Harsh, bright sunlight stabbed through the gap in the curtains, hitting Adelia directly in the eyes.

She groaned, her face twisting in pain. A massive headache pounded against her skull. The leftover drugs and alcohol made her brain feel like it was stuffed with cotton. It took her several seconds to force her eyes open.

She was lying in a massive bed with dark grey leather panels. The silk sheets were violently tangled around her legs.

She shot up into a sitting position.

The duvet slipped down to her waist. She looked down at her chest. Her collarbones and shoulders were covered in dark red marks. Long, angry scratches-left by Axel's fingernails when he tried to push her away-marked her skin.

She looked at the floor. Her custom dress lay in a heap. The zipper was busted. The delicate lace at the hem was ripped. It looked like someone had torn it off her body.

Flashes of memory slammed into her brain. Hot breath against her neck. A desperate kiss. A man's broad, muscular shoulders pinning her down.

Adelia gasped. She slapped both hands over her mouth. A wave of pure, sickening humiliation crashed over her.

She believed she had slept with him. She believed she had used Coleman's uncle for revenge.

She scrambled out of the bed. Her legs gave out instantly. She crashed to her knees on the thick rug. Her entire body ached, a deep, unfamiliar soreness settling in her bones. Bruises were already forming on her wrists and shoulders, dark marks against her pale skin, cementing the lie in her mind.

Her hands shook violently as she grabbed her torn dress. She pulled it over her head, trying to force the broken zipper up. The metal teeth ground together with a harsh, scraping sound.

The bedroom door opened.

Axel walked in. He was wearing a razor-sharp navy blue suit. He held a cup of black coffee in his hand.

His eyes swept over her messy hair and torn clothes. His face was a mask of pure ice. There was absolutely zero emotion in his grey-blue eyes. He looked at her like the kiss had never happened.

Adelia jumped back like she had been burned. She scrambled behind the thick wooden bedpost, pulling the duvet off the bed to cover her exposed legs.

Axel set the coffee cup down on the glass table. The ceramic clinked loudly.

"Wake up," he said. His voice was freezing.

He reached into his suit pocket, pulled out a brand new iPhone, and tossed it onto the mattress. "Your screen was shattered at the hospital," he stated, offering no further explanation. The phone bounced once and slid right to her trembling hand.

"Coleman contacted the press an hour ago," Axel stated coldly. "He announced an indefinite postponement of your engagement."

The words sliced right through Adelia's eardrums. She snapped her head up, staring at Axel's emotionless face in absolute shock.

Axel did not offer a single word of comfort. He turned his back to her and walked toward the door.

"You have ten minutes to get out of my suite," he ordered.

The heavy door slammed shut behind him.

Adelia stared at the closed door. The dam broke. Hot tears spilled over her eyelashes, dropping onto the back of her hands.

She felt disgusting. She felt like a joke. Her fiancé had publicly humiliated her for another woman, and she had woken up in his uncle's bed, only to be thrown out like trash.

She moved with frantic speed. She pulled the torn dress together as best as she could. She grabbed Axel's black overcoat from the chair and wrapped it tightly around her body, hiding her shame.

She snatched the new phone. She didn't even put her heels on properly. She ran out of the bedroom, sprinting through the empty suite.

She hit the hallway and mashed her finger against the elevator button. Her knuckles were white. The doors opened, and she threw herself inside.

When she reached the lobby, the morning rush had started. Wealthy socialites sipping lattes stopped and stared openly at her bare legs and messy hair.

Adelia dropped her chin to her chest. She buried her face deep into the collar of the heavy coat and power-walked toward the revolving glass doors.

She burst out onto the sidewalk. The freezing autumn air hit her lungs. She stood on the curb, completely lost.

A yellow cab pulled up. The driver slammed his hand on the horn. The loud blare made her jump.

She ripped the back door open and slid onto the sticky vinyl seat.

"Central Park West," she told the driver, giving her best friend Audrey's address.

The cab jerked forward. Adelia leaned her head against the dirty window, watching the buildings fly by. She bit down on her lip so hard she tasted blood, refusing to let herself sob out loud.

She pressed the power button on the new phone.

A dozen news alerts instantly flooded the screen. The top headline read: Cooper Heir Spends Night at Hospital with First Love. Century Wedding in Doubt.

