Three years later.

The yellow taxi jerked to a halt in front of the Plaza Hotel in midtown Manhattan.

Danae pushed the door open. She stepped onto the pavement, her black stiletto heels clicking sharply against the concrete. She wore a tailored white blazer that screamed authority, her posture rigid and flawless.

She handed a crisp hundred-dollar bill through the window to the driver and turned toward the revolving glass doors.

She hadn't been on American soil in three years. The Langford Research Institute—her nominal co-appointment—had existed only as a line on her credentials, a digital ghost she had never once logged into, exactly as Kellan had instructed. She had kept her promise. No footprint. No trace. No reason for anyone on this continent to know she was coming.

Cleo, her clinical assistant, was bouncing on her heels in the lobby.

"Dr. Davis!" Cleo rushed forward, holding out a glossy lanyard. "You made it."

Cleo slipped the VIP all-access badge over Danae's head.

"The main sponsor for the symposium just changed at the last minute," Cleo muttered, matching Danae's fast pace as they walked through the opulent, gold-leafed lobby.

"I also got a strange call from Langford this morning," Cleo added, frowning. "Something about a chemical authorization flagged on your researcher profile. I told them you weren't even in the country yet. They said the request went through last week, so I figured it was just a clerical glitch."

Danae slowed her stride for half a beat. A cold prickle ran down the back of her neck. "What kind of authorization?"

"They didn't say. Some routine reagent order. Probably nothing." Cleo shrugged. "Anyway, the department head is waiting inside. Big crowd."

Danae filed the information away. She would deal with Langford after the symposium. Right now, she needed to focus.

Danae pushed open the heavy mahogany double doors leading into the grand banquet hall.

The roar of hundreds of wealthy doctors and investors hit her ears.

She walked straight to a towering champagne pyramid. She reached out, her manicured fingers wrapping around the stem of a crystal flute.

Just as she lifted the glass, a low, rumbling laugh cut through the noise behind her.

The sound hit Danae's spine like a live wire. Her entire body locked up. Her lungs stopped pulling in air.

She knew that laugh. It was etched into her bones.

Danae forced herself to breathe. She turned around, her movements agonizingly slow.

Ten feet away, standing in the center of a circle of medical executives, was Adrian.

He looked older, harder. His black suit fit flawlessly over his broad shoulders. As he shifted his weight, his dark eyes casually swept across the room.

His gaze locked onto hers.

Adrian's body went completely rigid. The muscle in his jaw ticked violently. The champagne glass in his hand tilted, spilling dark red wine onto the pristine carpet.

Before Danae could process the shock on his face, a woman stepped into the circle.

The woman wore a custom emerald-green gown. She slid her arm through Adrian's, pressing her chest intimately against his bicep.

The woman turned her head, smiling up at Adrian.

Danae's stomach dropped out of her body.

The glass in Danae's hand slipped. She fumbled, catching it by the base just before it shattered on the floor.

The woman—Jordyn Webster—had the exact same slope of the nose. The exact same sharp jawline. The exact same shade of dark hair.

Memories assaulted Danae. Adrian staring at her face in the dark. Adrian tracing her jawline.

She hadn't been his wife. She had been a placeholder. A cheap copy.

A wave of pure, suffocating panic crashed over her. Her chest tightened, the air refusing to enter her lungs. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision.

Jordyn noticed her staring. Jordyn's lips curved into a slow, calculated smirk. She tilted her head, a deliberate, mocking gesture aimed right at Danae.

Adrian followed Jordyn's gaze. He looked at Danae again, his eyes darkening into something dangerous and unreadable.

Danae couldn't breathe. The walls of the banquet hall were closing in.

She spun around. She slammed her champagne glass down onto a passing waiter's silver tray, the liquid sloshing over the rim.

"Excuse me," she choked out to Cleo, pressing her hand hard against her sternum.

Danae shoved her way through the crowd, her heels digging into the carpet as she sprinted toward the side exit of the ballroom.

Danae hit the heavy brass door of the women's restroom with both hands, shoving it open.

She bolted for the furthest stall, slammed the door shut, and threw the deadbolt.

Her back hit the metal partition. She slid down until she was crouching, her hands clutching her chest as her heart hammered violently against her ribs.

She ripped open her designer handbag. Her hands were shaking so badly that the orange prescription bottle slipped through her fingers.

It hit the tile. The plastic cap popped off.

Tiny white beta-blocker pills scattered across the floor, clicking against the porcelain.

Danae dropped to her knees. She snatched two pills from the dirty tile, shoved them into her mouth, and swallowed them dry. The chalky medicine scraped down her throat.

She squeezed her eyes shut, counting her breaths. One. Two. Three.

Slowly, the frantic pounding in her chest began to dull. The chemical calm washed over her nervous system.

Danae stood up. She unlocked the stall and walked over to the long marble vanity.

She turned on the gold faucet. She cupped the freezing water in her hands and splashed it directly onto her face, ruining her foundation.

She grabbed a paper towel, patting her skin dry. She looked at her reflection. Her eyes were sharp, cold, and completely devoid of the terrified girl she had been three years ago.

