieving.

Everest—always the picture of icy control—kept his jaw clamped tight, his face carved from stone.

"C’mon, who is this Annika chick, to make a billionaire playboy like Everest Kennedy go this far?" Zeke chuckled, but his laugh cut off dead when Annika’s phone went straight to voicemail.

Zeke dropped the playful act instantly. Everest got dumped? This mystery woman had to be something else. Any woman that grabbed Everest Kennedy’s attention was already a knockout, but if she’d walked away from him? She had to be ruthless—tougher than any guy he’d ever gone up against.

Zeke, who was used to having people falling all over him, knew heartbreak wasn’t something Everest did. He quickly fumbled for the right thing to say.

"Don’t sweat it, man. You’ll have a dozen women throwing themselves at you before the week’s out. Once she realizes what a catch she threw away? She’ll be sobbing into her pillow."

The temperature around Everest dropped ten degrees. His voice came out tight, frost-edged, one word biting into the air: "Leave."

Annika made it through the night without any pain meds. By dawn, her fever had broken, and against all odds, the baby was fine. Seeing how strong her little one was, she decided to let things unfold as they would.

Her phone buzzed. It was her best friend Rachel, calling.

"Annika, your phone was off forever—I was panicking! Are you okay? Is your husband helping you through this?" Rachel’s voice came, tight with worry.

Annika glanced around her tiny one-bedroom apartment. Everest’s shadow was still everywhere, every little thing twisting her heart up into knots. As they talked, she gathered his toothbrush, his coffee mug, all his shirts and underwear, stuffed them into an old duffel, and tossed the whole thing straight into the trash.

"Rachel, we broke up. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I want him completely gone from my life."

"What? You spent three years supporting that guy, and he dumps you? Annika, you need to add up every cent you spent on him all that time!" Rachel fumed.

"I did. I owe him half a million dollars."

"What? You wasted three years on him, and *you* owe *him* half a million? What a total scumbag!"

Rachel was on a work break, just calling to check in, and this dropped on her like a bomb. Annika had always kept her husband’s identity secret. Even Rachel, her ride-or-die best friend, only knew she had a man she adored, not what asshole broke her heart.

"Half a million is insane! Normal people don’t have that kind of money laying around. I could literally strangle that jerk. Did he dump you because he cheated?" Rachel’s anger burned hot through the phone; the betrayal stung her like it was her own.

Annika lifted her eyes from her phone, and her heart stopped dead.

Everest Kennedy was leaning in her doorway, all six and a half feet of him, casual and imposing, his ice-cold stare locked dead on her phone.

His deep dark eyes gave nothing away, but the intimidating aura rolling off him screamed don’t come near me.

Rachel fumbled to end the call immediately, already stammering out apologies.

"Mr. Kennedy, I… I didn’t mean to say all that. I’m so sorry."

No one knew why Everest had come back to this old building last night, but his presence had everyone walking on eggshells. Rachel had gotten so caught up raging at Annika’s ex that she’d forgotten herself, let her mouth run too loud.

"Heartless jerk?" Everest repeated. He didn’t even sound angry—there was a faint, amused quirk at the corner of his mouth.

"Sounds like someone worked herself to the bone for a deadbeat boyfriend, then got tossed aside, huh?"

Everest’s thoughts drifted to an evening a while back, when a waitress had muttered the exact same thing about a "worthless boyfriend," teeth clenched so hard they almost cracked.

He remembered her clear as day.

"Wait… Mr. Kennedy, you remember us?" Rachel’s surprise blew into full-blown shock.

Her anger flared right back up thinking about what Annika went through, and she couldn’t stop the words from pouring out.

"My friend wasted three whole years on a leech! She worked herself till she dropped, spent every last dime on him. She couldn’t even afford a five-dollar coffee for herself, but when he asked? She bought him imported cake, got him stupid expensive gifts. And then he had the nerve to cheat on her!"

"And she’s an amazing dancer! He held her back from chasing her dream this whole time!"

Everest’s brow twitched just barely. Rachel’s constant, high-pitched rant was damn irritating. Normally he would have shut her up ten sentences ago, but today? He was weirdly hooked on the story of that stubborn waitress and her useless boyfriend.

"She should be out chasing her dream, not wasting away with a freeloader. What a shameless creep."

