Kane set the tray down on the bedside table. He moved slowly, telegraphing every motion, like Aria was a startled animal he didn't want to spook.

"Coffee," he said. "Soy milk. Two sugars."

Aria looked at the mug. Then she looked at his hands.

She had never noticed his hands before. Not really. She saw the ring she put there, but she never saw the skin. There was a thick, rough patch of skin between his thumb and index finger. A callus. It looked out of place on a man whose supposed life of leisure consisted of reading and going to the gym. It was hard, worn skin. The kind you got from repetitive, forceful work. A tool, or... something else. Aria's mind snagged on the detail, unable to place it, but a new kind of alarm bell, quiet and deep, began to ring.

Aria didn't drink the coffee. She couldn't. The phantom taste of bitter almonds was still coating her tongue.

"Are you okay?" he asked. He didn't come closer. He stayed by the bed, giving her space.

Before Aria could answer, the main door to the bedroom opened.

"Good morning, Mrs. Daniels!"

Bella. Their maid. Or rather, the spy Chloe had planted in Aria's house two years ago.

She bustled in, carrying a garment bag that Aria knew contained her gala dress. She was smiling, that bright, customer-service smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"You look a little pale," Bella said, hanging the dress on the hook. She turned to Aria, her eyes scanning Aria's face. "Did you take your vitamins yet? I put them out on the counter."

The vitamins. The slow-acting poison that had weakened Aria for months before the final dose.

Rage, hot and blinding, flooded Aria's system. It replaced the fear.

"Where were you last night, Bella?" Aria asked. Her voice was raspy, but steady.

Bella blinked. "I... I went home, ma'am. Like always."

"Liar."

Aria walked over to the nightstand and picked up her iPad. She didn't even turn it on. She just held it.

"The building logs show you didn't leave until 3:00 AM. And you didn't use the service elevator. You used the guest lift. Who were you meeting on the 40th floor?"

There was no one on the 40th floor except an empty unit owned by the Sloan family trust.

Bella's face went slack. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're fired," Aria said. "Get out. Now. Leave your key card on the dresser."

"You can't-" Bella looked at Kane. "Mr. Holt, she's not making sense."

Aria looked at Kane too.

He didn't look confused. He didn't ask Aria why she was firing their staff on the morning of the biggest day of her life.

He just took one step to the right.

It was a small movement, but it completely blocked Bella's path to Aria. He crossed his arms. His biceps bulged against the cotton of his shirt. He stared at Bella with eyes that were completely dead of emotion.

"You heard her," Kane said.

Bella flinched. She looked from him to Aria, realized she had lost whatever game she was playing, and threw the key card on the floor. She stormed out, slamming the door.

The silence returned.

Aria walked to the garment bag. She unzipped it. The white lace dress, worth fifty thousand dollars, shimmered in the light. It was the dress Jordan had picked out. He liked Aria in white. He said it made her look innocent.

Aria walked to the desk and grabbed the heavy fabric shears.

Kane watched her. He didn't move to stop her. He leaned back against the wall, one eyebrow raised.

Aria took the lace straps of the bodice in her hand and squeezed the shears. The sound of expensive fabric tearing was the most satisfying thing she had heard all morning.

Snip. Rip.

She destroyed the bodice. She cut until the dress was strapless, jagged, and ruined.

She dropped the scissors. They clattered on the floor.

"If I wanted to burn this city to the ground today," Aria said, turning to face him. "Would you help me?"

Kane looked at the ruined dress, then at Aria's face. He didn't blink.

"Is that in my job description?" he asked. His tone was dry, almost bored.

Aria walked up to him. She was close enough to smell his soap. Sandalwood and something sharp, like metal. She reached up and fixed the collar of his t-shirt. Her fingers brushed his neck. His pulse was slow. Steady.

"You're my husband, Kane," Aria whispered. "Your job is to be on my side."

His muscles rippled under her touch. He went rigid for a second, then relaxed. His eyes darkened.

"Honey, could you get the car ready?" Aria asked, her voice softer now, a careful performance. "Not the limo. The Maybach. I have an errand to run before all the chaos starts."

"Where are we going? The church?"

"No," Aria said. "The security center."

Kane studied her for another second. Then the corner of his mouth twitched upward. It wasn't a smile. It was an acknowledgment.

"Five minutes," he said.

He turned and walked out.

