The elevator let out a soft ping as it reached the ground floor.

Adelia dragged her cheap suitcase out of the steel box. She walked across the expansive marble lobby toward the revolving glass doors leading to the street.

The automatic doors slid open.

Dominic walked in. He was returning from a business dinner, bringing a rush of damp, freezing air with him.

His eyes immediately locked onto the battered suitcase trailing behind Adelia. His pupils contracted sharply. His expensive leather shoes stopped dead on the marble floor.

Panic flared in his chest, but he instantly buried it under a thick layer of arrogance. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his tailored trousers and stepped directly into her path, blocking her exit.

He looked down at her dripping hair and her pale, shivering body. His lips curled into a sneer.

He asked her what kind of childish runaway game she was playing, dragging garbage through his lobby in the middle of the night.

Adelia did not lower her head in submission the way she used to. She tilted her chin up and looked directly into his dark eyes.

Her throat was raw. Her voice was raspy, but the tone was absolute steel. She told him to move.

Her blatant disregard ignited Dominic's temper. He pulled his hand from his pocket and slammed it down on the plastic handle of her suitcase. The veins on the back of his hand bulged against his skin.

He demanded to know what the hell she thought she was doing.

Adelia let go of the handle. She took one step back.

She looked at the man she had loved since she was a teenager. She asked him a simple question. She asked why the love he had for her three years ago had vanished without a trace.

Dominic's expression darkened instantly. A vicious shadow crossed his face.

He let out a cold laugh. He said it vanished because he realized she was a venomous snake who would do anything out of jealousy.

Adelia took a slow, deep breath. She didn't bother defending herself against the three-year-old accusations anymore. Instead, she reached for the deepest, sharpest thorn buried in her chest.

She maintained eye contact. She enunciated every single word.

She told him she had seen the hidden financial charges herself. She knew that for the past three years, he had been funding a private residence at The Pines estate.

The moment the words "The Pines" left her mouth, the temperature around Dominic plummeted to absolute zero.

His eyes turned feral. It was as if she had reached into his chest and squeezed his bare heart.

He lunged forward. His large hand clamped around her slender jaw. His fingers dug into her skin with terrifying force, pressing hard enough to bruise the bone.

He leaned in, his face inches from hers. He ground his teeth together, his breath hot against her cold skin.

He warned her never to speak that name again. He told her she had absolutely no right to investigate The Pines.

Adelia was forced to tilt her head back. The pain in her jaw was blinding, but she didn't struggle. She just looked at him with the profound sadness of looking at a stranger.

She asked him why, if he already had someone else, he didn't just let her go. She asked why he chose to torture her with cold violence for three years, making her wish she was dead.

Dominic stared into the dead, empty void of her eyes. A sharp, inexplicable pain pierced his own chest. But his defense mechanism was cruelty.

He tightened his grip slightly. His voice was devoid of mercy.

He said she owed a debt to Carly's sister. He said a vicious woman like her deserved to rot in a loveless marriage.

Those words acted like a guillotine, cleanly severing the very last, microscopic thread of hope Adelia had kept hidden in her heart.

The rims of her eyes burned red, but she forced the moisture back down.

She violently twisted her head and shoved his arm away. As she broke his grip, her fingernails scraped hard across the back of his hand.

Four bloody scratches welled up instantly on his skin.

Dominic looked down at the blood on his hand. He froze. He had never expected her to fight back with physical violence. She had always been so compliant.

Adelia grabbed the handle of her suitcase again. Her voice was colder than the rain outside.

She said that as of today, she didn't owe him a damn thing.

She bypassed his towering frame. She didn't hesitate as she pushed through the revolving doors and stepped out into the freezing New York drizzle.

The lobby security guards stood frozen by the desk, too terrified to breathe.

Dominic stood rooted to the spot. He didn't turn around. He stared straight ahead at the reflection in the glass doors, watching her figure grow smaller and smaller in the dark.

His hands balled into tight fists at his sides. His fingernails dug so deeply into his palms they broke the skin. His suffocating pride acted like concrete, keeping his feet glued to the floor. He couldn't chase her.

Adelia's bare, bloody feet stepped into freezing puddles on the sidewalk. Every step sent agonizing spikes of pain up her legs, but she walked faster and faster.

A passing taxi honked its horn. Adelia waved her hand frantically. The car pulled over.

She lifted the heavy suitcase and shoved it into the trunk, her muscles screaming in protest.

She climbed into the back seat. The moment the door slammed shut, her entire body went limp. She collapsed against the cheap vinyl seat and closed her eyes.

Through the glass doors of the lobby, Dominic watched the taillights of the taxi disappear into the rain.

He suddenly spun around and drove his bleeding fist directly into the solid marble pillar next to him.

The skin on his knuckles split open, smearing bright red blood across the white stone.

Adelia dragged her suitcase down the concrete stairs of the subway station. She swiped her MetroCard and boarded the late-night train heading deep into Brooklyn.

