The heavy paper cup hit the bottom of the metal trash can with a dull thud.

Elease didn't pause for a single second. She turned on her heel and walked away, her strides long and purposeful as she headed straight for the elevator at the end of the hall.

Inside the office, Brogan violently pushed Kori off his lap. He stood up so fast his chair hit the wall. He strode to the door and yanked it open, but the hallway was already completely empty.

In the descending elevator, Elease stared down at the angry red burn blistering on the back of her hand. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped the spilled coffee off her skin, rubbing so hard it felt like she was trying to scrub away the disgusting image she had just witnessed.

The elevator doors opened on the Human Resources floor.

Elease walked with absolute authority. She didn't knock. She pushed open the glass door to Julian's office and marched right in.

Julian was leaning back in his chair, talking on his headset. He jumped when the door slammed against the wall. He frowned deeply, covering the microphone with his hand, and aggressively shooed her away.

Elease ignored him. She slammed her resignation letter down onto the center of his desk. The smack of paper against wood was loud as a gunshot.

Julian hastily ripped his headset off. He glanced at the letter, his face turning red with anger.

"Absolutely not. I told you, all personnel changes are frozen during the CEO transition," Julian snapped, sliding the paper back toward her.

Elease planted both hands flat on his desk. She leaned forward, invading his space.

"I have four months of accumulated PTO. I am taking it starting right now," Elease stated, her voice cold and absolute.

She pulled out her phone, opened the Walton HR portal, and tapped the screen.

"I just submitted the mandatory leave request. This isn't a negotiation, Julian. It's a notification," Elease said, staring dead into his eyes.

Julian slammed his fist on the desk.

"If you walk out that door, I will have legal slap you with a massive breach of contract lawsuit. You'll be ruined!" he threatened, his spit flying.

Hearing the word 'ruined', Elease actually laughed. The sound was harsh and entirely devoid of humor.

She was suffering. Her heart felt like it was rotting in her chest from the endless psychological torment. Did he really think she gave a damn about bankruptcy?

Elease reached up and unclipped her Walton Group employee badge. She pulled her desk key off her keychain. She threw both items directly at Julian's chest.

She turned around and walked out of the office.

The entire bullpen of HR employees was staring at her in stunned silence. Elease ignored them all. She kept her chin high and walked straight toward the exit.

"Elease! Get back here!" Julian screamed from his doorway.

Elease didn't even turn her head.

She pushed through the heavy glass doors of the Walton Group building and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The midday New York sun hit her face, blindingly bright. For the first time in five years, she felt a strange, intoxicating rush of freedom.

She took a deep breath of the exhaust-filled city air. She pulled out her phone and permanently blocked Brogan and Nolan's numbers.

She put her phone away and stepped off the curb to cross the street toward the subway.

Suddenly, the roar of a massive engine tore through the street. A matte black Mercedes G63 swerved toward the curb and slammed on its brakes, stopping less than two feet from Elease's legs.

Elease gasped, stumbling backward. Her heart gave a painful, erratic thump as adrenaline flooded her system. She stared at the aggressive, military-grade vehicle in shock.

The heavy driver's side door swung open.

Antwan Stanton stepped out. He was a notorious fringe member of the Stanton family, a ruthless playboy who despised Brogan and made it his life's mission to humiliate the Walton patriarch by claiming his discarded territories-and his discarded women. A predatory, arrogant smirk was plastered across his face.

Antwan ignored the honking traffic behind him. He walked straight up to Elease, using his massive height to completely trap her in his shadow.

"Elease," Antwan purred, his voice thick with amusement. "Congratulations on finally getting thrown out by that hypocritical dog, Brogan."

Elease's stomach churned with disgust. She didn't want to deal with this psycho. She stepped to the side, trying to walk around him.

Antwan's hand shot out. His large fingers wrapped around her wrist like a steel vice, squeezing so hard the bones in her arm ground together.

"Let go of me!" Elease cried out, the physical pain shooting up her arm. She yanked her arm, but he didn't budge. "Let go, or I'm screaming for the cops!"

Instead of letting go, Antwan yanked her forward. He slammed her body hard against the side of his G63.

He leaned down, his mouth hovering inches from her ear. He whispered something so graphically vile and degrading that Elease's blood ran cold.

A wave of pure nausea hit her. Elease raised her free hand and swung it as hard as she could toward his face.

Antwan easily caught her wrist mid-air, though the force of her struggle made him stumble slightly. He pressed his body weight fully against hers, pinning her against the hot metal of the car. The overwhelming smell of expensive cigars and aggressive male pheromones made Elease choke.

Panic seized her chest. Her heart started to palpitate wildly.

Just as Elease thought she was going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, she looked over Antwan's broad shoulder.

