Ember POV:

The air in the banquet hall was entirely gone. My lungs burned. I spun around, pushing off my good foot, and rushed toward the side corridor.

Loud, shrill laughter chased me. Karyn and her friends were howling behind my back. The sound wrapped around my ankles like venomous snakes, trying to drag me down.

I reached the heavy carved wooden doors at the end of the hall. I threw my weight against them and stumbled into the empty, brightly lit luxury restroom.

I slammed the door shut behind me. I grabbed the brass lock and twisted it hard. The sharp click echoed in the silence, finally cutting off the noise of the party.

My legs gave out. I slid down the smooth wood of the door, my dress bunching up around me until I hit the freezing tile floor.

I dragged air into my lungs in ragged, desperate gasps.

Under the harsh fluorescent lights, I looked down at my legs. Deep purple bruises were already blooming on my pale knees. My right ankle was angry and swollen, throbbing with a dull, heavy heat.

I pressed both hands hard over my face. My shoulders shook violently. A scream clawed at my throat, but I bit down on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. I would not make a sound. When I was a child, my father locked me in the pitch-black basement for a full day every time I cried. Crying meant punishment.

I lowered my hands and looked at the massive mirror above the sinks.

The woman looking back at me was a wreck. The hem of the pure white silk dress was smeared with gray dust and dirt from the marble floor.

I stared into my own eyes. The pathetic vulnerability and the shattered heartbreak slowly bled out of my gaze. The warmth died. What replaced it was a cold, absolute finality.

My hands were still trembling slightly as I grabbed my cheap clutch off the floor. I unzipped it and pulled out my old, cracked phone.

I unlocked the screen. My thumb swiped rapidly through the contacts list, scrolling past all the fake, glittering names of the socialites I had memorized for Chace.

I scrolled all the way to the bottom. I stopped at the blocked numbers list.

I took a deep breath. I pressed unblock.

A number with no saved name appeared on the screen. It was a number that represented the ultimate taboo in the New York underground.

Keith Mosley.

The name exploded in my head, bringing with it a heavy, terrifying pressure.

My mind flashed back to a violent rainstorm three years ago. I was trapped in a dead-end alley, surrounded. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of the shadows. He held a black umbrella over my head and handed me a clean, dry handkerchief. He didn't ask for anything. He just destroyed the men threatening me and walked away. I blocked his number the next day out of pure terror of his mafia ties.

Now, the weight of my father’s gambling debt and the threat to my mother’s grave pressed down on my spine like concrete blocks.

I stopped hesitating. I opened the text message app. My fingers flew across the cracked glass.

*I am ready to pay my debt.*

Those eight words drained every ounce of strength I had left in my body.

My thumb hovered over the send button. I stared at the little green arrow. For two seconds, the ghost of my past with Chace held me back. Then, I pressed down hard.

The screen flashed *Delivered*. My heart completely stopped beating. I stared unblinking at the bright screen.

The restroom was dead silent. The only sound was a slow drip from the gold faucet into the porcelain sink.

One second. Two seconds.

On the third second, the phone buzzed violently in my palm. The harsh notification chime made me jump.

I sucked in a sharp breath. My fingers were stiff as I tapped the unread message.

There were only four words on the screen. They radiated an overwhelming, suffocating dominance that left no room for negotiation.

*The price is marriage.*

The words hit my brain like a sledgehammer.

I squeezed my eyes shut. The image of Chace slipping the emerald ring onto Karyn’s finger burned behind my eyelids.

When I opened my eyes again, the last trace of fear was gone. There was only a reckless, destructive madness left.

This wasn't a contract to sell my body. This was my entry ticket to burn Chace's world to the ground.

I grabbed the edge of the marble sink and hauled myself to my feet. I turned the cold water handle. I cupped the freezing water in my hands and splashed it directly onto my face.

Ice-cold drops slid down my chin and dripped onto my collarbone. I looked at the reborn woman in the mirror. The corners of my mouth curled up into a slow, merciless smirk.

"This isn't a price. This is my knife."

Ember POV:

The freezing water shocked my nervous system. My mind became razor-sharp. I pulled a thick paper towel from the dispenser and gracefully blotted the water from my cheeks and chin.