The subway car was mostly empty. A few homeless men sleeping on the plastic benches opened their eyes to stare at her dripping clothes and her bare, bloody feet. Adelia wrapped her arms tightly around her chest, trying to stop her teeth from chattering.

She exited the station and limped through several dimly lit blocks. She finally stopped in front of a decaying red-brick apartment building. She pressed the buzzer for her sister Elberta's unit.

The heavy door creaked open. Elberta stood in the doorway wearing a faded cotton nightgown. When she saw her sister shivering and covered in mud and blood, her hands flew to her mouth in shock.

Elberta grabbed Adelia's arm and pulled her into the cramped, narrow hallway. She rushed to the bathroom and brought back a clean towel, frantically rubbing Adelia's soaking wet hair.

The commotion woke Garry, Elberta's husband. He walked out of the bedroom, his face clouded with deep irritation. "What the hell is all the noise?" His words died in his throat when he saw Adelia standing there. The irritation vanished instantly, replaced by a wide, calculating, and greedy smile. In the past, Adelia's visits always meant expensive gifts, imported steaks, or designer clothes.

Garry hurried to the kitchen and poured a glass of hot water. He handed it to Adelia, rubbing his hands together eagerly. He leaned in and asked if Dominic had any new real estate developments he could get a piece of.

Adelia wrapped her freezing fingers around the hot glass. The heat burned her skin, but it grounded her. She kept her head down and spoke in a flat, exhausted voice.

She told him she and Dominic were getting a divorce.

Garry's smile froze instantly. His eyes darted around frantically. A calculating gleam appeared in his pupils.

He leaned closer, his voice urgent. He asked how many millions she got in the settlement. He asked if she got the Manhattan penthouse or the Hamptons property.

Adelia looked up at him. She told him the truth.

She said she signed an agreement to leave with zero assets. She took nothing so she could get out immediately.

The words "zero assets" hit Garry like a physical blow. The muscles around his eyes began to twitch violently. The color drained from his face, replaced by an ugly, dark red flush.

He lunged forward and violently snatched the hot glass of water right out of Adelia's hands.

He slammed the glass down on the cheap wooden coffee table. Water splashed everywhere, soaking a stack of mail.

He pointed a thick finger directly at Adelia's face and started screaming. He called her a mental patient. He said she was a complete idiot for throwing away a billionaire's fortune just to come here and play the victim.

Garry didn't hide his disgust. He yelled that she was a useless parasite and that he wasn't going to let her drain his hard-earned money.

Elberta burst into tears. She stepped in front of Adelia, using her body as a shield. She screamed at Garry to shut his mouth, telling him Adelia was her only sister and this was her home too.

Garry let out a vicious sneer. He looked at his wife with pure contempt. He told Elberta she was nothing but a leech living off his paycheck, and she had no right to play the generous host.

The argument escalated into a screaming match. Garry's face contorted with rage. He raised his heavy hand, preparing to slap Elberta across the face.

Adelia moved with lightning speed. She reached out and clamped her hand around Garry's thick wrist, stopping his arm in mid-air.

Her eyes were dead and freezing cold. Three years in the cutthroat world of the Thompson family had taught her how to project pure intimidation.

She stared into Garry's eyes and told him in a low, dangerous voice that if he ever touched her sister, she would destroy him.

Garry felt the icy grip on his wrist and saw the murder in her eyes. He flinched. He yanked his arm back, cursing under his breath. He turned and stomped back into the bedroom, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

The living room fell silent. Elberta collapsed onto the sofa, pulling Adelia into her arms. She sobbed uncontrollably, apologizing over and over for being too weak to protect her.

Adelia swallowed the lump of glass in her throat. She patted her sister's back, holding her tears back.

Elberta wiped her eyes and went to the bathroom to get a plastic first-aid kit. She knelt on the worn carpet and carefully poured hydrogen peroxide over the deep cuts on the soles of Adelia's feet.

The chemical reaction bubbled white. A blinding, searing pain shot up Adelia's legs. She clamped her jaw shut, refusing to make a sound.

She looked down at the gray hairs mixed into her sister's roots. She slowly curled her hands into fists.

After bandaging the wounds, Elberta led Adelia into the tiny, cluttered spare room. She gave Adelia an oversized, faded t-shirt to sleep in.

Adelia lay down on the hard, lumpy folding bed. Through the thin drywall, she could hear Garry complaining and cursing in the master bedroom.

She stared at the water stains on the ceiling. She realized her sister was trapped in a different kind of hell, and right now, Adelia had zero power to save her.

A fierce, burning need for survival ignited in her chest. She had to get a job. She had to get money.

At three in the morning, Adelia sat up on the folding bed. She pulled her phone from her bag and connected to the weak apartment WiFi.

She opened a job portal app. She began aggressively editing her resume. She didn't hide her identity as Dominic's wife; instead, she strategically leveraged the high-level logistical and translation work she had discreetly handled for his overseas accounts during that three-year gap, framing her application as a hungry professional eager to prove her own worth.