Rachel stamped her foot in frustration. "That asshole got off way too easy. Revenge is a dish best served cold. Justice will win out, even if it takes time."

Right that second, Everest’s ear started itching. Like someone somewhere was talking about him.

Just then, Mario walked over.

"Mr. Kennedy, did you sleep well last night?"

Mario asked because he’d noticed Everest had been coming to this old building more and more often—from once or twice a week, to almost every single night now.

Last night, Everest had shown up alone.

Mario wondered if maybe Mr. Kennedy had found some comfort here, with his wife and child, that helped him sleep better.

But the dark circles under Everest’s eyes told a different story.

"Mr. Kennedy, would you like me to call Dr. Marshall to prescribe something to help you sleep?"

A flicker of discomfort crossed over Everest’s sharp, chiseled features.

"The world doesn’t stop turning just because one person’s gone. It’s not an issue."

He turned to Mario, then jerked his chin toward Rachel.

"Give your friend’s number to my assistant. If she needs money and she can dance, we’ve got a spot for her at the rooftop venue. Pay’s way better than waiting tables."

"The rooftop?" Rachel knew exactly what that place was—it was for the elite, the exclusive playground for rich and powerful men, something even wealthy heirs couldn’t just get into. It was all glitz and excess, a world away from anything she’d ever known.

Straight shooter that she was, Rachel held up her hands and shook her head.

"Thanks, Mr. Kennedy, but my friend wouldn’t lower herself to that. If she wanted fame, she would’ve gone into Hollywood years ago. When a famous director tried to take advantage of her? She smashed a bottle over his head. That’s why she’s waiting tables now."

Mario thought Rachel was out of her mind, turning down an offer from Everest Kennedy. Not just anyone gets to dance on that rooftop. Why was Everest even giving this random waitress a shot?

Seeing Everest didn’t look annoyed, Mario patiently explained to Rachel: "The rooftop hires professional dancers, you get paid for your talent. Lead dancers pull in thousands a show."

"Thousands? Per performance?" Rachel’s eyes went wide.

Damn. Poverty really does shrink your world. Standing on her feet all day serving tables barely got her a few hundred. And people make thousands just for dancing?

"My friend really is incredible. I’ve been working part-time waiting tables just to help us get by, that dance job would be perfect, it’s such a waste for her to rot here. If she gets on that rooftop stage and shows everyone what she’s got? Who knows, she’ll catch the eye of someone important, and that deadbeat ex will be green with envy."

Rachel got it instantly, and practically shoved Annika’s number into Mario’s hand.

"Please, Mr. Wallace, help my friend get that spot in the rooftop dance troupe. Thank you so much—seriously."

“Sure thing, Mr. Kennedy,” Mario Wallace replied, scribbling the phone number into his notebook before pulling the office door shut. He made damn sure no one—not even that nosy, relentless Hannah—would burst in and disturb Everest Kennedy.

Everest caught sight of the black garbage bag Mario clutched, jarringly out of place against his perfectly tailored suit. With a dry, sarcastic quip, he joked, “What’s this? A new designer bag made from actual trash? That the hot new trend these days?”

Mario’s face flushed crimson, words tumbling over each other. “Mr. Kennedy, this garbage bag is actually—” He hesitated, clearing his throat. “It’s something I picked up next to the trash bin on our floor. These… these are your things, sir.”

He pulled the bag open to reveal Everest’s toothbrush, toothpaste, casual clothes—shirts, a sweater, a coat, all things Annika Price had bought him. Hell, there were even a few unopened boxes of condoms at the bottom.

Everest’s eyes went dark, his jaw clenching so hard his molars ached. “What the hell is this? Why are all my things in the trash?”

It clicked before Mario could even open his mouth. “She really threw all my stuff out?”

It wasn’t just his belongings she’d tossed. She’d scrubbed him right out of her life. A cold, sharp disdain flickered across Everest’s face. “Fine. She gets what she wants. We’re done. None of this shit matters anymore.”

Mario asked quietly, “Mr. Kennedy, what would you like me to do with all this?”

Everest tossed aside his expensive silk pajama top and pulled a dress shirt on in one smooth motion. Within seconds, he was immaculately dressed, that signature aura of authority and power rolling off him in waves.

