The driver pressed a button. The thick, black soundproof divider slowly rolled up, sealing the backseat into an absolute vacuum.

The confined space was immediately flooded with Dominick's scent. It was a heavy mix of cold cedar and custom tobacco.

Aubrey slid across the leather seat until her hip hit the door. She needed maximum physical distance from him.

Dominick reached up and yanked his tie loose. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. He looked exhausted and dangerous.

"A million dollars for outdated emeralds," Aubrey said, her voice dripping with venom. "The Carrillo Group's cash flow must be incredibly healthy."

Dominick turned his head. The passing streetlights cast dark shadows over the sharp angles of his face.

"It's a tax-deductible charity expense, Aubrey. You don't need to use your pathetic financial knowledge to audit my ledgers," he fired back coldly.

The insult hit her right in the chest. It was the exact sore spot she hated most-being treated like a brainless trophy. Her eyes burned.

"Is that right?" she snapped. "Was grabbing my waist for the cameras part of your tax avoidance strategy too?"

Dominick lunged forward. He planted his arm on the leather seat right behind her head, trapping her in the corner.

"That was to stop you from running to those gossiping housewives tomorrow and crying about your neglectful husband. I protect my stock prices."

Aubrey's heart hammered frantically against her ribs, but she tilted her chin up and glared right back into his eyes.

The Lincoln took a sudden, sharp turn. Aubrey lost her balance. She pitched forward and slammed hard into Dominick's chest.

Dominick's arm instinctively wrapped around her. He pulled her tight against his body. His muscles were like solid rock.

Aubrey shoved her hands against his chest, pushing him away like he was diseased. "Don't touch me!"

Dominick's eyes darkened instantly. He dropped his arm, slid back to his side of the car, and aggressively smoothed down his suit jacket.

For the next ten minutes, the car was dead silent. Only the neon lights of Manhattan blurred past the tinted windows.

The Lincoln finally rolled into the private underground garage of their Fifth Avenue building.

The bodyguard opened the door. Aubrey didn't wait a single second. She grabbed her dress and practically ran toward the private elevator.

Dominick shoved his hands into his pockets and followed her, his long strides easily keeping pace.

The elevator shot up to the penthouse. The doors slid open to reveal the cold, minimalist black-and-white decor.

They owned two floors. They lived entirely separate lives.

Aubrey walked into the foyer and aggressively kicked off her Jimmy Choo heels. They clattered against the marble.

Instead of walking up the stairs to her floor, she spun around. She planted her bare feet on the floor and blocked his path.

Dominick took off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the sofa. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"The show is over, Dominick. Now, answer my question," Aubrey demanded. Her voice shook with pure rage.

"What tantrum are you throwing now?" Dominick pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked incredibly annoyed.

"When exactly did you get back to New York?" She stared a hole straight through him. She dropped the bomb.

Dominick was reaching for a whiskey decanter. His hand completely froze in mid-air for half a second. He hadn't expected that.

Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the New York sky ripped open. Thunder cracked, and torrential rain began to smash against the glass.

Dominick slowly turned around. He set the half-filled whiskey glass down on the marble bar. The heavy crystal made a sharp clink.

"If you already know, why are you asking me?" he said. His voice was completely flat, like they were discussing the weather.

His utter indifference snapped the last thread of Aubrey's sanity. "Three days! You've been in New York for three days, and I had to find out from Carter Dalton's Instagram story!"

Dominick frowned. He looked more annoyed at the breach of security than his wife's anger. "Carter is an idiot."

"Is Carter the point?" Aubrey stepped toward him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "The point is you treat me like an absolute fool!"

"It's a multi-billion-dollar hostile takeover, Aubrey. My schedule is highly classified. Not even the board knew," he stated, using his Wall Street logic to shut her down.

"Classified? Classified enough to hide from your wife, but public enough to parade a Hollywood actress down a red carpet?" Aubrey's voice cracked. Her eyes were red.

Dominick's eyes turned to ice. "Veronica's husband has massive influence on the Senate Finance Committee, and his opinions sway SEC directions. I needed her as a smokescreen. It's just business."

"Business? What isn't business in your world? Is our marriage just a line item on your balance sheet?" Aubrey let out a desperate, hollow laugh.

Dominick walked to the bar. He opened a drawer, pulled out a limitless Centurion Black Card, and slid it across the marble toward her.

"If you feel wronged, go buy out the entire seasonal collection at Bergdorf Goodman tomorrow. Consider it my apology." He used the only language he knew.

Aubrey stared at the black card. Her stomach twisted violently. She felt like a high-priced escort being paid off. The humiliation was suffocating.

She snatched the heavy metal card off the counter and hurled it at him with all her might. The card fluttered weakly against his expensive suit jacket before falling silently onto the thick carpet. That weightless, quiet rejection somehow felt infinitely more damaging than a physical blow.

"Screw your black card! Dominick Carrillo, you make me sick!" she screamed. She spun around and marched toward the stairs.

