Audriana's heart fluttered wildly against her ribs. She watched a waiter walk by with a silver tray of wedding favors—small, velvet boxes of artisan chocolates.

She reached out and grabbed two boxes.

She spotted Eston propped against a marble pillar near the french doors, his aluminum crutches jammed under his armpits, a napkin pressed to his bleeding lip. His right leg hung uselessly in the heavy medical brace, the toe of his shoe barely grazing the floor. His crutch tips were planted wide to keep him upright, and even from across the room she could see his knuckles were white from gripping the handles. His eyes were fixed on her, burning with humiliation. Audriana adjusted her posture and walked straight toward him. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor.

Ellwood didn't stop her. He stood back, taking a sip of his bourbon, watching her with dark, amused eyes.

Audriana stopped right in front of Eston. She shoved the velvet boxes into his chest. He fumbled, one hand releasing its death grip on the crutch handle just long enough to trap the boxes against his sternum before they fell. "Have some wedding candy, nephew. It's sweet."

Eston looked like he wanted to vomit. His hands shook as he held the boxes. He glanced past her shoulder, saw Ellwood watching, and swallowed his rage.

Audriana leaned in close. "If you ever come near me again, I won't need him to break your leg. I will do it myself."

Eston's face turned gray. He couldn't say a word.

Audriana turned around and walked back to Ellwood. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. A rush of pure, vindictive adrenaline pumped through her veins.

Ellwood picked up a pink macaron from a dessert table and handed it to her. "Like a kitten showing her claws," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Audriana's ears burned. She took the cookie, avoiding his gaze.

The head butler approached them, bowing slightly. "Mr. Maxwell. Your father requests your presence in the upstairs study."

Ellwood's jaw tightened. The playful mood vanished instantly. He looked at Audriana. "Stay in the crowd. Do not wander off."

He followed the butler up the stairs.

Upstairs, the heavy study doors closed behind Ellwood.

Prescott Maxwell sat in a leather wheelchair behind a massive desk. He threw a manila folder onto the wood.

"Explain this," Prescott demanded, his voice raspy. "You marry a bankrupt girl out of nowhere?"

Ellwood walked to the window, looking down at the ballroom floor. "It was a business acquisition."

Prescott let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Don't lie to me, boy. I saw the photos. I saw her eyes. Her eyes remind me of some very unpleasant memories. Ellwood, do not stumble over the same mistake twice. You know exactly who I am talking about."

Ellwood froze. The silver lighter in his hand slipped, clattering loudly onto the windowsill. The temperature in the room plummeted to freezing.

He turned around. His eyes were pitch black, filled with a violent, suppressed rage. "Do not cross that line, old man. My marriage is mine."

Prescott sighed, rubbing his temples. "The past is gone, Ellwood. Do not ruin an innocent girl's life just because you need a ghost to hold onto."

Ellwood didn't answer. He turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

Downstairs, Audriana was looking out the window when she heard footsteps. Frances was walking toward her, holding a full glass of red wine. Her eyes were fixed on the fabric of Audriana's black silk gown.

Frances feigned a sudden stumble, her wrist flicking forward intentionally to send the full glass of red wine flying directly at the skirt of Audriana's pristine black gown. Audriana saw it coming. In a split second, she pivoted sharply to the left, stepping completely out of the trajectory. Frances lost her balance and stumbled forward, but the dark red liquid sailed past Audriana, splashing violently all over the expensive cream Chanel suit of a wealthy socialite standing just behind her. Audriana glanced down. The dark wine had missed her entirely. A flicker of grim satisfaction crossed her face—black fabric hid a multitude of sins. Frances had miscalculated.

The woman shrieked. Chaos erupted. Frances scrambled to apologize, her face bright red with embarrassment.

Audriana didn't stay to watch. She slipped through the French doors and stepped out into the cool night air of the gardens.

The garden was dimly lit by small ground lamps. The heavy scent of blooming roses filled the air. Audriana walked toward the large stone fountain. Her feet were killing her. She kicked off her high heels, letting her bare feet touch the cold stone edge of the fountain. She let out a long breath.

A metallic scraping sound echoed behind her. Crutch tips dragging across the stone pathway.

Audriana spun around.

A tall shadow lurched out from behind the thick rose bushes. The overwhelming stench of cheap whiskey hit her face.

