Jett stopped directly in front of Calista.

His tall, broad frame blocked out the light from the chandeliers, casting a heavy, suffocating shadow over her.

Patty and Gus instantly shrank back. The arrogant sneers vanished from their faces, replaced by nervous, fawning smiles.

"Good evening, Jett," Patty stammered.

Calista looked up at her husband. Her eyes were red-rimmed. A tiny, desperate spark of hope flared in her chest. She waited for him to defend her.

Jett's eyes were like frozen steel. He didn't look at Calista. He looked at the relatives.

"This is a public event," Jett said. His voice was dangerously low. "There are Wall Street Journal reporters outside those doors."

He took a half step forward.

"Watch your behavior. Do not embarrass the Holder family," he ordered.

Patty turned pale. She nodded frantically. She and Gus practically scurried backward, disappearing into the crowd.

Calista let out a shaky breath. Her tense shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. He had stepped in. He had stopped them.

"Thank you," Calista whispered.

Jett slowly turned his head to look at her.

There was no comfort in his eyes. He looked at her like she was a stain on the floor.

"Don't start trouble at this partnership gala," Jett warned. His voice was thick with annoyance.

The blood drained from Calista's face. Her heart stopped beating for a full second.

"I didn't start it," Calista said, her voice cracking. "They came over here and-"

"Jett!"

A soft, panicked cry cut through the air.

Kassandra was hurrying toward them. Suddenly, the heel of her shoe caught on the hem of her heavy silver dress. She pitched forward.

Jett moved with terrifying speed.

He lunged forward and caught Kassandra firmly by the waist before her knees could hit the marble floor.

Kassandra collapsed against his chest. Her hands gripped the lapels of his custom tuxedo tightly.

The cold annoyance vanished from Jett's face entirely. His jaw unclenched.

"Are you hurt?" Jett asked. His voice was incredibly soft. "Did you twist your ankle?"

Kassandra shook her head weakly, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. But from the corner of her eye, she shot a vicious, triumphant glare straight at Calista.

Calista stood three feet away.

She watched her husband hold another woman with the tenderness he had never, not once, shown her.

Her fingernails dug so hard into her palms that the skin broke. She felt like a sick joke.

Jett helped Kassandra stand upright. He turned his head back to Calista. The warmth in his eyes died instantly.

"Go to the restroom and fix your makeup," Jett commanded coldly. "You look like a ghost. It's an eyesore."

The words were a serrated knife sliding between her ribs.

A few women standing nearby covered their mouths, failing to hide their quiet giggles.

The air was sucked out of Calista's lungs. She couldn't stay in this room for another second.

She didn't say a word. She spun around, shoved past a waiter, and practically ran toward the long hallway.

Kassandra watched Calista's retreating back. The corners of her mouth twitched upward into a dark smile.

"I need to go fix my dress," Kassandra whispered to Jett.

She let go of his arm and quietly followed Calista out the doors.

Calista burst through the heavy brass doors of the women's powder room.

She rushed to the marble sink and gripped the edges with both hands. She was gasping for air as if she had been drowning.

She looked up at the massive mirror. Her face was chalk-white. Her eyes were bloodshot.

She reached out and violently pushed the handle of the faucet.

Freezing cold water blasted into the basin. She shoved her hands under the stream, letting the icy water numb her shaking fingers. She tried to wash away the burning humiliation.

The heavy brass door behind her groaned open.

The sharp, rhythmic click of stiletto heels echoed off the marble walls.

Calista looked up into the mirror. Kassandra was walking toward her.

The sweet, innocent mask was completely gone. Kassandra's face was twisted with pure malice.

Kassandra stopped next to her. She reached into the gold-plated dispenser and pulled out a paper towel. She patted her hands dry with slow, deliberate movements.

"Look at you," Kassandra sneered at the mirror. "You look like a stray dog begging for scraps."

Kassandra leaned in closer.

"Jett spent four hours with me last night picking out this diamond," Kassandra whispered. "He doesn't care if you live or die."

Calista turned off the water. She stood up straight and turned to face the woman who had stolen her parents and her husband.

"You can put on whatever show you want," Calista said, her voice dropping to a freezing whisper. "But on paper, I am still Mrs. Holder."

Kassandra's eye twitched. Then she laughed. A high, grating sound.

"That piece of paper is going to be garbage very soon," Kassandra mocked.

Calista felt a surge of reckless anger. She raised her hand and roughly pushed aside the thick hair resting against her neck.

Under the bright vanity lights, four dark purple bite marks and harsh bruises stood out starkly against her pale skin.

"He wasn't so gentle in my bed last night," Calista said.