Aria went to the safe in the closet. She punched in the code. She took out the digital recorder she now knew she needed, the one she had seen in her nightmares.

She stripped off her pajamas. She didn't put on the white dress. She put on a white suit. Sharp shoulders. wide legs.

She looked in the mirror and applied a coat of blood-red lipstick.

Downstairs, inside the black Maybach, Kane tapped a message into a phone that looked like a brick.

Target is awake. Status changed.

Aria opened the passenger door and slid in. The lock clicked shut.

The Maybach glided to a halt at the service entrance of The Plaza Hotel. The tinted windows turned the bright afternoon sun into a dull gray gloom.

"The paparazzi are swarming the front," Kane said. He didn't look at Aria. He was watching the mirrors, his eyes darting back and forth.

"Good," Aria said. "Let them wait."

Aria touched the earpiece in her right ear. "I need the security feed for the VIP suite. The Penthouse level."

Kane looked at Aria then. "You want me to hack the hotel?"

"I want you to do what you do when you think I'm asleep," Aria said. "Don't pretend, Kane. We don't have time."

He held Aria's gaze for a second, assessing. Then he nodded. He pulled a laptop from under his seat. His fingers flew across the keyboard. It wasn't the typing of a layman. It was a blur.

"I need physical access to the server room to bypass the hardline encryption," he said. "Third floor."

"Go," Aria said. "I'll handle the board."

Kane got out of the car. He didn't walk like a driver. He moved like a ghost. He slipped through the service door and vanished into the shadows of the corridor.

Aria took a breath. The nausea was rising again, a reminder that her timeline was physical, not just strategic. She pushed the door open and stepped onto the red carpet of the back hallway.

Three members of the Hubbard-Daniels board were standing near the kitchen entrance, looking lost.

"Gentlemen," Aria said, flashing a smile that felt like baring teeth.

"Aria!" Mr. Henderson, the CFO, looked relieved. "We were told the ceremony was delayed. Is everything alright?"

"Everything is perfect," Aria lied. "But before we start, I have a merger demonstration. A surprise. It's upstairs in the VIP suite. You need to see this."

Greed is a powerful motivator. They followed Aria without question.

They took the elevator to the penthouse. As the numbers climbed, Aria texted the reporter she had tipped off an hour ago. Now.

The elevator pinged. They stepped out.

Aria stood in front of the double mahogany doors of Suite 1001. Her hand hovered over the brass handle. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but her hand was rock steady.

"This," Aria said to the board members, "is the future of our company."

In her earpiece, Kane's voice crackled. "You're live. Main ballroom screen is overridden. Audio is hot."

Aria threw the doors open.

The scene inside was a cliché, but clichés are effective for a reason.

Jordan was on the bed. Chloe was straddling him. They were half-naked, a tangle of limbs and expensive sheets. A bottle of champagne lay overturned on the floor, soaking into the carpet.

Chloe screamed. It was a high, piercing shriek. She scrambled for a sheet, pulling it up to her neck.

Jordan rolled off the bed, tripping over his own pants. He crashed into a side table, sending a lamp smashing to the floor.

"What the-" Jordan stared at them. Then he saw the board members. His face drained of color.

Behind Aria, cameras flashed. The reporter had slipped in with the board.

Aria didn't yell. She didn't cry. She just watched.

"Is this the merger strategy?" Aria asked, her voice calm.

Downstairs, in the grand ballroom, five hundred guests were watching this on a forty-foot LED screen. Aria could imagine the collective gasp.

Jordan scrambled to his feet, holding a pillow over his crotch. "Aria! Aria, wait! This isn't-"

"Isn't what?" Aria held up her tablet. "A violation of the morality clause in the pre-merger agreement? Section 4, paragraph 2?"

She tapped the screen.

"As of this moment, Hubbard-Daniels is exercising its right to terminate the merger due to gross misconduct by the Sloan acting CEO."

"You can't do that!" Chloe yelled. She looked pathetic, shivering under the sheet. "We love each other!"

"Love doesn't vest for three years, Chloe," Aria said.

She turned to the board members. They looked horrified. Disgusted.

"Is this the man you want running my grandfather's legacy?" Aria asked. "A man who can't even keep his zipper up for a wedding?"

Mr. Henderson shook his head. He turned his back on the room.