Parked on the opposite side of the street, idling silently, was a familiar black Maybach.

Elease's spine was pressed painfully against the hot metal door of the G63. Trapped beneath Antwan's crushing weight, she stared desperately over his shoulder at the black Maybach idling across the avenue.

The rear passenger window of the Maybach was rolled down halfway.

Brogan was sitting in the shadows of the backseat. His sharp, cold eyes cut straight through the chaotic New York traffic, locked directly onto Elease.

A sudden, desperate surge of hope flared in Elease's chest. She stopped fighting Antwan's grip. She looked at Brogan, her eyes wide, silently begging him for help.

Antwan felt her body go still. He followed her line of sight across the street. When he saw Brogan sitting in the Maybach, Antwan let out a loud, mocking whistle.

Antwan deliberately lowered his head, burying his face into the curve of Elease's neck. He pressed his body closer, creating an illusion of extreme, consensual intimacy for Brogan to witness.

Elease gagged. She twisted her neck violently to get away from Antwan's mouth, her eyes still glued to the Maybach.

Get out of the car, she prayed silently. Please, Brogan. Just get out of the car.

Across the noisy, crowded street, Brogan's face was a mask of pure ice. He watched Elease writhing in his worst enemy's arms. A flash of profound disgust twisted his features.

Under Elease's desperate, pleading gaze, Brogan didn't reach for the door handle.

Instead, Brogan slowly raised his hand and pressed the button on his armrest.

The thick, black tinted glass of the Maybach began to rise. It moved up smoothly, a cold, mechanical guillotine severing Elease's last thread of hope.

The Maybach smoothly pulled away from the curb, merging into the traffic without a single second of hesitation.

The moment the black window sealed shut, something inside Elease's chest physically snapped. The agonizing pain in her heart was eclipsed by the total, shattering destruction of her soul.

A massive surge of adrenaline flooded her trembling body. Her hand slid down to her coat pocket. With a blind, desperate flick of her thumb, she rapidly clicked the power button on her phone five times, triggering the silent emergency SOS ping directly to Brianna's phone.

Catching Antwan completely off guard, Elease lunged her head forward and sank her teeth viciously into the exposed flesh of his wrist.

Antwan let out a harsh grunt of pain. His grip loosened for a fraction of a second as he instinctively recoiled from the sharp bite.

Elease didn't hesitate. She shoved him away, spun around, and sprinted toward the crowded subway entrance like a hunted animal.

Antwan didn't chase her. He leaned against the door of his G63, rubbing his bleeding wrist. He watched her disappear down the concrete stairs, the dark obsession in his eyes burning hotter than before.

He snapped his fingers.

The driver's side window rolled down. Mark O'Connell, Antwan's personal fixer, looked out.

"Find out exactly where that bitch is sleeping tonight," Antwan ordered, his voice low and lethal. "I'm taking her."

Elease ran down the subway stairs, her lungs burning like they were filled with acid. She swiped her card and pushed through the turnstile, finally collapsing against the cold tile wall of the platform.

The bruises on her wrists from Antwan's grip were already turning a sickening shade of purple. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like a bird trapped in a cage, slamming against her ribs.

Her legs gave out. She slid down the wall and hit the dirty floor.

Her hands shook violently as she dug the pill bottle out of her bag. She dry-swallowed three pills, choking on the bitter chalk. People walking by gave her weird looks, but she didn't care.

As the medication slowly forced her heart rate down, Elease pulled out her phone. She stared at Brogan's name in her blocked list.

Tears finally spilled over her eyelashes, running silently down her cheeks.

She wasn't crying because he left her. She was crying because she had wasted five years of her life loving a man who would watch her get assaulted in broad daylight and roll his window up.

Elease wiped her face aggressively. She stood up, her eyes completely dead, and boarded the train to Brooklyn.

When she unlocked the door to Brianna's apartment, it was empty. Brianna had left a sticky note on the counter saying she was pulled in for a double night shift at the hospital.

Elease locked the deadbolt. She walked through the tiny apartment and pulled every single curtain shut, sealing herself inside the dark box.

She stripped off the expensive corporate clothes and put on an oversized, faded t-shirt. She curled up on the sofa, pulling a thin blanket over her head.

By nightfall, the intense psychosomatic symptoms of her trauma triggered a low-grade fever.

The Brooklyn streets outside grew loud and chaotic. Sirens wailed in the distance, mixing with the barking of stray dogs.

Elease lay shivering violently under the blanket, drifting in and out of a painful, feverish delirium, groaning softly as her chest ached.

At 11:00 PM, an unmarked black sedan pulled up to the curb outside the apartment building.

Mark sat in the driver's seat, looking up at the dark window on the third floor. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

"I have the address," Mark reported.

On the other end of the line, Antwan let out a low, sadistic laugh.