I picked up my cracked phone from the marble counter. My thumb hovered over the keyboard for a fraction of a second before I typed a single word.

*Yes.*

I hit send. I didn't wait to see if it delivered. I clicked the screen off and tossed the phone into my cheap clutch. Watching my mother waste her life hoping for a man to change taught me one thing: hesitation only breeds deeper wounds.

I pulled a tube of dark red lipstick from the bag. I leaned close to the mirror, carefully tracing the sharp lines of my lips, completely masking the sickly pale color underneath.

I smoothed my hands down the sides of my silk dress, flattening the wrinkles. I rolled my shoulders back and locked my spine into a perfectly straight line. I grabbed the brass handle of the restroom door and pulled it open like a queen stepping onto a battlefield.

The cold draft in the hallway hit my bare arms. I didn't shiver. I walked forward, my heels clicking in a steady, aggressive rhythm against the floor.

I pushed the heavy double doors of the banquet hall open.

The blinding glare of the crystal chandeliers poured over me again.

A group of guests standing near the entrance stopped their whispering. Their jaws dropped as they stared at me. They couldn't believe the humiliated rat had crawled back into the light.

I didn't look at them. I walked straight past their mocking faces and headed directly for the bar. I reached over the counter and grabbed a heavy crystal glass filled with neat whiskey.

I turned around and leaned my lower back against the edge of the mahogany bar. I looked through the shifting crowd, locking my eyes entirely on the center of the stage.

Chace had his arm wrapped tightly around Karyn’s waist. He was bending her backward slightly, kissing her deeply while the crowd around them cheered and whistled.

Ten minutes ago, that sight would have ripped my chest open and stopped my breathing.

Right now, looking at them, my heart didn't even skip a beat. I felt absolutely nothing. The scene playing out in front of me looked like a cheap, poorly acted comedy.

I raised my glass. I swirled the amber liquid slowly. The ice cubes clinked sharply against the crystal glass.

Maybe my stare was too heavy. Maybe he felt the shift in the air. Chace suddenly broke the kiss. He lifted his head and scanned the room.

His eyes locked onto me standing at the bar. His thick eyebrows instantly snapped together in deep irritation.

He expected to see me sobbing in a corner. He expected me to be broken. Instead, he saw me holding a drink, studying him with the detached interest of an autopsy surgeon.

I looked at him like he was a complete stranger.

That cold, dead look in my eyes ignited a sudden, irrational fury in Chace's chest. I saw his jaw clench.

He let go of Karyn. He shoved his way through the crowd, his long legs eating up the distance between us. His massive frame radiated pure, suffocating aggression.

He stopped inches away from me. His broad shoulders completely blocked out the light from the chandeliers, casting me in his shadow.

His hand shot out. His thick fingers clamped down around my wrist, right over the hand holding the glass. His grip was bone-crushing.

The whiskey sloshed violently. Several drops of the amber liquid flew out and splashed onto the pristine white silk of my dress, staining it instantly.

I didn't try to pull my arm away. I didn't wince. I just tilted my head up slightly and stared into his angry gray-blue eyes. My gaze was as still as a frozen lake.

My utter lack of reaction pushed him over the edge. He gritted his teeth, his voice a low, threatening growl, warning me not to try any pathetic tricks to ruin his night.

He reached his free hand into his tailored jacket pocket. He pulled out a small, black velvet square box. He shoved it roughly against my chest, forcing me to take it with my free hand.

The lid wasn't clasped shut. It popped open. Inside sat a pair of massive pink diamond earrings. The stones caught the light, flashing brilliantly.

He looked down his nose at me. He ordered me to take the hush money, keep my mouth shut, and behave for the rest of the evening.

I looked down at the glittering diamonds in my palm. The corner of my mouth twitched up into a slow, venomous sneer.

I looked right into his eyes. I snapped the velvet box shut with a loud *crack*. I casually tossed the priceless diamonds into my cheap clutch like they were loose change.

I lifted my chin. My voice was perfectly flat and devoid of any human warmth. I told him I would do exactly as he asked. I turned on my heel and walked away, disappearing into the dark corner of the hall.