Kassandra's eyes locked onto the bruises. Her pupils shrank to pinpricks.

The smugness shattered. Pure, murderous jealousy exploded in Kassandra's eyes.

She let out a furious hiss and lunged forward. She raised her hand high, aiming a vicious slap right at Calista's face.

Calista saw it coming. She threw her arm up and caught Kassandra's wrist mid-air.

They locked together in front of the sinks. Kassandra struggled wildly, her breath coming in harsh pants.

Suddenly, Kassandra's eyes darted past Calista's shoulder. She looked toward the slightly open brass door.

Heavy footsteps and the sound of Susan Mckee's voice drifted down the hallway.

Kassandra stopped struggling. A terrifying, psychotic smile stretched across her face.

She violently yanked her wrist out of Calista's grip.

Without a second of hesitation, Kassandra swung her own hand back and slapped herself across the right cheek with terrifying force.

The sound was like a gunshot in the tiled room.

Her cheek instantly swelled. A drop of blood burst from the corner of her lip.

Calista froze in absolute shock.

Kassandra threw her body backward. She slammed onto the hard marble floor. The impact made a sickening thud.

Kassandra grabbed her own hair, ripping the perfect curls apart. She opened her mouth and let out a blood-curdling, terrified scream.

The brass door was kicked open with brutal force.

The heavy door slammed against the wall.

Jett Holder and Susan Mckee rushed into the powder room.

Susan saw Kassandra lying on the floor with blood on her mouth. She let out a shrieking wail.

Jett's eyes darted from Kassandra's bruised face straight to Calista. Calista was still standing by the sink, her hands raised in a defensive posture.

A terrifying, violent rage erupted in Jett's eyes. The air in the room turned to ice.

Susan dropped to her knees. She pulled Kassandra into her arms. "Who did this to you? Who hit you?" Susan cried.

Kassandra buried her face in her mother's chest. Her body shook violently. She raised a trembling finger and pointed right at Calista.

"She tried to kill me," Kassandra sobbed.

"No!" Calista yelled, shaking her head frantically. "She hit herself! She's crazy!"

Jett closed the distance between them in two massive strides.

He grabbed Calista's wrist. His large fingers clamped down on her delicate bones with crushing, merciless force.

Calista let out a sharp cry of pain. She felt like her wrist was going to snap in half.

"You are a sick, venomous bitch," Jett snarled, his face inches from hers.

Tears of pure physical pain spilled over Calista's eyelashes. She stared up at him, refusing to look away. "I didn't touch her. I swear to god, I didn't touch her."

Jett violently shoved her arm away. He looked at her hands like they were covered in filth.

He turned his back on her. He bent down and scooped Kassandra up into his arms. His movements were incredibly gentle.

He looked back over his shoulder. His eyes were dead.

"I will deal with you when we get home," Jett promised.

He carried Kassandra out the door. Susan shot Calista a look of pure hatred, hissed the word "Viper," and ran after them.

Calista slumped against the marble counter. The world spun around her.

She forced her shaking legs to move. She pushed through the brass doors and stumbled out into the hallway.

The corridor was empty, save for one person.

Bo Mckee was charging down the hall. He looked like a raging bull. He had just gotten the call from Susan.

He saw Calista. He didn't slow down.

Bo lunged forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, slamming her back against the wall.

"If you ruined her face and ruined this merger, I will skin you alive!" Bo roared, spit flying from his mouth.

With a brutal shove, he sent her stumbling backward. Calista lost her balance. Her back slammed into the marble wall.

The back of her skull cracked against the sharp edge of a decorative stone molding.

A sickening crunch echoed in the hall.

Calista's vision went completely black. Her knees buckled. She slid down the wall and collapsed onto the carpet.

Warm, thick blood immediately rushed down her neck, soaking into the green silk of her dress.

Bo looked down at the blood. He didn't care. He raised his heavy leather shoe, aiming a kick right at her ribs.

The door to the VIP suite at the end of the hall swung open.

A tall man in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit stepped out.

He saw the raised foot. He moved with lethal speed.

The man grabbed Bo's ankle mid-air. With a sharp, calculated twist, he threw the heavy man off balance. Bo crashed hard onto the floor.

Finn Sandoval, one of the top surgeons in New York, stood over Bo. His eyes were sharp and dangerous.

"Stay away from her," Finn ordered.

Finn dropped to his knees next to Calista. He pressed two fingers to her neck, checked her pupils, and saw the blood pooling on the carpet.

Without a word, Finn slid his arms under her body, lifted her unconscious form against his chest, and sprinted toward the elevators.