Inside the villa, the fireplace crackled warmly. Herminia leaned back against the plush sofa, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

Ignacio walked over holding a steaming cup of chamomile tea. He placed it gently on the table. Noticing she was shivering slightly, he picked up a thick cashmere shawl from the armrest. He stepped close and draped it carefully over her shoulders.

Herminia looked up and gave him a tired, grateful smile. "Thank you."

At that exact moment, a deafening crash exploded from the front of the house.

The heavy solid wood door was kicked open with brutal force. A gust of freezing wind and dead leaves blew into the living room. Bradley stood in the doorway, his silhouette dark against the light, fury twisting his face.

His eyes locked onto the two figures on the sofa. From his angle, Ignacio's arms looked wrapped around Herminia in a tight embrace.

Rage blurred his vision. He stepped inside, body radiating raw, violent energy, and walked straight toward them with heavy, rapid steps.

Herminia's smile vanished. She shot to her feet, body rigid.

Ignacio frowned. He stepped forward, shielding Herminia behind him. "What gives you the right to break into my house?"

Bradley didn't even look at him. He grabbed Ignacio by the collar of his expensive sweater and shoved him violently to the side. Ignacio crashed into the coffee table. Hot tea spilled everywhere.

Bradley lunged forward. His massive hand clamped down on Herminia's wrist like an iron vise.

The crushing pain made her gasp. She tried to yank her arm back. "Let go of me!"

Instead, Bradley pulled her hard. She crashed into his rock-hard chest. He leaned down, his voice a vicious, guttural growl in her ear. "You couldn't even wait three days to find a new bed?"

Herminia shook with fury. She raised her free hand, aiming a hard slap at his face. Bradley caught her wrist mid-air. He twisted both her arms behind her back, pressing her flush against him, completely trapping her.

Ignacio scrambled to his feet, rushing forward to help. Before he could take two steps, three massive bodyguards in black suits flooded into the room and slammed Ignacio against the wall, pinning him by the neck.

Bradley stared at the actor with dead, venomous eyes. "If you want to keep your career in Hollywood, stay out of my business."

Ignacio struggled against the guards. "We're just friends! Let her go, you psycho!"

Bradley let out a dark, cruel laugh. "She is my wife. She will always be my wife."

Ignoring Herminia's screaming and struggling, Bradley bent down and threw her over his broad shoulder like a sack of dirt. She pounded her fists into his back, but hitting his solid muscles did nothing.

Bradley carried her out of the villa, strides long and angry. He shoved her roughly into the back seat of the Maybach. He climbed in after her and slammed the door shut, cutting off the outside world.

"Lock the doors and drive," Bradley ordered. The Maybach shot forward into the dark mountains.

The Maybach sped dangerously along the pitch-black mountain road. The air in the car felt thick and suffocating.

Herminia rubbed her bruised, red wrists. She glared at the man beside her. "You are a lunatic."

Bradley ripped his tie off and threw it on the floor. He turned to her, eyes blazing. "You threw away your dignity for that pathetic actor?"

Herminia let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Ignacio is a thousand times better than a cheating piece of garbage like you."

Those words made Bradley snap. He lunged across the seat, grabbed her shoulders, and pinned her hard against the cold window. He squeezed her jaw, his face inches from hers. "As long as I don't sign that paper, you'll die as Mrs. Elliott."

Herminia lifted her chin, refusing to show a single ounce of fear. "I'll see you in court tomorrow."

Just as the tension hit a breaking point, Bradley's phone rang loudly. He pulled it out, annoyed. The name "Kristal" flashed on the screen.

He was about to decline, but he caught the look of absolute disgust in Herminia's eyes. Driven by dark, spiteful impulse, he hit accept.

Instantly, Kristal's hysterical crying blasted through the car's Bluetooth speakers.

"Bradley! The power went out in the apartment! Someone's banging on the door! I'm so scared!"

The muscles in Bradley's arms tensed immediately. His furious tone vanished, replaced by urgent panic. "Are you hurt? Did they get inside?"

Herminia listened to his gentle, worried voice. Her stomach churned violently. The nausea was unbearable.

"Please come back and save me," Kristal sobbed. "I only have you!"

"I'm on my way. Lock the bedroom door," Bradley promised softly.

He hung up and turned to the driver. "Turn the car around. Back to Manhattan. Now."

