Elisa stood over Conrad's unconscious body.

She crouched down beside him. She grabbed the knot of his custom silk tie and yanked it hard, loosening it completely.

Her fingers moved to the collar of his expensive dress shirt. She ripped the top three buttons open, exposing the hard muscles of his chest.

She grabbed his shoulder and shoved him, rolling his heavy body until he was lying face-down on the carpet in a pathetic, sprawling position.

Elisa pulled her phone from her pocket. She opened the camera app. The shutter clicked rapidly as she took five photos of the billionaire looking like a discarded drunk.

She put the phone away and opened her leather handbag. She dug past her keys and pulled out a stack of cash. She separated a single, crumpled one-dollar bill.

She leaned down and shoved the dollar bill into the breast pocket of his half-open shirt.

Next, she pulled a pad of yellow sticky notes and a pen from her bag. She clicked the pen and wrote in bold, sharp letters:

Terrible technique. Worst service. One dollar for pity.

She peeled the note off the pad and slapped it forcefully onto the center of Conrad's forehead.

Elisa stood up. She walked to the corner of the room and grabbed the handle of her small black suitcase. She had packed it three days ago.

She walked out of the master bedroom. David Shaw was standing in the hallway. His eyes widened in horror as he looked past her at his boss lying on the floor.

Elisa ignored him. Her heels clicked sharply against the oak stairs as she descended to the first floor.

She pushed the heavy front doors open, stepped out into the afternoon air, and got into the yellow taxi waiting at the end of the driveway. The car sped away, leaving the estate behind.

The scene shifted. Morning sunlight pierced through the glass windows of the master bedroom, hitting Conrad directly in the eyes.

A blinding, agonizing pain ripped through his skull. He groaned, a low, guttural sound, and pushed his hands against the floor.

As he forced himself to sit up, a piece of paper fluttered from his forehead and landed on his lap.

He picked up the yellow sticky note. His eyes struggled to focus on the handwriting.

Terrible technique. Worst service. One dollar for pity.

His hand dropped to his chest. His fingers brushed against paper. He pulled the crumpled one-dollar bill from his shirt pocket.

The blood drained from his face. His pupils dilated. A wave of pure, suffocating rage exploded in his chest.

He lunged forward, grabbing the empty crystal wine glass from the coffee table. He hurled it across the room. It smashed against the wall, shattering into a hundred pieces.

David burst through the bedroom door, panting heavily.

"Lock down the city," Conrad roared, his voice tearing at his throat. "Check every airport, every hotel. Find her!"

Two hours later, the atmosphere in the top-floor conference room of the Whitney Group headquarters was suffocating.

Conrad kicked the double doors open. They slammed against the walls.

The executives sitting around the long mahogany table froze. The room went dead silent.

Conrad marched to the head of the table. He slammed a project proposal down so hard the wood groaned.

He pointed a long finger at the project director. "You're fired. Get out."

The director opened his mouth to beg, but one look at the murderous, bloodshot eyes of his boss made his throat close up. He grabbed his briefcase and ran.

David stepped up to Conrad's side, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sir. We can't find her. There are no credit card transactions. No hotel bookings. She completely vanished."

Conrad's hands gripped the edge of the table. His knuckles turned stark white. His jaw ticked violently. She was hiding. She was playing a game, waiting for him to lose his mind.

A few days later, Elisa sat on the edge of a cheap mattress in a standard Manhattan motel room.

She powered on her primary phone for a fleeting moment to check a saved document. It buzzed instantly.

From Cindy: Sister, Conrad is at the hospital keeping me company. Do you want to come see us?

Elisa's eyes went flat. The air in her lungs turned to ice. She locked the screen, grabbed her coat, and walked out the door.

She took a cab to the most expensive private Catholic hospital in Manhattan. She pulled her coat collar up and kept her head low, blending into the hospital’s evening rush.

Pushing through the revolving glass doors, she walked straight toward the VIP elevator bank.

At the nursing station, two large security guards stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

Elisa showed the text message, her voice muffled by her collar. "Cindy Johns. Room 402. She’s expecting me."

The head nurse checked the tablet, noting the 'special guest' clearance Cindy had logged to bypass Conrad’s general lockdown. She looked Elisa up and down with a judgmental sneer and nodded to the guards. "Let her in. Ms. Johns has been waiting for her 'entertainment'."

Elisa walked down the long corridor. The thick carpet absorbed the sound of her heels.

She reached the premium suite at the end of the hall. The heavy wooden door was cracked open about an inch.

Elisa stopped. She didn't push the door. She stood perfectly still and looked through the narrow gap.

Sunlight flooded the room. Cindy sat propped up against lace pillows, wearing a silk hospital gown. She looked fragile, pathetic.

Conrad sat in a chair pulled close to the bed. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. His large, powerful hand was wrapped gently around Cindy's pale fingers.

"I still dream about the fire," Cindy whispered, her voice trembling. "The smoke... I was so scared, Conrad."

