Ardella pushed through the front doors of the club. The cold rain of early autumn New York crashed down on her without warning.

She did not have an umbrella. The freezing water instantly soaked through her trench coat, making her shiver violently.

She raised her arm, trying to flag down a yellow cab. But the Manhattan streets were empty in the downpour.

A massive, black, bulletproof Rolls Royce Phantom glided through the rain like a ghost. The license plate was a row of eights. It stopped right in front of her.

The windows were tinted black, but Ardella knew exactly whose car it was. Her heart seized in her chest.

The trunk popped open. Leo stepped out of the front seat, holding a large black umbrella over his head.

He did not ask for her permission. He walked over, his footsteps completely silent against the wet pavement. He stopped right in front of her, the massive black umbrella casting a dark shadow over her face. Slowly, he opened the heavy rear door of the vehicle, making a gesture of cold invitation. The interior light illuminated the luxurious leather, contrasting sharply with the freezing rain outside.

"Mr. Stone is waiting, Miss Price," Leo said, his voice cutting through the downpour like a blade. "Please don't make this difficult."

Ardella spun around. She yelled over the sound of the rain, demanding to know what he was doing and telling him to leave her alone.

Leo looked at her with a blank face. "Mr. Stone does not like to wait, Miss Price. Please get in."

Ardella let out a harsh laugh. She yelled back that she did not need charity from a man who just claimed he did not know her.

Ethelbert sat in the deep shadows of the back seat. His long legs were crossed. He was rolling a silver lighter between his long fingers.

He did not look at her. His voice cut through the sound of the storm, a hard, absolute command. "Get in. Or I will have Leo tie you up and throw you in."

Ardella knew he was not joking. He would do it right here on the street. To avoid the public humiliation, she clenched her jaw and climbed into the car.

The heavy door slammed shut. The noise of the rain and the city was instantly cut off.

The back seat was huge, but Ethelbert's presence made the air feel dangerously thin. Ardella felt like she was suffocating.

The Rolls Royce pulled smoothly into the wet streets. The only sound was the rhythmic wiping of the windshield wipers.

Ethelbert reached out and pressed a button. The thick soundproof glass partition rolled up, completely sealing them off from Leo in the front.

He finally turned his head. His eyes slowly dragged over her wet hair and ruined clothes.

"What's wrong?" Ethelbert asked. His voice was thick with mockery. "The Coffey heir doesn't know the basic etiquette of sending a car for his fiancée?"

The words hit a nerve. Ardella forced her chin up and fired back. "We care about our soul connection. We don't care about material details."

The silver lighter in Ethelbert's hand snapped shut with a sharp, violent click. The temperature in the car plummeted.

He leaned forward. His massive frame trapped her against the door. His cold breath brushed against the tip of her nose.

"Soul connection?" he whispered dangerously. "Watching him fuck another woman in a VIP room is part of your connection?"

Ardella's stomach dropped. He had seen her. He knew exactly what happened inside that room.

She refused to back down. She stared right into his angry eyes. "We are young. It's an open relationship. You don't need to worry about it."

She paused, making sure her next words would cut deep. "Former. Guardian."

Those two words hit a forbidden switch. The muscles in Ethelbert's jaw flexed so hard they looked like they would snap.

His hand shot out. His large fingers clamped hard around her delicate chin, forcing her head up.

His rough thumb rubbed dangerously against her bottom lip. His voice was a dark, terrifying growl. "Say that one more time. I dare you."

Ardella was forced to look up at him. The grip on her chin sent sharp spikes of pain through her jaw, but she refused to make a sound.

Ethelbert's eyes were like blue fire. His gaze burned over her lips and her pale, wet cheeks.

The tension in the car was pulled so tight it was about to snap. Then, Ardella's phone rang.

The loud, shrill ringtone shattered the silence. Ethelbert's fingers twitched, his grip loosening just a fraction.

Ardella used the distraction. She jerked her head back, breaking his hold, and pressed her body hard against the car door.

She dug into her bag with shaking hands and pulled out her phone. The screen showed Eleanor's name.

She felt Ethelbert's heavy, burning stare fixed on the glowing screen. A reckless, self-destructive idea flashed in her mind.

She did not answer the call. She pressed the mute button.

Ethelbert narrowed his eyes. "Why aren't you answering? Is the Coffey boy calling to beg?"

Ardella pushed her wet hair out of her face. She put on a fake, careless smile.

"It's not Braden. It's an old Wall Street guy I just met. He's annoying."

She let her voice drop into a cheap, flirtatious tone. "But he is very generous. He said he wants to buy me an apartment in Tribeca."

The air in the car turned into solid ice.

Ethelbert's chest heaved. A terrifying, violent storm ripped through his blue eyes.

He lunged at her. He grabbed her shoulders and slammed her hard against the cold window glass. The impact knocked the breath out of her lungs with a quiet gasp.

He shoved his knee aggressively between her legs, completely pinning her to the seat. There was nowhere to run.