The heavy brass door to the restroom clicked open.

Jordyn walked in. Her silver stiletto heels echoed sharply against the tile.

Jordyn stopped right next to Danae. She looked into the mirror, her eyes widening in mock surprise as she pressed a hand to her chest.

"Oh my god," Jordyn gasped, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "It's uncanny. We really do look so much alike."

Danae pulled another paper towel from the dispenser. She didn't even turn her head.

Jordyn turned on the water, delicately washing her fingertips. "This gown? Adrian had it custom-made for me in Paris. Did you ever get to wear anything like this when you were with him?"

Jordyn tilted her head, that same calculated, venomous angle.

Danae balled the paper towel up. She tossed it perfectly into the trash bin. She finally turned her body to face Jordyn.

Danae's eyes slowly dragged up and down Jordyn's body, her lips curling into a look of absolute disgust.

"It looks cheap on you," Danae said, her voice a flat, icy blade.

Jordyn's fake smile vanished. The muscles in her face twitched.

Jordyn took a step closer, dropping her voice to a vicious hiss. "Don't think you can just show up with a new title and steal him back. He's mine."

Danae didn't back away. She stepped forward, using her two inches of height to look down directly into Jordyn's eyes.

"I don't recycle trash," Danae whispered.

Jordyn's face flushed dark red. Her hands balled into tight fists, her manicured nails biting into her palms.

Danae picked up her handbag. She turned her back on Jordyn and started walking toward the door.

Jordyn let out a frustrated growl. She lunged forward, her hand shooting out to grab Danae's shoulder.

Danae saw the movement in the mirror. She sidestepped violently to the right.

Jordyn's hand grasped empty air. Her silver stiletto slipped on a drop of water on the marble floor.

Jordyn pitched forward, her arms flailing as she stumbled hard, barely catching herself on the edge of the sink to keep from eating the tile.

Danae stopped at the door. She looked back at the pathetic display and let out a single, cold scoff.

She pushed the brass door open and walked out.

Danae marched down the thick carpet of the hotel corridor, her pace aggressive as she headed straight for the elevator banks. She needed to get out of this building.

"Danae! Wait!"

Jordyn's voice echoed down the hall, artificially pitched up into a desperate, trembling whine.

Danae ignored her. She reached the elevators and slammed her palm against the call button.

Footsteps rushed up behind her. Jordyn's hand clamped down hard around Danae's left wrist.

Danae stopped. She turned her head, her eyes narrowing with pure irritation. "Let go of me."

Jordyn's acrylic nails dug painfully into Danae's skin, leaving crescent-shaped indentations. But Jordyn wasn't looking at Danae. Her eyes were fixed on the far end of the hallway.

Danae followed her gaze.

Coming around the corner was Adrian, flanked by his executive assistant.

The moment Adrian was in clear view, Jordyn turned back to Danae. A sickening, triumphant smile stretched across Jordyn's face.

Then, Jordyn let go of Danae's wrist.

Jordyn threw her own body backward. She launched herself through the air like a ragdoll.

Her back slammed violently into a heavy wooden display pedestal against the wall. The impact echoed loudly down the corridor.

Jordyn slid to the floor. She curled into the fetal position, clutching her flat stomach, and let out a blood-curdling, agonizing scream.

Adrian's head snapped up.

He dropped the leather folder in his hands. The papers scattered across the floor.

"Jordyn!" Adrian roared.

He sprinted down the hallway, his heavy shoes pounding against the floorboards beneath the carpet.

Danae stood frozen in shock, staring down at the woman writhing on the floor.

Adrian reached them. He didn't slow down. He dropped his shoulder and rammed his body full-force into Danae.

The impact knocked the breath out of her lungs. Danae flew backward, her spine crashing brutally against the cold steel doors of the elevator. Pain radiated down her ribs.

Adrian dropped to his knees. His hands were shaking violently as he pulled Jordyn into his chest.

"She pushed me!" Jordyn sobbed, burying her face in Adrian's neck. "Adrian, my stomach! It hurts so much!"

Adrian's head whipped around. The look in his eyes wasn't just anger; it was pure, unadulterated murder. The muscle in his jaw ticked so hard it looked like the bone might snap.

"You vicious monster," Adrian snarled, his voice vibrating with rage.

Danae rubbed her bruised shoulder, standing up straight. "She threw herself backward. It's an act."

Jordyn let out another pathetic whimper, her fingers digging into Adrian's shirt.

Adrian's eyes went completely feral. He slid his arms under Jordyn's knees and back, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. He held her tight against his chest.

He turned his head to the two hotel security guards who had just run up to the scene.

"Detain her," Adrian ordered, pointing his chin at Danae. "Do not let her out of your sight."

The two massive guards stepped forward. They boxed Danae in, crossing their arms over their chests.

Danae watched Adrian carry Jordyn away, his face pale with panic.

A cold, heavy stone settled in Danae's stomach. When she was in labor, dying on a hospital bed, he hadn't even answered the phone. Now, he was ready to kill for a woman with a scraped elbow.

The betrayal froze the blood in her veins. She lowered her hands, her face turning to stone, and let the guards escort her toward the medical wing.