Elfrieda Stewart POV

Three days later, Jaxon tried to buy my forgiveness.

He arrived at my parents' house, where I had sought refuge, in a sleek black town car with a chauffeur.

"We're going shopping," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Get in."

He didn't ask about my burns.

He didn't ask about my arm.

He simply assumed that, as always, I would fall in line and do exactly what I was told.

I got in the car.

Not because I forgave him.

But because I intended to bleed him dry before I made my escape.

We were driven to the Diamond District.

He ushered me into the most exclusive boutique in the city.

"Pick whatever you want," he said, waving his hand expansively. "Anything to make you smile again, El."

I noticed a sheen of perspiration on his brow.

The Boss must have been asking difficult questions about the gala.

He needed me happy. He desperately needed the optics.

I pointed to a diamond necklace displayed under the glass.

It was delicate, shaped like a single, frozen teardrop.

"That one," I said.

The jeweler took it out.

Jaxon pulled out his black card.

Then, the door chimes announced an arrival.

Janice walked in.

Of course she did.

She wasn't stalking us; he had been feeding her our location.

She walked straight up to the counter, ignoring me completely.

"Oh, Jaxon," she cooed. "It's beautiful."

She reached out and snatched the necklace from the jeweler's hand.

"Try it on me," she commanded.

Jaxon froze.

His gaze darted to me.

Then back to her.

This was the test.

"Janice, that's for Elfrieda," he said, his voice weak.

"But I like it," Janice pouted. "And it's my birthday next week. Don't you love me?"

She held the diamonds to her throat.

She looked at him with that manipulative, heavy-lidded gaze that she knew he couldn't resist.

Jaxon swallowed hard.

He turned to me.

"El," he said, forcing a smile. "You don't really like diamonds, right? You've always preferred pearls. They're more... innocent."

I stared at him, my expression unreadable.

"Give her the necklace," I said.

Jaxon let out a breath of relief.

"Wrap it up," he told the jeweler. "For the lady in white."

He bought me a pair of pearl earrings as a consolation prize.

Cheap ones.

We walked out of the store.

Janice was wearing the diamonds, preening in the reflection of the window.

Jaxon tried to take my hand.

I pulled away sharply.

"I have to go," I said.

"Where?"

"To sell these," I said, holding up the bag with the pearls.

"What?"

"And the car you bought me," I continued, my voice steady. "And the dresses. And the furniture in the penthouse."

"You can't do that," Jaxon laughed nervously. "That's my money."

"It was a gift," I said. "Gifts are property."

I hailed a passing taxi.

I went straight to a high-end pawn shop.

I sold everything I had on me.

Every token of affection, every lie he had ever wrapped in a bow.

I walked out with a check for fifty thousand dollars.

I went back to my parents' house.

I retreated to my room and pulled a letter out from under my mattress.

It was an acceptance letter to the Royal Academy of Music in Oslo, Norway.

I had deferred it for three years.

Because Jaxon said he couldn't live without me.

Because Jaxon said Chicago was my home.

I opened my laptop.

I sent an email to the admissions office.

*I accept.*

My phone rang.

It was Jaxon.

"My lawyer drafted a pre-nup," he said, skipping the hello. "Just standard stuff. To protect the family assets. I'm coming over to have you sign it."

"Don't bother," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not signing a pre-nup, Jaxon."

"You have to," he growled, his patience evaporating. "Or there's no wedding."

I looked at the Norwegian stamp on the envelope.

"Exactly," I said.

I hung up.

I blocked his number.

But I knew it wasn't over.

Men like Jaxon Tate didn't let their property walk away.

They destroyed it first.

Elfrieda Stewart POV

The water was black.

Not the velvet black that promises sleep. It was the abyssal black that promised only death.

Jaxon had insisted on this yacht trip.

"A peace offering," he had called it, his eyes darting nervously. "We need to show the Commission that the Tate household is stable. Just one afternoon, El. For Denzel."

I went because I was biding my time.

I went because my passport was still locked in the safe at the penthouse, and I needed Jaxon to lower his guard just enough for me to steal it back.

I sat on the white leather deck chair, clutching a glass of sparkling water like a shield. Under the fresh bandages, my arm throbbed in a steady, sickening rhythm.

Across the deck, Janice laughed.

She was wearing a white bikini that left nothing to the imagination, and around her neck, the diamond teardrop necklace glittered violently in the harsh sunlight.

The same necklace Jaxon had bought with money that was supposed to be for our future.

"You look like you're dressed for a funeral, Elfrieda," Janice called out, swirling the olive in her martini. "Lighten up. Jaxon is just trying to be nice."

Jaxon was at the helm, steering the boat away from the Chicago skyline. He glanced back at us, offering a weak, strained smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Everyone getting along?" he shouted over the roar of the engine.

"Perfectly," Janice purred.

She stood up and walked toward me.

The yacht hit a small wave, rocking gently. Janice didn't stumble. She moved with the fluid precision of a predator closing in on wounded prey.

She stopped right in front of me, blocking out the sun.

"You know," she whispered, leaning down so low that the wind carried her voice only to me. "He's going to leave you here. Not on the dock. In the water."

I looked up at her, my grip tightening on the glass.

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise," she smiled, her eyes dead cold. "You're bad for business, El. You're bad for his image. And frankly, I'm tired of sharing."

She glanced back at the helm. Jaxon was hunched over the GPS, oblivious.

Janice grabbed my wrist.

Her manicured nails dug viciously into the raw skin of my burn.

I gasped, pain blinding me for a second, and jerked back reflexively. "Get off me!" I yelled.

Janice threw herself backward instantly.

It was a performance of terrifying precision. She flailed her arms, her face twisting into a mask of faux terror as she hit the railing.

"Help! She's pushing me!"

She tumbled over the side. The splash was loud, cutting through the engine's drone.

"Janice!" Jaxon screamed.

He abandoned the wheel. He sprinted across the deck, his eyes wide with panic.

I stood up, clutching my injured arm to my chest. "Jaxon, she jumped," I said, my voice shaking. "She just—"

The yacht lurched.

With the helm unmanned, the boat drifted into a sharp turn, slamming broadside into a wake. The sudden shift in weight threw me off balance.

I slammed into the railing. The metal bit deep into my ribs, knocking the wind out of me.

My feet slipped on the wet deck.

Gravity took over. I went over the edge.

The cold hit me like a physical blow, seizing every muscle in my body. Lake Michigan in October is not water; it is a grave.

I surfaced, gasping for air, the freezing water filling my mouth.

The yacht was drifting away, the engines still churning white foam.

I saw Jaxon at the railing. He had a life preserver in his hand. He looked down at me, his face pale.

Then he looked to the left.

Janice was treading water, perfectly capable of swimming, yet screaming his name with theatrical desperation. "Jaxon! Save me!"

Jaxon looked at me one last time.

I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I just watched him make his choice.

He threw the life preserver toward Janice.

Then he dove in. He swam toward her, his strokes frantic.

The current from the yacht's wake caught me, pulling me under.

I watched the white hull move further and further away, a shrinking spot of safety in a world of blue.

He didn't look back.

He saved the shark and left the canary to drown.

My heavy clothes dragged me down like anchors. The cold seized my limbs, numbing the pain, numbing the fear.

I closed my eyes as the darkness took me.

And for the first time in three years, the relentless music in my head finally stopped.