Cindy shrank back, pulling her shoulders in, pressing herself deeper into the pillows.

Conrad reached out with his free hand. He stroked Cindy's hair. The motion was sickeningly tender.

"I've got you," Conrad said. His voice was soft, a tone Elisa had never heard directed at her. "I will always protect the woman who saved my life."

Cindy sniffled, looking up at him through wet eyelashes. "Do you think Elisa hates me? Because of the divorce?"

Conrad let out a harsh, disgusted scoff. The tenderness vanished from his face, replaced by pure venom. "Elisa is a greedy, toxic viper. Don't waste your pity on her."

He squeezed Cindy's hand. "Signing those papers the second I woke up was the best decision I’ve ever made. As soon as the cooling-off period is over, I'm marrying you."

Outside the door, Elisa's chest seized. It felt as if a giant hand had reached through her ribs and crushed her heart into a bloody pulp.

She took a half-step back. Her shoulder blades hit the cold, hard wall of the corridor.

She squeezed her eyes shut. A sudden, violent flash of heat and orange flames ripped through her brain. She saw her own hands, covered in soot, dragging a heavy, unconscious body through burning debris.

A sharp, agonizing pain spiked behind her temples. The trauma-induced headache hit her hard.

Elisa snapped her eyes open. The pain vanished. The lingering ache in her chest evaporated, leaving behind a hollow, freezing void.

Any remaining trace of vulnerability died in that second.

She reached up and adjusted the collar of her coat. Her movements were precise, mechanical.

She gripped the handle of her black leather tote bag. Inside rested a thick stack of legal documents regarding her father's trust fund.

She lifted her right leg, aiming her pointed heel directly at the center of the heavy wooden door.

Elisa kicked the door.

Her heel struck the wood with explosive force. The door flew open, slamming against the interior wall with a deafening crash.

The sickeningly sweet atmosphere inside the room shattered instantly. Conrad and Cindy whipped their heads toward the entrance.

Cindy let out a high-pitched, theatrical shriek. She scrambled backward, pressing herself against Conrad's chest like a terrified animal.

Conrad's face darkened. He stood up immediately, using his broad shoulders to shield Cindy from view.

"Are you insane?" Conrad roared, his voice vibrating with rage. "Following me here like a deranged stalker? You make me sick."

Elisa let out a short, razor-sharp laugh. She didn't even blink at his anger.

She stepped into the room, her heels clicking aggressively against the hardwood floor. She walked straight to the edge of the bed, her posture straight, her chin held high.

She looked down at Cindy, who was peeking out from behind Conrad's arm. Elisa's eyes were dead, like looking at an insect.

She unzipped her tote bag. She pulled out the thick stack of financial records.

She raised her arm and slammed the papers onto the hospital bed, right over Cindy's legs. Pages slid out, scattering across the white sheets.

"Those are the transaction logs for the Johns family trust fund," Elisa said, her voice cutting through the room like a scalpel. "You and your mother forged my signature. You illegally transferred my father's equity."

Cindy's face lost all its color. Her lips trembled. She looked up at Conrad, her eyes wide with manufactured panic.

"I... I don't know what she's talking about!" Cindy sobbed, tears spilling over her cheeks. "Conrad, she's framing me!"

Conrad lunged forward. His hand shot out and clamped around Elisa's wrist. The veins on the back of his hand bulged as he squeezed.

"You are a monster," Conrad hissed, his face inches from hers. "To come into a hospital and terrorize a traumatized patient just to extort money?"

Elisa didn't wince. She yanked her arm back with sudden, violent force, breaking his grip.

She reached into her bag, pulled out an antibacterial wet wipe, and slowly, deliberately, scrubbed the skin on her wrist where he had just touched her.

Conrad froze. The sheer disgust in her action hit him like a physical blow to the stomach. His pride fractured.

Elisa threw the used wipe onto the floor. She looked straight into Conrad's eyes.

"You pride yourself on being a business genius," she sneered. "But a few fake tears have turned your brain to mush. You're an idiot, Conrad. A blind, pathetic idiot."

Conrad's jaw dropped slightly. The blood rushed to his face, turning his skin a dark, furious red. No one had ever spoken to him like that. His mind scrambled for a comeback, but he was paralyzed by her sheer audacity.

Elisa turned her cold gaze back to Cindy.

"You have exactly three days to return the thirty percent equity to my account," Elisa stated. Her tone left no room for negotiation. "If the money isn't there, I will file fraud charges in federal court. You can wear an orange jumpsuit to your wedding."

Cindy shook violently, her fingers digging into Conrad's suit sleeve.

Elisa didn't wait for an answer. Looking at them for one more second made her stomach turn.

She spun on her heel. She walked toward the door, her back perfectly straight.

Just as she reached the doorway, she paused. She turned her head slightly over her shoulder.

"I wish you both a long, miserable life together. A bitch and a dog make a perfect match."

Elisa walked out into the hallway.

Inside the room, Conrad stood frozen. His chest he heave up and down as he struggled to pull air into his burning lungs.