Ethelbert ground his teeth together. The sound vibrated in his chest. "Say that again. Who is buying you an apartment?"

Ardella felt a sick, twisted thrill. She had found his breaking point. She had hurt him.

She stared defiantly into his furious eyes. "I am an adult, Mr. Stone. My private life is none of your business."

Ethelbert dropped his head. His lips were a millimeter away from her nose. His breathing was heavy and ragged.

"None of my business?" he snarled. "Did you forget? Every single inch of your skin was raised by me."

The words were raw and dripping with dark possessiveness. Ardella's face burned hot. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs.

He tilted his head. He was going to kiss her. She could feel the heat of his mouth.

Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes.

The violent physics of the sudden stop threw them forward. Before Ardella could hit her head on the glass, Ethelbert's hand shot out. He cupped the back of her head, taking the impact against his own arm.

The intercom buzzed. Leo's voice came through. "Sir, we have arrived at The Plaza Hotel."

The words acted like a bucket of ice water. The suffocating heat in the car vanished.

Ethelbert pulled his hand away as if she had burned him. He slid back to his side of the car, straightened his suit jacket, and locked his face back into a mask of cold indifference.

Ardella gasped for air. She grabbed her bag and shoved the car door open, practically falling out onto the pavement.

She stood under the grand awning of the hotel. She watched the black Rolls Royce speed away into the rainy night, disappearing down Fifth Avenue.

She reached up and touched the back of her head. The heat from his palm was still burned into her hair. The tears she had been fighting finally spilled over her eyelashes and hit the concrete.

Ardella dragged her exhausted body into the penthouse suite of The Plaza Hotel. She kicked her wet stiletto heels off near the door.

She walked straight into the marble bathroom and turned the shower on full blast. She stood under the scalding hot water, letting it burn away the freezing rain and the lingering ghost of Ethelbert's touch.

When she stepped out, she wrapped herself in a thick white bathrobe. She walked into the bedroom and picked up the phone she had abandoned on the bed.

The screen showed three missed calls. One from Eleanor, and two from her uncle, Gaven Price.

Seeing Gaven's name made her stomach cramp violently. She knew she could not hide from him. She pressed call back.

He answered on the first ring. Gaven's furious voice exploded through the speaker, nearly blowing out her eardrum.

"What the hell did you do at The Pinnacle Club tonight?" he roared.

He screamed that the Coffey family had just called him. They were furious that she had publicly humiliated Braden by throwing a drink in his face.

Ardella kept her voice dead and cold. "Braden was cheating on me in public. I was protecting the dignity of the Price family."

"Dignity is worthless on Wall Street!" Gaven snapped. "The only thing that matters is the merger money."

He ordered her to go to the Cloud Room tomorrow night and get on her knees to apologize to Braden.

Ardella gripped the phone tight. Her fingernails dug into her palm. "No."

The line went quiet for two seconds. Then, Gaven let out a low, evil laugh.

He spoke very slowly, "The police file from the car crash fourteen years ago is sitting in my safe right now," he said, the malice dripping from his words. "And so is the current address of that truck driver, Curley Donovan. You want it? Then you fix this merger."

The air in the room seemed to freeze. He had hit her exact weak point, twisting the knife with practiced precision. He was reminding her that he was the only person on earth who knew where the man responsible for her tragedy was hiding.

Ardella swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Her voice shook, but she forced it to stay hard. "I will handle the Coffeys. But I will not apologize."

Ardella's breathing steadied. She let the silence stretch for three agonizing seconds before she spoke. "Don't worry, Uncle," she said softly, a dangerous, icy edge creeping into her tone. "Braden has far more to lose from this engagement failing than we do. I'll make sure he reminds his father of that. The Coffeys will be begging us to stay."

Without giving him a chance to ask what leverage she held, she hung up the phone.

Her legs gave out. She slid down the wall and hit the carpet. She pulled her knees to her chest and started shaking uncontrollably.

She realized that blackmailing Braden was not enough. She needed to blow this scandal up. She needed to make it so toxic that the Coffey family would be forced to cancel the wedding themselves and pay the Price family to go away.

She forced herself to stand up. She walked to the minibar, poured a heavy glass of whiskey, and swallowed it in one burn.

The alcohol scorched her throat, bringing a small amount of clarity back to her brain. She started calculating her next PR move.

She walked toward the sofa to grab her laptop. As she got close, a very faint scent hit her nose. Oud and cedarwood.

She froze. She looked down at her damp trench coat lying on the cushions.

It was Ethelbert's scent. The short time in his car had permanently stained her clothes with his smell.

Ardella lost control of her body. She picked up the coat and buried her face deep into the fabric. She took a long, desperate breath.

The scent worked like magic. The terrifying panic caused by her uncle's threat instantly smoothed out. Her racing heart slowed down.

She squeezed her eyes shut. A fresh tear soaked into the coat. She hated herself. She hated that beneath all her armor, she was still sick with a pathological need for the man who had thrown her away.