“There’s no space in this world for a washed-up Everest Kennedy. Don’t come sniveling to me later if you mess it up.”

The hotel manager stepped in with a lavish spread of breakfast, only to be met with Everest’s sharp, biting criticism. “We host A-list, influential guests here, and this is the best you can do? A chef on a million-dollar salary can’t even cook half as good as my wife?”

Mario muttered under his breath, “Mr. Kennedy’s just being stubborn. Still calls her ‘wife’ even after they split.”

The manager was one wrong move away from tears. How could this go wrong? The chef was a world-renowned talent, poached from one of the most elite restaurants in Europe. The whole team had been prepping since four a.m. the second they heard it was for Mr. Kennedy.

He ventured gently, “Mr. Kennedy, maybe you’re just used to Mrs. Kennedy’s cooking, right? It’s your personal favorite.”

Everest’s spoon hung frozen over his plate, no appetite left at all. His mind drifted unbidden back to the memory of Annika pressing a thermos into his hands every single morning.

*“Everest, drink this while it’s still warm at the office. I added extra chicken and rice to the soup this time—it’s so good.”*

She’d picked out the best chicken from the local market, seasoned it slow, prepped it by hand. It wasn’t cheap, so she’d only bought enough for him.

Everest tried to shake the memory loose, his sharp handsome features clouding over. Why was he even pretending this didn’t get to him?

He told the manager to have the chef make something light on the stomach, reminded his secretary to bug him about taking his medication, and called the doctor in for a new prescription of something to take the edge off. At the end of the day, the world doesn’t stop spinning for anyone.

Break things off with one Annika Price? There were a hundred other women waiting in line. No big deal.

Mario reported in, “Mr. Kennedy, the international corp looking to expand domestically—Mr. Shaw just got back into town and wants to meet tonight to hash it out. They’re dying to lock in a partnership with Kennedy Enterprises.”

Everest glanced indifferently at his dead-silent phone, and tossed off the order casually: “Have Sixth Brother handle it.”

Mario blinked in surprise. Everest, the biggest workaholic this side of the country, was checking out? All because of Annika? Waiting around for her to call and beg to make up? Yeah, that didn’t sound like him.

He worked up the nerve to speak up: “Mr. Kennedy, Annika put her whole life on hold for you for three whole years, and you took such good care of her. How can it end like this? Sometimes a little fight’s just her way of getting you to pay attention. Maybe you should pick up some flowers or a nice gift to cheer her up. Women love that stuff, right?”

Everest didn’t answer. He just flipped his phone face-down on the table, like he was refusing to let it hold any more of his attention.

A couple minutes later, he asked, “What’d she do today?”

“Mrs. Kennedy got dressed up sharp and headed out. Looked like she was going to a job interview.”

Everest’s expression hardened instantly. “Who asked about her? I was asking what Selena’s up to today.”

Mario awkwardly bit his tongue. He knew damn well Everest meant Annika, but he played along anyway. “Miss Selena’s probably still sleeping off her jet lag from the trip, sir.”

“Tell the office to make arrangements,” Everest ordered, heading back toward his private room. He left Mario standing there, scratching his head over the mess.

Arrangements for what? Reschedule the meeting with Mr. Shaw for tonight? Or send Annika a gift to win her back? Oh jeez, Mr. Kennedy is impossible to read right now.

Mario had always prided himself on knowing exactly what Everest wanted, never having to ask clarifying questions. But this? This was pushing him to his limit.

He decided to cover all his bases, prep for both. After all, Everest hadn’t gotten Annika a single proper gift in three whole years. She’d probably be over the moon to get flowers from him.

This wasn’t just some fling that could get brushed off. And of course, that billion-dollar project still needed to be handled too.

Mario didn’t waste any time dialing Annika’s number…

As Everest neared the elevator, his phone rang out of the blue. He paused, turned back toward the room, just in time to hear Mario faking a florist’s voice over the line.

“Hello, Miss Price? This is Rose & Bloom Floral. Mr. Kennedy ordered a gorgeous bouquet for you. Are you available right now? Where would you like us to deliver it?”

Everest hesitated, his hand still hovering over the elevator call button. He leaned back against the doorframe, holding his breath, desperate to hear what Annika would say back.