The yellow cab jerked to a halt outside a luxury high-rise on Central Park West. Adelia tapped the new phone against the payment terminal and pushed the door open.

She pressed the buzzer for Audrey Finch's penthouse.

A minute later, the heavy door swung open. Audrey stood there in a pair of emerald green silk pajamas. When she saw Adelia's torn dress and smeared makeup, she sucked in a sharp breath.

Audrey grabbed Adelia's arm, yanked her inside, and slammed the door shut, locking out the world.

Adelia dropped the heavy black coat onto the floor. She collapsed onto the soft beige velvet sofa. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking violently as the sobs finally ripped through her chest.

Audrey didn't ask a single question. She walked to the kitchen, poured a mug of hot chamomile tea, and pressed it directly into Adelia's freezing hands. The heat from the ceramic mug slowly thawed Adelia's numb fingers.

Adelia took a slow sip. The warm liquid coated her raw throat. In a raspy, broken voice, she told Audrey about the hospital window. About Coleman holding Elia's hand.

"He postponed the wedding," Adelia whispered.

Audrey grabbed a thick fashion magazine off the coffee table and hurled it across the room. It smashed against the wall. "He is a blind, pathetic bastard!" Audrey yelled.

Adelia's hands started shaking again. She stared down at her tea. She confessed what happened at The Mark Hotel. She left out Axel's name, calling him a stranger.

Audrey's eyes went wide. She immediately sat down and wrapped her arms tightly around Adelia, pulling her into a fierce hug.

After the tears stopped, Adelia leaned back against the cushions. Her eyes were dead, staring blankly at the dying brown leaves on the trees in Central Park outside the window.

Audrey let out a heavy sigh. "This is all because of Aspen. That damn mountain."

The word Aspen triggered a violent flashback. Adelia squeezed her eyes shut.

The sound of howling wind roared in her ears. She remembered the blinding white snow. She remembered dropping to her knees, digging through the ice with her bare hands. Her fingernails snapping off. The blood freezing to her skin as she dragged a crushing, dead weight out of the avalanche crater. The absolute terror of the freezing temperature seeping into her core. She remembered the agonizing hours in the snow, sacrificing her own warmth to keep death at bay. The extreme cold had permanently damaged her nerves, leaving her with severe Raynaud's syndrome.

Audrey grabbed Adelia's cold hand. "This is all because of Aspen. That damn mountain. What Elia and the Tates did to you after that... they made you carry their cross, and for what? For him?"

Adelia let out a hollow, bitter laugh. "The Tate family told me to keep my mouth shut. I'm just the adopted orphan. Elia is the real blood. They needed the Cooper money."

She remembered standing outside the ICU. Coleman had opened his eyes and looked straight at Elia, calling her his savior.

Audrey stood up and paced across the Persian rug. "How much longer are you going to carry this cross for them, Adelia? How much more of your blood do they get to drink?"

The question hit Adelia like a physical blow. She looked down at her hands. Faint, white scars lined her knuckles from the frostbite.

She took a deep breath. The dead look in her eyes vanished. A cold, hard fire ignited in her pupils.

She slammed the tea mug down onto the glass table. The loud crack echoed in the room.

"I'm done," Adelia said. "I am done being their punching bag."

She stood up and walked straight to the floor-to-length mirror in the hallway. She stared at the woman with red, swollen eyes and a broken posture.

"Give me clothes," Adelia demanded.

Ten minutes later, she walked out of the guest bedroom wearing a razor-sharp, white Tom Ford power suit. She had used heavy concealer to hide the red marks on her neck. She painted her lips a dark, blood-red.

The broken girl was gone. A soldier stood in her place.

Audrey leaned against the doorframe, a proud smirk on her face. She tossed a set of Porsche keys through the air.

Adelia caught the keys flawlessly. The cold metal pressed into her palm, giving her a sudden surge of control.

She picked up her phone and dialed Coleman's private number. It rang twice before he sent it straight to voicemail.

Adelia smiled coldly. She waited for the beep.

"I will be at the penthouse in thirty minutes," she said to the recording. "If you aren't there, I will burn your clothes on the balcony."

She hung up and walked out the door.