The black SUV cruised down the coastal highway toward Long Island. The morning sun hit the water, but inside the car, the air was freezing.
Haylee sat in the back, wearing dark sunglasses. Leo sat quietly beside her, twisting a Rubik's cube with rapid, precise movements.
The SUV pulled up to the massive iron gates of the Bowen estate.
The old security guard peered into the window. His jaw dropped. He stumbled backward, his hands shaking as he fumbled for the gate button.
Haylee's bodyguard pushed the gate open manually.
Haylee stepped out. Her heels sank slightly into the perfectly manicured lawn as she walked toward the main house, holding Leo's hand.
Wanda, the maid, was polishing the front door handle. She saw Haylee, dropped the rag, and let out a terrified shriek.
The scream echoed into the grand dining room.
Haylee kicked the heavy double doors open. They slammed against the walls with a violent crack.
Walter and Helen Bowen sat at the long mahogany table. Helen's coffee cup slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor. Walter shot up from his chair, his face turning a dark, furious purple.
"You!" Walter roared, pointing a shaking finger at her. "You ungrateful bitch! You have the nerve to show your face here?"
Helen clutched her pearls, forcing fake tears into her eyes. "You ruined us, Haylee! You ran away, and now you come crawling back for money?"
Haylee didn't blink. She stood at the head of the table, radiating pure ice.
Leo peeked out from behind her leg. He looked at Walter and Helen, his nose wrinkling in disgust. He let out a loud, mocking scoff.
Walter saw the boy. His lips curled into a vicious sneer. "So, five years later, you drag a burden back with you. Whose wild seed is this?"
The word hung in the air.
Haylee moved so fast it was a blur.
She closed the distance, raised her hand, and slapped Walter across the face with every ounce of strength she had.
The crack sounded like a gunshot.
Walter's gold-rimmed glasses flew off his face, clattering into the corner. He stumbled backward, clutching his rapidly swelling cheek, his eyes wide with shock.
Helen screamed. Wanda cowered against the wall.
"Don't you ever," Haylee whispered, her voice vibrating with lethal intent, "speak about my son."
She reached into her bag, pulled out the heavy manila envelope, and threw it directly at Walter's chest.
The envelope burst open. The legal documents scattered across the floor.
"Read it," Haylee commanded. "I'm not here for your dirty money. I'm here to cut the rot out of my life."
Walter looked down. The title of the document burned his eyes. She was legally severing all ties and demanding the return of her biological mother's heirlooms.
"You sign this, you never step foot in this house again!" Walter screamed, spit flying from his lips.
"This house is a graveyard," Haylee sneered. "I wouldn't take it if you begged me."
Walter's hands shook violently as he picked up a pen from the table and scrawled his name on the paper.
Haylee's bodyguard stepped forward and snatched the document.
Haylee turned around. She took Leo's hand and walked toward the door.
She paused at the threshold, looking over her shoulder. "Tell Cynthia to watch her back. I'm coming for her next."
She walked out, the heavy doors slamming shut behind her, sealing the tomb of her past.
The SUV pulled up to the curb outside the Aethelred Group headquarters. Haylee stepped out alone, dressed in a sharp, tailored Tom Ford suit.
She pushed through the revolving glass doors into the massive, echoing lobby.
Before she could reach the executive elevators, a man stepped out from the visitor seating area, blocking her path.
Dallin Harrington.
He looked awful. His suit was wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot. He had clearly seen the news of her return.
"Haylee," Dallin gasped, reaching out to grab her shoulders.
Haylee stepped back smoothly, dodging his hands. Her stomach churned with physical revulsion.
"Get out of my way, Dallin," she said, her voice flat.
Dallin took another step forward, his face twisting into a mask of desperate, fake agony. "I knew you were alive! I never stopped loving you. Cynthia forced me to marry her, Haylee. I swear!"
Employees in the lobby began to slow down, their eyes darting toward the commotion.
Haylee let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "You crawled into her bed because Walter promised you a board seat. You make me sick."
Dallin's face flushed with humiliation. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a black credit card. "I can take care of you now! Just let me explain!"
Haylee raised her hand, signaling the lobby security.
Before the guards could move, the private CEO elevator at the end of the hall chimed. The doors slid open.
Benedict Keith stepped out.
His dark suit fit perfectly over his broad shoulders. His presence sucked the air out of the room. His gray eyes swept the lobby and instantly locked onto Haylee and Dallin.
Dallin, panicked by Haylee calling security, lunged forward and grabbed her wrist hard.
Haylee's eyes flashed with rage. She pulled her arm back to strike him.
Suddenly, a massive shadow fell over them.
Benedict's large hand clamped down on Dallin's wrist like an iron vise.
Benedict squeezed. A sharp, sickening crack echoed in the quiet lobby.
Dallin let out a high-pitched, agonizing scream. His knees buckled as he dropped Haylee's wrist, his hand hanging at a painful, unnatural angle.
Benedict threw Dallin's arm away like it was infected garbage. He looked down at the trembling man, his eyes completely devoid of mercy.
"You touch my employee in my building again, and I'll break your neck," Benedict's voice was a low, terrifying rumble.
Haylee rubbed her wrist, her eyes darting to Benedict's sharp jawline. The phrase my employee sent a strange, hot shiver through her chest.
Dallin cradled his wrist, crying in pain. "Mr. Keith... this is a personal matter..."
Benedict didn't even look at him. He snapped his fingers at the head of security. "Throw him out. Blacklist him from every Aethelred property globally."
Two massive guards grabbed Dallin by the armpits and dragged him backward across the marble floor. Dallin screamed Haylee's name until the revolving doors pushed him out onto the street.
The lobby was dead silent.
Benedict turned to Haylee. His eyes dropped to the red mark on her wrist. His jaw ticked.
He stepped closer, his broad body shielding her from the staring crowd.
"The board is waiting, Dr. Mathews," Benedict said, his voice dropping an octave.
Haylee pulled her composure together, her spine straightening. "Lead the way, Mr. Keith."
They walked side by side toward the elevator, an undeniable, electric tension pulling between them.