The yellow cab disappeared into the heavy rain.

Back in the penthouse suite, Axel stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. He stared at the screen of his phone. The four words glared back at him.

I am pregnant.

His jaw tightened. He adjusted the platinum cufflink on his left wrist, a sharp, rigid movement.

Serena walked up behind him. She tilted her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen.

Axel pressed the side button. The screen went black. He placed the phone face-down on the glass coffee table.

Before Serena could speak, a heavy, deafening thud echoed through the suite, as if a medieval battering ram had just struck the entrance.

The hallway alarm shrieked. Red strobe lights began to flash through the frosted glass of the double doors.

The mahogany doors burst inward. The wood splintered violently around the lock, sending sharp fragments skittering across the marble floor.

Bradley stepped into the room. Five massive bodyguards in black suits fanned out behind him.

Serena let out a high-pitched scream. She grabbed her collarbone and shrank behind Axel's broad back.

Axel did not flinch. He looked at his younger brother with eyes as cold as dead ash.

Bradley pointed a shaking finger at Axel's face. "You used illegal wiretaps on the merger! You set me up with the board!"

Axel let out a low, dismissive scoff. He didn't even bother to open his mouth to explain.

The blatant disrespect pushed Bradley over the edge. He jerked his chin at his men. "Take him."

The bodyguards lunged forward.

Before they could cross the room, the heavy thud of tactical boots echoed from the corridor.

Ian Sterling marched into the suite. Behind him poured a dozen private military contractors, fully geared in black tactical armor.

The PMCs raised their riot shields. In three seconds, they formed a solid wall, separating Bradley's men from Axel.

Ian drew a tactical stun gun from his holster. He aimed the red laser dot squarely at Bradley's chest. "Stand down. Now."

One of Bradley's bodyguards reached inside his jacket.

A PMC stepped forward, grabbed the man's wrist, twisted it sharply, and drove a knee into his stomach. The bodyguard collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

Serena gripped Axel's sleeve tighter, her fingernails digging into the fabric. She let out a manufactured whimper.

Axel looked down at her hand. The weight of the message on his phone made the intimacy feel suddenly intrusive. He pulled his arm away, his mind already miles away.

Two PMCs moved in on Bradley. They grabbed his arms and wrenched them behind his back.

Bradley struggled, his face turning purple. "You're a machine, Axel! You have no blood in your veins!"

Axel walked slowly across the room. He stopped inches from Bradley's face. He looked down at him.

"If you ever step foot on this floor again," Axel said, his voice a low, flat rumble, "I will freeze every trust fund in your name. You will be begging for change on the subway."

The color drained from Bradley's face. The anger in his eyes fractured into raw panic.

Ian gave a sharp hand signal. The PMCs dragged Bradley and his men out of the suite and toward the freight elevator.

The room fell dead silent. The only sound was the crunch of splintered wood under Ian's boots as he walked back in.

"Do we call the police, sir?" Ian asked, keeping his voice low.

Axel shook his head. "Keep it out of the press. Suppress everything."

He walked over to the coffee table and picked up his car keys. He strode toward the ruined doors.

"Get the car ready," Axel ordered without looking back. "But first, get the legal team on the line. I need to spend the next few hours neutralizing whatever poison Bradley just fed the board. No one leaves until this is contained."

It took four grueling hours of conference calls and veiled threats before the crisis was finally stabilized. Only then did he head to the Hamptons. He walked out, leaving Serena standing alone in the middle of the wrecked room.

The black Maybach tore through the wet night.

Axel gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. The tires hissed against the slick asphalt as he turned into the private driveway of the Hamptons estate.

He parked the car, killed the engine, and walked straight into the house. He took the stairs two at a time.

He pushed open the door to the master bedroom.

Chloe was standing by the bed. She was shoving sweaters into an open suitcase.

She froze at the sound of the door, but she did not turn around.

Axel walked to the edge of the bed. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a slim, legal-sized envelope. He tossed it onto the mattress.

The envelope landed with a sharp, final thud against the quilt.

Chloe turned her head. Her eyes locked onto the bold black letters on the cover page.

Divorce Decree.

A hollow, agonizing laugh clawed its way out of her throat.

"I saw the text," Axel said. His voice was completely devoid of warmth. "I don't want this accident."

Chloe's heart stopped beating for a full second. Her fingernails dug into her palms so hard the skin broke.

Axel pulled a Montblanc pen from his pocket. He held it out to her. "Sign it."

Chloe stared at the silver pen.

"There is a massive settlement in there," Axel continued, his tone flat and businesslike. "More than enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life."

Chloe did not take the pen. She lifted her chin and looked straight into his dead eyes.

"No," she said. Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was steady. "I will not sign this."

Axel's jaw clenched. He stepped forward, his hand shooting out. He grabbed her chin, his long fingers digging into her jawline. He forced her to look up at him.

"Don't test me, Chloe," he warned, his breath hitting her face. "The Sterling family has a hundred ways to make you walk away with nothing."

Chloe grabbed his wrist and violently shoved his hand away. She stumbled back two steps, her chest heaving.

Axel stared at her for a long moment. He let out a cold scoff. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

The heavy oak door slammed shut behind him.

Seconds later, the roar of the Maybach's engine echoed through the window. The tires spun on the gravel as the car sped away.

Chloe's knees gave out. She collapsed onto the thick carpet. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and sobbed until her throat bled.

Thirty minutes passed. The house was dead quiet.

Suddenly, the faint chime of the security system echoed from downstairs. The front door clicked open—someone had the bypass code.

Chloe stopped crying. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and stood up. She walked to the top of the staircase and looked down.

Serena stood in the center of the foyer, tossing a spare key fob onto the marble table. She was wearing a beige trench coat. Behind her stood three men with thick necks and scarred faces.

The trembling girl who had cowered behind Axel hours ago was gone. In her place stood a woman with eyes as cold and calculating as a predator's. Serena looked up. A vicious, triumphant smile stretched across her face.

She walked up the stairs. Her heels clicked against the hardwood steps, slow and deliberate.

She stopped on the landing, just inches from Chloe.

"Axel is so predictable when he's angry," Serena sneered, her voice no longer high-pitched and fearful. "He didn't even notice me following his Maybach's signal. And look at you—a piece of trailer park trash trying to play house. Axel never loved you. You were just a cheap placeholder until I was ready."

Chloe's blood boiled. She raised her hand and swung hard at Serena's face.

Before her hand could connect, one of the thugs lunged forward. He grabbed Chloe's wrist and twisted it violently.

Chloe cried out in pain. The man shoved her hard in the chest.

Chloe flew backward and hit the floor, her head bouncing against the carpet.

Serena stepped over her. She looked down at Chloe's stomach. The fake sweetness was gone from her eyes, replaced by pure, unadulterated murder.