The afternoon sun was hidden behind thick gray clouds. Mrs. Wallace walked into the guest room carrying a tray of clear broth and steamed vegetables. She placed a brand-new, black smartphone next to the bowl.

Mrs. Wallace smiled kindly. She told Tina that Mr. Santiago left the phone for her. She said it was fully encrypted and had all the necessary numbers saved inside.

Tina picked up the phone. Her fingers felt weak. She immediately dialed the private number of her best friend, Orlaith Regan.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. Orlaith's voice came through the speaker, loud and panicked. She screamed Tina's name, asking where she was and if she was alive.

Hearing Orlaith's voice made Tina's chest ache. Her eyes burned. She swallowed hard and forced her voice to stay steady. She said she was safe.

Orlaith let out a loud breath, then her voice turned furious. She told Tina that Cathi was destroying her name. Cathi had sent out a press release to the entire New York social circle.

Orlaith said Cathi claimed Tina was caught stealing family jewels. The statement said Tina was officially disowned and kicked out for being a thief.

Orlaith added that the tabloids were already running stories calling Tina a degenerate who slept around and did drugs.

Tina's hand clamped down on the phone. Her fingernails dug into her palm until the skin turned white. A hot, burning anger spread through her veins.

She took a deep breath. She told Orlaith to stay calm. She promised she was going to make Cathi and Felicia choke on every single lie they told.

Tina hung up the phone. The adrenaline left her body all at once. The physical trauma and the mental exhaustion crashed into her. The room started to spin.

She dropped the phone on the bed. She fell back onto the pillows. A violent shiver ran through her body. Her teeth began to chatter. Her vision went completely black.

At six o'clock, Ingram walked out of the Santiago Corp boardroom. He got into his private elevator and headed straight to the penthouse.

He walked through the front door and pulled at his tie, loosening the knot. He handed his jacket to Mrs. Wallace and immediately asked about Tina.

Mrs. Wallace looked worried. She wrung her hands together. She said Tina made a phone call and then fell asleep. She said she went in to check on her and the girl was burning up with a fever.

Ingram's face turned hard. He walked past the housekeeper with long, fast strides. He pushed the guest room door open.

The main lights were off. Only a small lamp on the nightstand cast a dim yellow glow over the bed.

Tina was curled into a tight ball under the heavy blanket. Her body was shaking violently. Her face was flushed bright red, and sweat coated her forehead.

Ingram walked to the edge of the bed. He reached out and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. Her skin was dangerously hot. His jaw clenched tight.

He hit the intercom button on the wall. He barked an order, telling the medical team to get upstairs right now.

While he waited, Ingram walked into the bathroom. He grabbed a clean white towel and ran it under warm water. He wrung it out and walked back to the bed.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress. His movements were stiff, but he gently pressed the damp towel against her hot skin, wiping the sweat from her face.

The high fever pulled Tina into a nightmare. Her eyebrows pulled together tightly. She started tossing her head from side to side.

She started to mumble. Her voice was broken and full of pain. She kept begging someone not to take her mother away.

Ingram felt a sharp pain in his chest. It was a physical ache. His eyes darkened with a violent need to protect her.

Suddenly, Tina's arm shot out from under the blanket. Her small, hot hand grabbed Ingram's wrist.

Her grip was weak, but she held on like she was drowning. She pulled his hand down and pressed her burning cheek directly into his palm.

Ingram's entire body froze. He had a severe aversion to physical touch. He hated people being in his space. But right now, he did not want to pull away.

Julian rushed into the room carrying his medical bag. He stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at Ingram sitting on the bed, letting a woman hold his hand against her face. Julian almost dropped his bag.

Ingram shot Julian a deadly glare. He did not say a word, but his eyes clearly told the doctor to shut up and do his job. He nodded toward the medical bag.

Julian quickly prepared a syringe. He injected the fever reducer into Tina's IV line.

After a few minutes, the medicine started to work. Tina's breathing slowed down. Her shivering stopped. But her hands stayed tightly wrapped around Ingram's fingers.

Julian packed his bag quietly. He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him without making a sound.

The room was completely silent. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the soft sound of Tina breathing.

Ingram did not pull his hand away. He adjusted his position on the bed. He wrapped his large fingers around her small hand. He sat there in the dim light and did not move.

The sun started to rise. The morning light hit Ingram's face. He looked tired, but his eyes were wide awake. He stared down at the sleeping girl, his gaze deep and possessive.