"As you wish, Mr. Chace."

Ember POV:

The endless banquet finally dragged to a close. Stepping out of the hotel lobby, the biting winter wind hit me instantly, carrying sharp sheets of freezing rain that lashed against the Manhattan pavement.

The hotel valet stood shivering by the curb. He respectfully pulled open the heavy door of the black stretch Lincoln.

Chace kept his arm firmly around Karyn’s shoulders, shielding her from the rain. He guided her into the spacious back seat first, then climbed in after her. He didn't even glance back. It was as if I had ceased to exist.

I stood alone on the wet sidewalk. The thin fabric of my shawl offered zero protection against the icy wind. I stood perfectly still for ten seconds, letting the cold numb my skin, before I walked toward the open door.

I bent my head, preparing to slide into the back seat opposite them.

Suddenly, Karyn shifted. She kicked her legs up, resting her sharp, pointed high heels directly on the leather seat I was about to occupy.

The razor-thin heel of her shoe grazed the fabric of my dress, missing tearing it by a millimeter. She completely blocked the entrance.

I stopped moving. I slowly raised my eyes and looked across the massive cabin at Chace.

Chace had his head resting against the plush leather headrest. His eyes were closed. He was completely ignoring Karyn’s blatant hostility. His silent permission hit me with a wave of nausea. It mirrored the exact way my wealthy relatives used to sit back and watch their wives humiliate my mother at family dinners.

I didn't say a word. I pulled my body back out into the rain. I walked to the front of the car, pulled open the passenger door, and sat down next to the driver.

I slammed the heavy door shut. The thick glass instantly cut off the sound of the storm outside. But the air inside the cabin was thick, heavy, and suffocating.

The driver shifted into gear. The massive engine purred, and the Lincoln glided smoothly into the dark, rain-slicked streets.

From the back seat, Karyn let out a high, breathy laugh. I heard the rustle of fabric. I knew she was rubbing the toe of her shoe up and down Chace’s calf.

Chace let out a low, vibrating chuckle. I heard the sound of his large hand wrapping around her ankle.

I sat stiffly in the passenger seat. I kept my eyes locked straight ahead, watching the windshield wipers violently slash the water away, over and over. My face was a blank mask.

My silence seemed to irritate Karyn. She stopped laughing. Her voice suddenly cut through the quiet, sharp and condescending.

She spoke to the back of my head. She told me that since Chace was a nostalgic man, she was willing to be generous and let me stay around.

But, she added, her tone turning to steel, I had to follow her rules. The mistress rules.

Rule number one: I was never allowed to make eye contact with Chace in public.

Rule number two: Whenever she was in the apartment with Chace, I had to stay locked in the guest room like an invisible ghost.

Every word she spat was dripping with poison. She was talking to me like I was a stray dog she was reluctantly letting sleep on the porch.

I rested my hands on my lap. I crossed my fingers, digging my nails so deeply into the meat of my palms that it burned. I forced my breathing to stay even.

When I didn't respond, Karyn lunged forward. She shoved her hand between the seats, her long, red-painted fingernail jabbing hard into the back of my leather headrest.

She lowered her voice into a vicious hiss. She warned me that the most important rule was that I was absolutely forbidden from getting pregnant.

She cursed me. She said if I ever dared to try and use a bastard child to climb the ranks, she would personally carve the piece of meat out of my stomach.

That word—bastard—struck the deepest, rawest nerve in my body. The trauma of my own birth screamed in my head.

I snapped. I whipped my head around.

My eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. My gaze was completely dead, filled with a cold, absolute murderous intent.

Karyn saw my eyes. She actually gasped, her body jerking backward away from the seat instinctively.

I held her gaze for one more second before slowly turning my head back to the windshield. I unclasped my hands. I flattened my right palm and pressed it gently against my own flat stomach.

The corner of my mouth pulled up into a dark, mocking smirk. I didn't need to trap him with a child. I was going to take his entire empire.

The car fell back into a deathly silence. The only sound was the wet hiss of the tires rolling over the flooded asphalt.

"You better pray I never get that chance."