Lacey's eyes were wild, a calculating madness swimming in them. She looked at Ariel, a sick, triumphant smile twisting her lips.

"She's trying to ruin us, Garrick!" Lacey wailed, her voice trembling with fake fear. "She won't stop until she destroys our baby!"

Garrick, already rattled by the recording, turned his anger back on Ariel, his face twisting in rage.

But before he could speak, Lacey moved.

She lunged toward Ariel, not to attack, but to create chaos. Ariel instinctively sidestepped, her knee knocking hard against the sharp edge of the vanity table in her haste to dodge, and Lacey, as if stumbling, slammed into the side table. The silver pot teetered for a moment before crashing to the floor.

A wave of scalding, dark liquid splashed out, soaking the expensive rug and splattering across Lacey's outstretched forearm.

Lacey let out a piercing, agonizing scream. The skin on her forearm instantly turned an angry, blistering red.

Ariel stood frozen, her eyes wide. She hadn't expected this level of insanity.

Tears streamed down Lacey's face. She pointed a shaking finger at Ariel. "Garrick! She pushed me! She tried to hurt our baby! I tried to get away and she shoved me into the table..."

It was a flawless, sickening performance.

Garrick looked at Lacey's burned arm, then at Ariel. The evidence was right there. The red arm, the spilled coffee, the crying pregnant woman. In his mind, Ariel was the jealous, barren ex-wife. Of course she would snap.

The rage that took over Garrick's face was animalistic. "Ariel Melton!" he roared, lunging forward. "You crazy bitch!"

"I didn't touch her!" Ariel shouted, backing up against the wall. "She did it to herself!"

But Garrick wasn't listening. He was blind with fury, his hand raised, ready to strike her.

Ariel squeezed her eyes shut. In three years of marriage, he had never hit her. But now, for this woman, he was going to. She braced for the impact, her body tensing.

The slap never came.

Instead, the room echoed with a sickening thud and a sharp gasp of pain.

Ariel opened her eyes.

A man in a black suit stood between her and Garrick. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and completely silent. He hadn't appeared out of nowhere. The sound of the scream had been his signal. Hearing it from the bottom of the stairs, he had ascended in seconds, moving through the unlatched front door and up the staircase with silent, lethal efficiency.

His hand-large, calloused, and immovable-was wrapped around Garrick's wrist, stopping the slap mid-air.

K. Holloway.

Garrick was struggling, his face contorted with pain as Holloway's grip tightened. He tried to yank his arm away, but it was like trying to move a steel beam.

"Let me go!" Garrick snarled. "This is my house!"

Holloway's face was completely devoid of emotion. He looked at Garrick the way one might look at an insect.

"Mr. Tillman," Holloway said, his voice quiet but carrying the weight of a death sentence. "Does not allow anyone to touch a hair on her head."

Garrick froze. The name hit him like a bucket of ice water.

"Holloway?" Garrick's voice cracked, the rage replaced by panic. "What are you doing here? This is family business!"

Holloway didn't answer. He simply adjusted his grip on Garrick's wrist.

A sharp, wet crack echoed through the dressing room.

Garrick let out a high-pitched scream, dropping to his knees. His wrist hung at an unnatural angle, the joint visibly dislocated.

Lacey shrieked, scrambling backward, her burned arm cradled against her chest. She stared at Holloway in horror.

Ariel gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She knew Holloway was efficient, but this was brutal, instantaneous violence.

Holloway released Garrick, letting him collapse onto the floor, clutching his swollen wrist. Holloway didn't even glance at the whimpering man. He calmly straightened his cuffs, adjusting the white silk so it was perfectly aligned.

Then, he turned to Ariel.

He dipped his chin, his posture shifting from lethal soldier to respectful servant. It was a bow of absolute deference.

"Miss Melton," Holloway said, his voice smooth and respectful. "I apologize for the delay. Are you alright?"

Miss Melton. Not Mrs. Tillman. Not Garrick's wife.