A full week passed. The fever finally broke, though the sharp, stabbing pain in her fractured ribs still flared with every deep breath. She stood alone in the massive walk-in closet of the guest room.

She stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her face was pale, but her eyes were sharp and hard. She thought about the lies Cathi spread. She thought about Aidan's blood in the mud.

She reached onto the vanity and picked up a pair of heavy silver scissors. She grabbed her long, dark hair in one hand. Without blinking, she sliced the blades through the thick strands. She cut it all off until it fell just above her shoulders.

Mrs. Wallace pushed the door open, carrying a tray of breakfast. She saw the hair on the floor and froze in shock.

She turned around. Her face was completely calm. She looked at the housekeeper and said the weak girl named Tina died in the rain.

She stated her true name clearly. "From today on, there is only Evelena Valenzuela." She said she was reclaiming her birthright and would use her real name to take back everything that belonged to her.

That afternoon, Evelena decided she needed to leave the apartment. She needed clothes that fit her new identity.

Ingram was at the office. When Mrs. Wallace called him, he immediately dispatched two plainclothes security contractors to follow Evelena from a distance.

Evelena put on a pair of dark sunglasses and a simple black trench coat. She walked into a high-end luxury mall on Fifth Avenue.

She walked into a French couture boutique she used to visit with her mother. The saleswoman at the front immediately recognized her face.

The saleswoman remembered the tabloid articles. Her polite smile vanished. She looked Evelena up and down with obvious disgust and crossed her arms.

Evelena ignored the look. She walked straight toward a rack in the center of the store. She reached out to touch a deep blue velvet evening gown.

Before her fingers brushed the fabric, another hand shot out and yanked the dress away. The hand had bright red, acrylic nails.

A loud, annoying laugh filled the store. Felicia Roberts stepped out from behind the rack. She was wearing a tight designer dress and tapping her high heels loudly against the marble floor.

Felicia looked at Evelena's chopped hair. She laughed louder. She told Evelena she looked like a homeless rat sleeping on the subway.

Evelena endured the sharp ache in her ribs, refusing to show weakness. She did not look away. She did not shrink back. She stared directly into Felicia's eyes. Her gaze was as cold as ice.

Felicia felt a chill run down her arms. She hated that look. She wanted to humiliate her. She raised her voice so everyone in the store could hear.

Felicia yelled at the saleswoman. She asked why they let a known thief into the store. She said Evelena was kicked out of her family for stealing.

The wealthy women shopping in the store stopped. They turned around and started whispering. They pointed their manicured fingers at Evelena.

The saleswoman rushed over. She smiled apologetically at Felicia. Then she turned to Evelena and harshly told her to leave the premises immediately.

Evelena let out a short, cold laugh. She crossed her arms over her chest. She took one step closer to Felicia, invading her space.

She leaned in and spoke in a low voice. She told Felicia that no matter how much expensive trash she wore, she still smelled like a cheap, desperate gold digger.

Felicia's face turned bright red. Her eyes widened in fury. She raised her hand and swung it hard, aiming for Evelena's face.

Evelena was ready. Her hand shot up. She grabbed Felicia's wrist mid-air, ignoring the agonizing flare of pain shooting through her own broken ribs. She squeezed hard and twisted the joint sharply to the side, using pure willpower to fuel her strength.

Felicia screamed in pain. Her fingers opened. Her expensive leather handbag dropped to the floor, spilling lipstick and compacts everywhere.

Evelena pushed Felicia's arm away in disgust. She reached into her trench coat pocket. She pulled out a solid black metal card. She slammed it down onto the glass display counter right in front of the saleswoman.

It was the Centurion card Ingram had forced into her hand before she left. It bore the crest of the Santiago Corporation. It had no limit.

The saleswoman looked at the card. The color drained from her face. Her knees actually buckled. She knew exactly what that card meant. She bowed her head instantly and started stammering apologies.

The women whispering in the back saw the black card. They gasped. The looks of disgust turned into wide-eyed fear and respect.

Felicia rubbed her throbbing wrist. She stared at the black card. She screamed that it was impossible. She yelled that Evelena must have stolen it.

Evelena picked up the blue velvet dress from the counter. She threw it directly into Felicia's face. She told the saleswoman she didn't want it anymore because trash had touched it.

Evelena turned around. She walked toward the exit, her back straight, her chin held high.