The blue light from the screen illuminated her pale face. Her eyes were sharp and unyielding. Tomorrow was going to be a bloodbath, and she was ready for it.

The next morning, Adelia walked out of the spare bedroom. She had showered and changed into a cheap, ill-fitting navy blue skirt suit she found in the back of her old closet.

To hide the thick bandages on the soles of her feet, she forced her swollen feet into a pair of flat, black loafers. Every step sent a dull throb up her calves.

She left the Brooklyn apartment, swiped her MetroCard, and rode the train back into Manhattan. She walked to a high-end law firm located right next to City Hall.

She approached the sleek marble reception desk. She gave the receptionist her name and appointment time.

The receptionist looked up. Her eyes slowly scanned Adelia's cheap suit and scuffed shoes. Her lips pressed into a thin, judgmental line. She pointed a manicured finger toward a glass-walled conference room at the end of the hall.

Adelia walked into the massive, brightly lit room. The air conditioning was freezing. She sat down on a stiff leather sofa and stared at the digital clock on the wall, waiting for Dominic to arrive and authorize the final filing of their divorce.

The minutes dragged on. The digital numbers flipped. Thirty minutes passed beyond their scheduled time. The heavy glass door remained firmly shut.

Through the transparent walls, Adelia could see several junior lawyers and paralegals walking by. They paused, looked at her sitting alone, and whispered to each other. Their faces held naked amusement and mockery.

Adelia locked her knees together. She placed her hands flat on her lap, digging her fingernails into the cheap fabric of her skirt. She forced her spine to remain perfectly straight, refusing to slouch under their stares.

Finally, the glass door swung open.

It wasn't Dominic. It was Fed Cardenas, his executive assistant.

Fed walked to the opposite side of the long mahogany table. He looked down at Adelia with his usual robotic, emotionless expression.

He spoke in a crisp, professional tone. He informed her that Mr. Thompson had to take an emergency flight to Seattle for an unexpected acquisition. He would not be authorizing the filing today.

Adelia's jaw clenched. She knew exactly what Apex Holdings' portfolio looked like. Dominic had absolutely zero business interests in Seattle. This was a deliberate, malicious lie.

She took a slow breath, forcing her heart rate to steady. She asked Fed exactly when his boss would return.

Fed pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. He stated that the CEO's itinerary was highly classified. He told her to go home and wait for a phone call.

Adelia understood the game perfectly. Dominic was using his absolute power to suspend her in mid-air. He wanted to cut off her resources and watch her panic. He was enjoying the cat-and-mouse torture.

She stood up. The pain in her feet flared, but she ignored it. She looked directly into Fed's eyes.

She told him to pass a message to his boss. She said she would wait as long as it took to finalize the divorce, and she told Fed to advise Dominic to stop hiding like a coward.

Fed's eyebrows twitched slightly. He was clearly shocked by her aggressive tone, but he quickly recovered his blank mask. He extended his arm toward the door, silently asking her to leave.

Adelia walked out of the law firm. The harsh mid-morning sun blinded her for a second. She stood on the sidewalk, watching the endless stream of luxury black cars and men in tailored suits rushing past her.

She reached into the pocket of her skirt. Her fingers brushed against a few crumpled dollar bills. It was barely enough to buy a sandwich in this zip code.

Her stomach let out a loud, painful rumble. The physical reality of her poverty crashed down on her shoulders like a lead weight.

She gritted her teeth and walked down the block until she found a small, dingy corner cafe. She pushed the door open, walked to the counter, and ordered the cheapest black coffee on the menu.

She found a small table in the back corner. She pulled out her phone and connected to the cafe's free, unsecured WiFi.

She opened the job portal and began frantically scrolling through listings for executive assistants and translators in the financial district.

She submitted her resume to dozens of top-tier firms. Almost instantly, automated rejection emails flooded her inbox. The algorithms flagged her three-year employment gap and tossed her application out.

Adelia didn't stop. She changed her strategy. She relied on her memory of Dominic's competitors. She searched for aggressive, newly established investment firms that desperately needed multi-lingual staff to handle overseas expansion.

She tailored her cover letters, subtly hinting at her deep knowledge of international contract structures-knowledge she gained from reading Dominic's files late at night.

Her thumbs flew across the cracked screen of her phone. She fired off fifteen highly targeted applications.

She took the last sip of her cold, bitter coffee. She looked at her tired, pale reflection in the dark window glass.

Just as she picked up her bag to leave, her phone vibrated violently against the table.

The screen lit up with an unknown Manhattan landline number.

Adelia's heart slammed against her ribs. She cleared her throat, swiped the screen, and answered with a perfectly modulated, professional greeting.

A woman on the other end identified herself as an HR director for a Wall Street investment firm. She told Adelia to come to their headquarters for a final interview at two o'clock that afternoon.