Candi stared at Katarina, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Katarina said. Her voice was calm, which made it terrifying. "You've spent five years feeding on my misery. Now, you can feed on the evidence."

Katarina moved. It was a blur. One hand shot out and gripped Candi's jaw, forcing it open with a strength that shocked the onlookers. With the other hand, she shoved the crumpled ball of photos into Candi's mouth.

"Eat," Katarina hissed.

Candi gagged. She clawed at Katarina's hand, but it was like clawing at iron. Katarina held her there for three agonizing seconds, letting the humiliation sink into Candi's bones.

Then she released her.

Candi fell back, spitting out the wet paper, coughing and retching. Her mascara ran down her face. She looked ruined.

"You maniac!" Elena, Candi's mother, shrieked, rushing forward. "I'm calling the police!"

"Call them," Katarina said, wiping her hand on a napkin she plucked from a passing waiter's tray. "I'd love to show them the forensic accounting of what you've done to my trust fund."

Francis stepped in, grabbing Elena's arm. "Quiet, Elena." He turned to Katarina, a greasy smile plastered on his face. "Katarina, let's not make a scene. We are family. Come to the study."

He gestured to the bodyguards to clear a path.

Katarina threw the napkin on the floor. "Fine."

She walked to the study, her heels clicking a death march. Francis, Elena, Candi (still sobbing), and Auston followed.

Inside the mahogany-paneled study, Francis closed the door.

"You look... healthy," Francis said, sitting behind his desk. "Investable."

"Cut the crap, Francis," Katarina said, leaning against the doorframe. "I want my mother's shares. I want the DreamLeaf patent rights. And I want full access to my trust."

Francis chuckled. He pulled a document from a drawer. "You get nothing. Unless..." He slid the paper across the desk. "You sign this. It reinstates you into the family. It gives you a monthly allowance. And it betroths you to Auston."

Auston stepped forward, adjusting his tie. He looked at Katarina like a prize horse. "It's a good deal, Kat. We were good together. And look at you now. You're finally worthy of the Mcmahon name."

Katarina looked at Auston. She looked at the contract.

She walked over to the desk. She picked up the contract.

"Worthy?" she repeated.

She ripped the paper in half. Then in quarters. She let the confetti rain down on Francis's desk.

"I don't want an allowance," Katarina said. "I want it all. And as for you, Auston... I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth and I was ovulating."

Francis's face turned purple. "You ungrateful brat! You think you can walk in here and dictate terms? You have no power! You are nothing but a discarded vessel!"

He slammed his hand on a button under his desk. Two large security guards entered from a side door.

"Escort her to the basement," Francis ordered. "She stays there until she signs a new copy."

The guards moved toward her. Big men. Slow men.

The first one reached for her arm.

Katarina didn't retreat. She stepped into his space. She grabbed his wrist, twisting her hips to generate torque, and drove her elbow into his solar plexus with a sickening thud. It was a military-grade takedown, executed with the precision of a surgeon.

The man folded like a lawn chair.

The second guard swung a fist. Katarina ducked, sweeping his leg out from under him. As he fell, she didn't just let gravity do the work; she delivered a controlled kick to his temple to ensure he stayed down.

It took five seconds.

Katarina stood over them, not even breathing hard. She adjusted her dress.

The silence in the room was absolute. Auston looked terrified and aroused. Francis stared at her, his eyes narrowing. He looked from the unconscious guards to his daughter's relaxed stance. Where had the fat, wheezing girl learned to fight like a mercenary?

"I see you've been busy," Francis murmured, a new layer of caution in his voice.

"I learned a few things while I was away," Katarina said.

Candi, huddled in a chair, found her voice. It was shrill and venomous.

"You're just a thug!" Candi screamed. "A thug with a bastard child! Where is it? Did it die? Or did you throw it away like trash?"

Katarina froze. The air in the room dropped ten degrees.

She turned her head slowly toward Candi. Her eyes were black pits.

"What did you say?"

"I said," Candi sneered, emboldened by her own stupidity, "where is the little bastard?"

Katarina moved. She crossed the room in a blink. She grabbed Candi by the throat and pinned her against the bookshelf. Books tumbled down, hitting Candi on the head.

"Mention my child again," Katarina whispered, her face inches from Candi's, "and I will dismantle you. Bone by bone."

---

"Kat!" Bella's voice came from the hallway door, panicked. "Stop! You'll kill her!"

Katarina blinked. The red haze in her vision cleared slightly. She looked at Candi's bulging eyes. She wasn't worth the prison time.

She released her grip.

Candi slid down the bookshelf, gasping for air, clutching her throat.

Francis grabbed his heavy wooden cane and raised it. "You animal!" He swung it at Katarina's head.

Katarina didn't flinch. She caught the cane mid-swing with one hand. The impact stung her palm, but she didn't show it.

She looked her father in the eye. "You used to hit me with this when I was twelve. When I was too slow. Too fat."

She gripped the wood with both hands and snapped it over her knee.

CRACK.

She threw the pieces at his feet.

"I'm not twelve anymore, Francis."

She turned and walked out of the study. Auston scrambled out of her way, pressing himself against the wall.

Katarina marched through the ballroom. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. No one spoke. They just stared at the goddess of war passing through.

She walked out the front door, down the steps. The cool night air hit her flushed skin. Her hands were shaking. Not from fear, but from the adrenaline crash.

A black SUV pulled up. Solo.

She got in. "Drive."

Inside the car, she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. "Did you get the data?"

"While you were putting on a show, I hacked their local server," Solo said from the front seat. "We have the ledger. Francis has been embezzling from the trust for years."