Dominick's face went completely dark. He closed the distance in two massive strides and clamped his hand around her wrist.

He yanked her backward with terrifying force. She stumbled and crashed hard against his chest.

"Let me go!" she fought him wildly, slamming her free fist into his shoulder.

Dominick didn't let go. His other hand shot up and gripped her jaw, forcing her head up to look at him.

"Are you insane? I explained it. I apologized. What else do you want from me?" he gritted out, his jaw tight with fury.

"I want you to respect me like a human being! Not like a pet canary you keep locked up on Fifth Avenue!" A single tear finally broke free and rolled down her cheek.

The hot tear dropped right onto the back of Dominick's hand. The heat of it made his pupils dilate instantly.

He stared at her flushed, tear-stained face. The wild beast he had kept locked down for three years suddenly shattered its cage.

Without a single warning, Dominick crushed his mouth down onto hers.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a violent, punishing act of possession.

Aubrey's eyes went wide with shock. She clamped her teeth shut, refusing to let him in.

Dominick's large hand tangled in the hair at the back of her head. His other arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground and pinning her back against the wooden banister.

He forced her lips apart. The heavy taste of whiskey and raw male aggression invaded her mouth, short-circuiting her brain.

Aubrey's struggles weakened. Her body betrayed her, melting against the overwhelming heat of him.

Dominick scooped her up into his arms. He carried her down the hallway, his strides eating up the distance to his master bedroom.

He kicked the bedroom door open, walked through, and let it slam shut behind them, locking the storm outside and starting a new one inside.

Dominick threw Aubrey down onto the massive King-size velvet bed. The heavy mattress sank deep under her weight.

Aubrey's head spun from the impact. She tried to push herself up on her elbows, but Dominick's large frame was already hovering over her.

He dropped to one knee on the edge of the mattress. His long fingers violently ripped the expensive silk tie from his neck.

Aubrey looked up at the dark, feral hunger in his eyes. A terrifying mix of fear and deep, hidden arousal coiled in her stomach.

"Dominick, you can't just fix everything like this!" she gasped, pressing both her hands flat against his hard chest to stop him.

"You started this war, Aubrey," he rasped. His voice was rough, completely unrecognizable. He grabbed both of her wrists, pinned them above her head, and pressed them deep into the pillows.

His mouth crashed down on hers again. This time, the punishment was gone. It was replaced by a suffocating, desperate need.

He reached behind her back. He found the invisible zipper of her Oscar de la Renta gown and yanked it down. The freezing air conditioning hit her bare spine.

Aubrey gasped sharply. Her entire body shivered. The humiliation of giving in fought a losing battle against her own physical reactions.

Dominick dragged his lips from her mouth, down to her jaw, and pressed hot, wet kisses into her neck.

"Tell me you don't care," he whispered cruelly against her collarbone, his teeth scraping her skin.

Aubrey bit down hard on her lower lip. She refused to say a word. Hot tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and soaked into her blonde hair.

The room was pitch black. Lightning flashed outside the windows, briefly illuminating their tangled bodies. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on.

Dominick stripped away the rest of her defenses. He was dominant, taking complete control, leaving her no space to breathe or retreat.

A sharp pain was quickly followed by a heavy, consuming heat. Aubrey gasped, her fingernails digging deep into Dominick's bare back, dragging down his skin.

Dominick let out a low, guttural groan at the scratch. He didn't slow down. He pushed harder.

It was a physical war. They were both fighting to see who would break first.

Aubrey shattered first. A broken sob tore from her throat as the overwhelming sensation pulled her under.

Hearing her cry, Dominick's rigid muscles froze for a fraction of a second. A flash of raw panic and pity crossed his eyes, though he didn't understand it.

But the possessiveness swallowed him whole again. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and buried his face in her neck.

Hours later, the storm finally broke. The only sound in the bedroom was their heavy, ragged breathing.

Aubrey's body felt like lead. She turned her back to Dominick, curled her knees to her chest, and pulled the thick duvet tightly around her shoulders.

Dominick sat up against the headboard. He lit a cigarette. The cherry burned bright red in the dark room.

Through the smoke, he looked down at Aubrey's shaking shoulders. His chest tightened painfully.

He slowly reached his hand out. He wanted to touch the tangled blonde hair spread across his pillow.

His fingers stopped an inch from her hair. His hand hovered in the air.

Logic slammed back into his brain. He pulled his hand back quickly and crushed the cigarette into the glass ashtray.

"I'll have Taylor send over a PR statement draft tomorrow," he said. His voice was back to the cold, corporate tone. "Memorize the talking points. We need our public narrative about my return to align seamlessly for the press."

Aubrey's spine went completely rigid under the blanket. The tiny bit of warmth she had felt vanished instantly, replaced by freezing ice.

She closed her eyes. Her heart felt completely dead. "Okay," she whispered to the wall.