Eston stood there. His weight was braced on his crutches, his shattered leg dangling limp in the heavy brace, the toe of his shoe scraping uselessly against the ground. He heaved himself forward another step, the crutches grinding against the stone as he swung his useless leg between them, blocking her only path back to the house.

Audriana backed up until her bare heels hit the cold, wet stone of the fountain. There was nowhere left to go.

"Get away from me, Eston," she ordered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

Eston laughed. It was an ugly, wet sound. He swung one crutch out and hooked the rubber-padded curve of it around her waist, yanking her off balance. As she stumbled toward him, his free hand shot out and grabbed her bare shoulder, his fingers digging painfully into her skin. "You think you're so smart, playing hard to get? You just wanted his money!"

Bile rose in Audriana's throat. She twisted her body violently, bringing her right hand up and smashing the heel of her shoe directly into Eston's chest.

Eston grunted in pain, but the alcohol numbed him. He ripped the shoe from her hand and flung it sideways. The heel skipped across the stone and plopped into the fountain water. He grabbed both of her wrists, pinning them against her sides.

He leaned down, trying to force his mouth onto hers. Audriana snapped her head to the side. His wet lips dragged across her cheek, leaving a trail of disgusting saliva.

Audriana brought her knee up, driving it hard into his stomach.

Eston's crutches clattered to the ground. His hands let go of her wrists. He collapsed forward, his palms barely catching the edge of the fountain to keep his face from smashing into the stone. He gasped for air, but one hand still clawed up, seizing her wrist again.

Audriana opened her mouth to scream.

Before a sound could escape her lips, a massive hand shot out from the darkness. Long, thick fingers wrapped around the back of Eston's collar.

With a terrifying surge of brute strength, the hand yanked Eston backward. He was ripped off his feet. His braced leg twisted at an unnatural angle and his crutches spun away as he crashed heavily onto the manicured grass.

Ellwood stepped into the moonlight. His face was a mask of pure, murderous fury. The air around him felt thick enough to choke on.

Audriana's legs gave out. She slid down the side of the fountain, her breathing erratic.

Ellwood closed the distance in two strides. He dropped to his knees and pulled her tightly against his chest. The familiar, clean scent of cedarwood hit her senses. The tension in her body snapped. Hot tears flooded her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

Ellwood felt her shaking. The muscles in his arms bunched. He stripped off his suit jacket and wrapped it tightly around her bare shoulders.

Eston groaned, rolling onto his side. He looked up, squinting through the pain. "Uncle… she seduced me…"

Ellwood let go of Audriana. He stood up slowly. The sound of his leather shoes crushing the grass was the only noise in the garden.

He didn't say a word. He walked over to Eston, pulled his foot back, and kicked him squarely in the face.

The sickening crunch of bone breaking echoed loudly. Eston screamed, clutching his shattered nose as blood poured through his fingers.

Ellwood lifted his foot and pressed the sole of his shoe down hard on Eston's chest, pinning him to the dirt.

He leaned down. His voice was a demonic whisper. "You touch what is mine, and you die."

Eston sobbed, his body convulsing in terror. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Flashlight beams cut through the darkness. Three estate security guards ran over, freezing in horror when they saw the scene.

Ellwood slowly turned his head to look at them. "Drag this garbage to Frances's room. Tell her to leash her dog."

The guards nodded frantically, grabbing Eston by the arms and dragging him away into the shadows. One of them scooped up the abandoned crutches and hurried after the others.

The garden fell silent again.

Ellwood walked back to Audriana. He crouched down. He pulled a clean white handkerchief from his pocket. With rough but controlled movements, he wiped the side of her face where Eston had touched her. He rubbed the skin until it turned pink, erasing every trace of the other man.

He stopped, his dark eyes locking onto her red, tear-filled ones.

Audriana thought he was going to yell at her for causing a scene. Instead, he slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. He lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

She gasped, her hands instinctively grabbing his broad shoulders.

"We are going home," he muttered against her hair.

He carried her through a side gate, avoiding the main ballroom, and walked straight to a waiting black Lincoln parked in the rear driveway.

The driver opened the door. Ellwood placed her gently on the leather seat and climbed in beside her. The privacy partition immediately rolled up, sealing them in a quiet, dark box.

Audriana pulled his jacket tighter around herself. She looked at his sharp profile in the dim light. "Thank you," she whispered.

Ellwood didn't look at her. He picked up a bottle of water, opened it, and handed it to her. "You are my wife. Protecting you is my obligation."