"Good," Katarina whispered. "Burn him."

They drove back to the city in silence.

When they reached the St. Regis, Katarina felt heavy. Her bones ached. She just wanted to hold Kaylee.

She entered the elevator. Just as the doors were closing, a hand stopped them.

Dimitri Shaffer stepped in.

Katarina groaned internally. Of all the people. Of all the times.

The doors closed, sealing them in the small, mirrored box.

Dimitri stood with his hands in his pockets, looking straight ahead. He smelled of cedar and expensive scotch.

"I hear you had an eventful evening," Dimitri said. His voice was low, vibrating in the small space.

"News travels fast," Katarina muttered, leaning against the rail. She was too tired to fight.

"Assault. Property damage. Threats." Dimitri turned his head to look at her. His eyes swept over her disheveled hair, the redness on her neck where adrenaline had flushed her skin. "You are a chaotic woman, Ms. Acosta."

"And you are a judgmental prick, Mr. Shaffer," she shot back.

Dimitri stepped closer. He invaded her personal space. He loomed over her.

"I don't care what you do to your family," he said. "But I meant what I said last night. Stay away from my son. I saw you in the hallway. I know what you are."

"What am I?" Katarina challenged, looking up at him.

"A gold digger," Dimitri said coldly. "A woman who uses her body and her drama to trap men. I won't let you use my son as a pawn to get to me."

Katarina felt a laugh bubble up in her chest. It was hysterical.

"Get to you?" She poked him in the chest with a manicured finger. "Shaffer, you have nothing I want. Your money? I have my own. Your power? I'm building mine. Your personality? It sucks."

Dimitri looked down at her finger on his chest. He looked surprised. Most women trembled when he got this close. Katarina looked bored.

"And as for your son," she added, her voice softening involuntarily. "He deserves better than a father who thinks everyone is out to get him."

The elevator dinged. Penthouse floor.

Katarina pushed past him. "Goodnight, neighbor."

She walked down the hall.

Dimitri stood in the elevator for a moment before stepping out. He touched his chest where she had poked him. It burned.

---

"Mommy?" Kaylee sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. "You smell like ozone. Did you explode something?"

"Metaphorically," Katarina said, kissing her forehead. "Go back to sleep."

In the suite next door, Dimitri sat in his office chair. His tie was undone. He was watching the security footage from the hallway again.

He watched Katarina hug Draven. He watched the way she shielded him from the guards.

"She's a good actress," he muttered to himself. But there was a doubt gnawing at him. Draven never let anyone touch him. Not even the nannies. Why her?

Draven was sitting on the floor, playing with a set of magnetic blocks. He was building a complex structure.

"Draven," Dimitri said. "Why did you let her hold you?"

Draven didn't answer. He placed a red block on top of the tower.

Dimitri sighed. He turned to his computer. "Lars, get me everything on Katarina Acosta. The last five years. There's a gap. I want to know where she was."

Suddenly, his screen flickered. A skull and crossbones appeared in pixelated green.

"Sir!" Lars's voice came over the intercom. "Someone is bouncing a signal off our server. They're trying to mask an IP address."

"Who?"

"It's... it's coming from the suite next door."

Dimitri's eyes narrowed. "Katarina?"

"I don't know, sir. The encryption is military grade. It's... it looks like the signature of the hacker 'Ghost'."

"Or," Dimitri said, standing up, "it's a woman trying to spy on me."

Next door, Kaylee was typing furiously on her tablet under the covers.

"Oops," she whispered. "Almost got caught."

"Kaylee, lights out!" Katarina called from the bathroom.

"Yes, Mommy!"

The next morning, Katarina dragged herself to the hotel buffet. She needed coffee. Intravenously.

Kaylee skipped ahead to the dessert section.

"Can I have a donut?"

"Protein first, sugar later," Katarina said, piling eggs onto a plate.

Kaylee ignored her and beelined for the donut tower. She reached for the last strawberry frosted one.

Another hand reached for it at the same time.

Kaylee looked up. Draven looked down.

They froze.

It was daylight. No shadows. No sleepiness. They stood face to face.

It was like looking in a mirror.

Kaylee's eyes went wide. "Whoa."

Draven stared at her. He blinked. He slowly pushed the donut toward her.

"Thanks!" Kaylee beamed. "I'm Kaylee."

Draven didn't speak, but the corner of his mouth twitched. A tiny, almost invisible smile.

"Draven!"

Dimitri marched across the restaurant. He looked like a thundercloud in a polo shirt. He grabbed Draven's hand and pulled him back.

"I told you not to bother them," Dimitri growled at Kaylee.

"Hey!" Katarina slammed her coffee cup down. It spilled. She didn't care. She marched over. "Don't you dare yell at my daughter."

"Then keep her away from my son," Dimitri snapped. "She's harassing him."

"He gave her a donut!" Katarina shouted. "Are you blind? Look at them!"

She pointed at the kids.

Draven was waving at Kaylee. Kaylee was waving back.

Dimitri looked at them. He saw the resemblance. The dark hair. The eyes.

"She looks like him," Dimitri said, his voice losing some of its edge.

"Coincidence," Katarina said quickly. Too quickly. "Kids look alike."

"It's uncanny," Dimitri murmured. He looked at Katarina. "Did you clone yourself?"

"Funny," she deadpanned. "Come on, Kaylee. We're eating in the room. The air here is toxic."

She grabbed Kaylee's hand and stormed off.

Dimitri watched them go. He looked down at Draven. Draven was looking at his hand, the one that had touched Kaylee's. He looked... happy.

"Lars," Dimitri said into his phone. "Forget the background check. Find out who the father of that girl is."

---