Felicia ripped the dress off her face. She pointed a shaking finger at Evelena's back. She screamed that she was going to destroy her at the charity gala next week.

Evelena stopped at the door. She slowly turned her head. She looked at Felicia and smiled. It was a terrifying, empty smile.

She walked out of the store. The two hidden bodyguards fell into step behind her, leaving Felicia screaming in the middle of the boutique.

The sky over Wall Street was a heavy, depressing gray. Inside the top floor of the Santiago Corporation headquarters, the atmosphere was just as suffocating.

Ingram sat behind a massive desk made of solid black obsidian. His face was hard. He was listening to a group of senior executives sweat through a presentation about a European merger.

Palmer walked into the room. His footsteps made no sound on the carpet. He walked up to the desk and placed a highly encrypted tablet next to Ingram's hand.

Palmer leaned down. He whispered that the security team following Miss Evelena had just transmitted live footage from the mall.

Ingram raised his right hand. He did not say a word, but the executive who was speaking stopped mid-sentence. The entire room fell completely silent. No one dared to breathe.

Ingram tapped the screen. The video from the luxury boutique started playing.

He saw Evelena on the screen. Her new short hair made her look sharp. Her eyes were focused and deadly.

When Ingram saw Felicia raise her hand to slap Evelena, his blood ran cold. His eyes darkened into a violent, murderous glare. His thumb pressed hard against the edge of the tablet.

But then, the video showed Evelena catching the wrist. It showed her twisting it. It showed her slamming the black card onto the glass counter.

The murderous look in Ingram's eyes vanished. A wave of pure, intense satisfaction washed over him.

He thought she was a broken bird. He was wrong. She was a predator learning how to use her claws.

The corner of Ingram's mouth twitched. Then, it pulled up into a full, dark smile. A low chuckle escaped his throat.

The executives standing in the room felt the hair on their arms stand up. They had worked for him for years. They had never seen the devil smile. It was terrifying.

Ingram locked the tablet. He waved his hand dismissively. He told the executives to get out and fix their garbage presentation.

The men scrambled out of the room. Ingram looked at Palmer. He ordered him to find out everything about the gala Felicia mentioned in the video.

Palmer tapped his phone. Three minutes later, he spoke. He said it was a high-society charity auction happening next week. Cathi and her family were on the guest list.

Ingram let out a cold breath. He told Palmer to call the organizers. He told him to use the Santiago name to secure the highest-level VIP invitation for the event.

Miles away, Evelena sat in a quiet corner of a cafe. She stared at a black coffee.

Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Orlaith. Orlaith asked if she was really planning to go to the charity gala next week.

Evelena typed back immediately. She said yes. That charity was her grandfather's legacy. She was not going to let Cathi parade around acting like she owned it.

Suddenly, the loud screech of heavy tires echoed outside the cafe. Three massive, black, bulletproof Maybachs pulled up to the curb, completely blocking traffic.

The people inside the cafe stopped talking. They stared out the window at the ridiculous display of wealth and power.

Four men in dark suits stepped out of the cars. They walked into the cafe and walked straight to Evelena's table.

The lead guard bowed his head slightly. He spoke loudly enough for the whole room to hear. He said, "Miss, the boss sent us to pick you up."

Evelena blinked. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew Ingram sent them. She felt the heavy stares of everyone in the cafe burning into her back.

She did not argue. She stood up smoothly, grabbed her bag, and walked out the door surrounded by the massive men.

She climbed into the back of the middle Maybach. The door shut heavily, blocking out the noise of the city. The car smelled like cedarwood and cold air. It smelled exactly like Ingram.

Palmer was sitting in the front passenger seat. He turned around and handed her a square velvet box.

Evelena took the box. She opened the lid. Inside sat a breathtaking pink diamond necklace. The stones caught the light, sparkling with a blinding intensity.

Palmer smiled politely. He repeated Ingram's exact words. "The boss says if you are going to war, you need to wear your armor."

Evelena stared at the diamonds. A strange, heavy feeling settled in her chest. Her pulse hammered in her throat. For the first time in her life, she felt a massive wall of protection standing right behind her.

She snapped the box shut. She looked out the tinted window at the passing buildings. Her jaw set in a hard line.

She was not fighting alone anymore.

The convoy sped through the streets, heading back to the penthouse. A storm was coming to the upper-class society of New York.