The Lincoln glided into the underground parking garage of a hyper-luxury high-rise in Tribeca. The engine cut off, leaving a heavy silence in the car.

The driver opened the door. Ellwood stepped out. He looked back at Audriana, who was staring down at her bare, dirty feet, hesitating to step onto the concrete.

Without a word, Ellwood leaned in and scooped her up into his arms again.

Audriana's face flushed hot. "I can walk," she protested weakly, pushing lightly against his chest.

Ellwood's arms tightened around her, pressing her closer. "Stop moving," he commanded.

He carried her into the private elevator. He pressed his thumb against the biometric scanner, and the doors slid shut. The elevator shot up to the penthouse level.

The doors opened directly into a massive, open-concept living space. It was decorated in stark black, white, and gray. It looked like a museum—cold, expensive, and completely devoid of human warmth.

Ellwood set her down on a plush gray sofa. He walked away and returned a minute later with a white first-aid box.

He dropped to one knee in front of her. He gently took her right wrist. Angry purple bruises in the shape of Eston's fingers stained her pale skin. Ellwood's jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek.

He opened a tube of ointment and squeezed a cold drop onto her skin.

Audriana hissed sharply as the medicine stung.

Ellwood's movements instantly slowed. He lowered his head, blowing softly on the bruised skin as he rubbed the ointment in with extreme care. The harsh lines of his face softened in the dim light.

Audriana stared at his thick eyelashes. Her heart skipped a beat. A strange, warm feeling bloomed in her chest. She felt safe.

"Go take a shower," Ellwood said, standing up and closing the box. "The master bedroom is down the hall. There are clothes in the closet."

Audriana nodded. She walked down the long hallway and entered the master suite. The bathroom was the size of her old apartment. She stood under the scalding hot water until her skin turned red, scrubbing away the memory of Eston's touch.

When she stepped out, she opened the massive walk-in closet.

There were no women's clothes anywhere to be seen, only endless rows of dark, meticulously tailored men's suits and crisp dress shirts. She reached up and pulled down one of his heavy black silk dress shirts from a mahogany hanger. She slipped it over her head. The fabric was incredibly soft, but the hem fell past her mid-thigh, and the sleeves completely swallowed her hands. It was entirely too large, hanging off her slender frame, yet the fabric smelled intensely of cedarwood and him. The sheer size difference made her acutely aware of whose territory she was in.

She walked out into the bedroom.

Ellwood was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window. He wore a dark grey bathrobe. A cigarette burned between his fingers, the smoke curling around his face.

He heard her footsteps and turned around. His eyes swept over the silk shirt clinging to her curves. His gaze darkened, turning heavy and predatory.

Audriana crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling very exposed. "Should I sleep on the couch?"

Ellwood crushed the cigarette into an ashtray. He walked over, grabbed her by the shoulders, and gently pushed her down onto the massive king-sized bed. He pulled the heavy duvet over her legs.

"Sleep right here," he ordered, his voice a low, rough rumble that brooked no argument. "Do not leave this bed without my permission."

Audriana was too tired to argue. The moment her head hit the soft pillow, her brain shut down.

Hours later, she woke up gasping for air. A nightmare about her father flatlining had ripped her out of sleep. Cold sweat coated her forehead.

She opened her eyes in the dark.

Ellwood was lying next to her. He wasn't asleep. He was propped up on one elbow, staring down at her face.

The coldness in his eyes was completely gone. Instead, there was a look of agonizing, desperate longing. It was a look so intense it made Audriana's chest ache.

Before she could speak, Ellwood reached out. His cool fingertips brushed a damp strand of hair away from her forehead. He traced the line of her cheekbone, his touch feather-light, as if he were touching something fragile that might break.

He leaned down, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply.

"Annie…" he whispered. The word was muffled against her skin.

Audriana didn't hear it clearly. The syllables blurred together against her collarbone, sounding like a fragmented nickname or perhaps just a garbled attempt to say her own name. She was entirely too exhausted to decipher it, assuming it was just a garbled attempt to say her own name. The sound tugged at something deep in her chest—a thread of warmth tangled with a faint, inexplicable unease—but exhaustion swallowed the thought whole before she could chase it down. She let go of the prickle of tension and wrapped her arms around his broad back, letting his warmth chase away the nightmare.

She fell back asleep in his arms, completely unaware of the tear that slipped from the corner of Ellwood's eye and soaked into her pillow.

When the morning sun hit her face, Audriana woke up. The bed beside her was empty. The sheets were cold.