"Showtime is over," Kane's voice said in Aria's ear. "Extraction ready. North stairwell."

The adrenaline crashed. The room spun. The floor tilted.

Aria turned on her heel and walked out. She kept her chin high until she rounded the corner.

Her knees buckled.

Strong hands caught her before she hit the ground.

Kane was there. He held her up by her elbows, his grip iron-hard. He looked at Aria's face, scanning her pupils.

"Breathe," he ordered.

Aria leaned into him, just for a second. "Did they see?"

"Everyone saw," Kane said. "The internet is melting."

Kane guided Aria into a private lounge off the main hallway. He sat her down on a velvet sofa and handed her a bottle of water.

"Drink," he said.

Aria took a sip. Her hands were shaking.

The door to the lounge banged open. It hit the wall with a crack that sounded like a gunshot.

Victoria Sloan marched in. Jordan's mother. The matriarch of the Sloan empire. She was followed by Tiffany, Jordan's sister.

Victoria's face was a mask of fury. Her makeup was perfect, but her eyes were wild.

"You little bitch!" she screamed.

She crossed the room in three strides. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Our stock is in freefall!"

Tiffany lunged for the tablet in Aria's lap. "Give me that! You recorded it illegally!"

Aria twisted her body, shielding the device. "It was a live feed from the hotel security. I didn't record anything. The internet did."

Victoria raised her hand. Her palm was open, fingers rigid. She swung at Aria's face.

Aria flinched, bracing for the impact.

It never came.

Kane stepped out of the shadows. He didn't grab her. He didn't shove her. He just stepped between them. He stood there, a wall of muscle and menace.

Victoria's hand stopped inches from his chest. She looked up at him, startled.

"Get out of my way, you useless kept man," she spat.

Kane didn't blink. He looked down at her like she was a stain on the carpet.

Aria stood up. She reached around Kane and grabbed Victoria's wrist. She squeezed. Hard.

"This isn't your country club, Victoria," Aria said. "This is a crime scene. Your son committed fraud."

"Fraud?" Victoria laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "He cheated. Men cheat. You'll get over it."

"He signed a contract stating he was not involved in any actions that would damage the company reputation while negotiating the deal. He lied. That's fraud. Federal fraud."

Victoria's face went pale. She knew the law. She knew what an SEC investigation would do to them.

"You're just frigid," Tiffany sneered from behind her mother. "That's why he went to Chloe. Jordan has needs. He said you were like sleeping with a mannequin."

Aria laughed. It was a cold, dark sound.

"If his performance issues are my fault," Aria said, looking Tiffany dead in the eye, "then why did he only last three minutes with Chloe? I timed it."

Tiffany's mouth dropped open.

Victoria signaled to the two large men in suits waiting in the hallway. "Get him out of here. And grab her."

The bodyguards stepped forward.

Kane walked to the door. He slammed it shut in their faces. He turned the lock.

Then he turned back to the room. He unbuttoned his suit jacket.

"You're locked in here with me," Kane said. His voice was low, terrifyingly calm.

Victoria took a step back. "Who is this animal? Where did you find him?"

Aria walked up to Kane. She put her hand on his arm. It was rock hard.

"This is my husband," Aria said. "And he's more of a man than your son will ever be."

Victoria was shaking now. Rage and fear warring in her eyes. "I will freeze every asset you have. You won't be able to buy a pack of gum."

"Try it," Aria said. "I'll drive your stock price so low you'll be delisted by Tuesday."

"Move," Aria said to Victoria.

Aria shoulder-checked her as she walked past. Kane opened the door, checked the hall, and ushered her out.

As soon as they were clear, in the service corridor, the strength left Aria's legs again. She grabbed Kane's arm to stay upright. Cold sweat was running down her back.

"Hospital?" Kane asked. He was supporting Aria's entire weight now.

"No," Aria whispered. "Dr. Evans. The private toxicologist. Upper East Side."

Kane's head snapped toward Aria. His eyes narrowed. He didn't ask questions. He didn't waste time.

"Hold on," he said.

He scooped Aria up. He carried her through the kitchen, ignoring the staring chefs. They burst out into the alley where the car was waiting.

Victoria's screams echoed down the hallway behind them. "Aria! You'll pay for this!"

Kane dumped Aria in the passenger seat and slammed the door. He vaulted over the hood and slid behind the wheel.

The engine roared.