Garrick, through gritted teeth and tears of pain, glared up at them. "Holloway! Are you insane? You break my arm, and then you bow to her? She's nothing! She's my discarded trash!"

Lacey chimed in, her voice shrill. "She's just a broke, useless ex-wife! You're going to lose your job over this!"

Holloway slowly turned his head to look at them. His eyes were flat, dead, and colder than the Arctic. It was a look that promised violence if they spoke another word.

Garrick and Lacey fell silent, the fear choking their words.

Holloway looked back at Ariel. "The car is waiting, Miss Melton. Mr. Tillman has asked me to bring you home."

Home. The word hung in the air, heavy with implication.

Garrick's face went pale. "Home? What home? She's homeless! She's a beggar!"

Lacey's mind raced, her eyes narrowing as she pieced together a twisted explanation. "Oh my god," she sneered, a cruel smile returning to her face. "Garrick, don't you see? She went straight to your uncle. She sold herself to him. That's why he's protecting her. She's his whore."

The idea made sense to Garrick. It was the only thing that made sense. Ariel, the desperate, infertile woman, had traded her body for a roof over her head.

Jealousy, pride, and disgust warred on Garrick's face. "You scheming bitch," he spat. "You seduced my uncle? You're disgusting!"

Holloway watched them for a moment, a flicker of something that might have been pity crossing his features before it was replaced by cold amusement.

He didn't argue. He didn't explain.

He just looked at them, enunciating each word with surgical precision, and dropped the bomb.

"Mr. Garrick," Holloway said, his voice echoing in the sudden silence. "You are mistaken."

Lacey let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Mistaken? About what? We all know Ariel has nothing else to offer. Why else would a man like Holden Tillman look twice at her?"

Holloway turned his gaze to Lacey. The sheer contempt in his eyes made her laughter die in her throat.

"Miss Melton did not trade anything for Mr. Tillman's protection," Holloway stated, his tone as dry and factual as a legal brief. "She is, in fact, Mr. Tillman's official and sole fiancée."

The words landed like a grenade.

The room went dead silent. Even the rain seemed to stop pounding against the window.

Garrick stared at Holloway, his mouth hanging open, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated shock. The pain in his wrist seemed to be forgotten as his brain short-circuited.

Lacey looked like she had been slapped. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Fiancée? The word echoed in her mind, tearing apart her reality.

Ariel? The woman they had thrown out into the rain? The woman they had called a barren hen? She was going to marry the most powerful man in New York?

"No," Garrick whispered, shaking his head violently. "No, that's impossible. She's nothing. She's a Melton. She's broken. Uncle Holden wouldn't... he wouldn't marry her."

He turned his wild eyes on Ariel, seeing her in a new light-a terrifying one. "What did you do? How did you trick him?"

Holloway ignored Garrick's breakdown. He continued, his voice steady and merciless.

"Therefore," Holloway said, pausing to let the information sink in, "in the eyes of the law and the family, she is now your elder."

He looked down at Garrick, who was still kneeling on the floor. "And your actions just now-raising a hand to her, injuring her-constitute an assault on the family patriarch's fiancée. A direct violation of family protocol."

Each word was a hammer blow, shattering what little composure Garrick had left. He hadn't just attacked his ex-wife. He had attacked Holden Tillman's woman. He had attacked his aunt.

Lacey's face was ashen. The burn on her arm seemed insignificant now compared to the icy dread gripping her heart. Her pregnancy, her position as Garrick's mistress-they were nothing compared to the power of the woman standing in front of her.

She finally understood the bow. She understood the respect.

Holloway turned back to Ariel, inclining his head once more. "Miss Melton, the air in this room is quite foul. May I suggest we leave?"

He paused, his gaze flicking briefly to Garrick and Lacey, ensuring they were listening.

"After all, you are the future mistress of Serenity Estate."

Mistress. The title was a death knell to Lacey's dreams. She wasn't going to be the lady of the house. She was never going to be anything but the woman who slept with a lesser Tillman.

Garrick slumped against the wall, his eyes staring blankly at the floor. His world had just been turned upside down, and he couldn't process it.