The driver looked in the rearview mirror, face pale and sweating. "Sir, this mountain pass is incredibly narrow. Reversing out of here will take too much time and it's extremely dangerous in the dark—"

Bradley cut him off with a glare and turned to Herminia. His eyes were completely cold.

"Get out of the car," he ordered. "I'll send another car for you after I make sure Kristal is safe."

Herminia stared at him. The middle of the night. Freezing autumn wind. A desolate mountain road with wild animals nearby.

"You're leaving me in the middle of nowhere for a phone call from that woman?" Her voice dropped to a whisper.

Bradley looked annoyed. "Kristal is in actual danger. Every second counts. I don't have time to argue with you. Just step out so the driver can maneuver safely. Stop being unreasonable."

That sentence cut the last thin thread holding her to him.

Herminia suddenly laughed out loud.

She didn't say another word. She reached over, pulled the handle, and kicked the heavy door open. Freezing wind instantly filled the car. She stepped out into pitch-black darkness. She didn't look back once.

A sharp, strange pain pierced Bradley's chest. He forced it down.

"Turn the damn car around!" he yelled.

The Maybach struggled to reverse into the narrow dirt path, tires spinning, before finally turning around and speeding away. The red taillights disappeared around the bend.

The mountain fell into dead, terrifying silence.

Herminia stood alone on the freezing asphalt, pulling her thin jacket tighter. Her body was freezing, and her heart felt like a lump of solid ice.

Herminia walked blindly along the dark asphalt. Sharp gravel bit into her bare heels, scraping off the skin until she felt the warm trickle of blood.

The wind cut across her face. She wrapped her arms around her chest, teeth chattering uncontrollably. A low howl echoed from the trees in the distance. Her stomach tightened in primal fear.

She pulled out her phone, praying for a signal. The top left corner read: No Service.

Just as despair threatened to swallow her, two blinding beams of light cut through the darkness behind her.

A silver Aston Martin slammed on its brakes right next to her. Tires shrieked, leaving thick black marks on the road.

The driver's door flew open. Ignacio jumped out, his coat half-on, chest heaving. "I threatened to call the police on his guards the second they let up. I tracked your phone's last location before it lost signal. I couldn't believe he would actually just leave you out here!"

He ran to her, eyes wide with panic and fury, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Herminia pressed into his warmth. For a second, her composure nearly broke. Ignacio ripped off his heavy cashmere coat—still warm from his body—and wrapped it tightly around her shivering shoulders.

He guided her into the passenger seat and immediately blasted the heater to maximum. Then he got behind the wheel, gripping it so hard his knuckles popped. "That animal. I'm going to kill him."

Herminia leaned her head against the leather headrest, watching the dark trees blur past. Her voice was weak but entirely steady. "Don't say his name. It's completely over."

Ignacio looked at her. Her eyes were dry, vacant. He reached over and gently patted the back of her cold hand. "Whenever you need me, I'm here."

Herminia slowly pulled her hand away, avoiding his intense gaze. "Just take me back to the city."

The Aston Martin glided through the night. An hour later, they pulled up to the glowing entrance of a five-star hotel in downtown New York. Ignacio booked the Presidential Suite.

When they reached the door, Herminia politely but firmly refused his offer to stay. She closed the heavy door and locked him out.

She walked straight into the marble bathroom and turned the shower to the hottest setting. She stood under the scalding water, scrubbing her skin until it was red, washing away the freezing mountain air and the lingering traces of Bradley Elliott.

After the shower, she put on a thick white bathrobe and sat at the desk. She opened the hotel computer and logged into the MY Corporation internal network. She stared at the disastrous financial reports, her eyes turning cold and sharp.

She picked up her phone and dialed Anne. It was three in the morning, but Anne answered on the first ring.

"Notify all senior executives," Herminia commanded, her voice hard. "Emergency board meeting at eight a.m. sharp."

Anne paused, then let out a squeal of excitement. "Are you finally coming out of the shadows?"

Herminia looked at her reflection in the dark window. "Anna is back."

The next morning, sunlight pierced through grey clouds. Herminia stepped out of the hotel in a razor-sharp black power suit. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight knot. Her lips were painted a fierce blood-red. Four-inch stilettos clicked sharply against the pavement.

A black Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a stop in front of her. Anne opened the back door. Together, they drove straight toward the MY Empire.