The door slammed.

Ivette slapped me.

"I only gave him the pigment to make it up to him. Now you've scared him off—happy? Since you clearly don't respect me, forget the wedding. I'll deal with Jerick first and come back to it later!"

The look in her eyes—pure disgust—hit colder than her slap.

Everything I'd done for her, everything I took on... none of it mattered. Not compared to Jerick pouting.

She turned to leave.

I grabbed my phone. "Cut all ties with Bianchi Corp."

Ten minutes later, Bianchi Corp tanked—lost a billion in value.

When I got home, a crowd was already camped at my door. Ivette stood front and center, looking pissed.

Her parents, Philip and Melanie, rushed over and opened my car door like I was royalty.

"Noah, please... you have to stop," Melanie begged.

"If you don't, we're really done for," Philip added.

I waved them off. "This isn't some street corner hangout. Clear out."

Philip's face twisted in panic. "Did... Did Ivette do something to upset you?"

I stared Ivette down, stone cold.

"Your daughter thinks she's too good for me and wants to boost her side piece's status with my family's name? Then I've got no problem taking back everything I gave."

Melanie went pale. "Noah, everyone in Nordica knows you're engaged to Ivette. Who would dare—"

I smiled. "Ask your precious daughter."

Ivette stiffened. Jaw clenched. Eyes darting everywhere but at her parents.

I didn't wait. "Not talking? Cool, I will. She let Jerick use the blood from her first time as paint—and funded his art show with my family's money. What do you think that makes us look like?

"Wedding's off. Since you're all so tight with Jerick, let 'em be together. My family's out."

Philip and Melanie crumbled, begging.

"Noah, we failed as parents. Please—just one more chance. For her. For the Bianchi family."

Ivette yanked them up, eyes blazing. "You're always flexing your power. I'm done being a pawn in some family deal! What's so wrong with chasing love? Sure, you can make my parents kneel with money, but you'll never buy my love!"

I laughed in her face. Cold.

Wasn't she the one who raced to lock down a wedding before her sister could? Now I'm the one flexing?

I backed her family for years—resources, support—because she played her part. Never thought the second she got what she wanted, she'd start acting like love was priceless.

All that effort? Turned into a bullet labeled 'power trip', and she fired it straight at my head.

Smack!

Philip slapped her hard. "You disgrace! Do you even get we're about to go bankrupt because of you? Get down and apologize to Noah. If he doesn't forgive you, you stay on the ground until the wedding."

After her parents left, it finally clicked to her—I might actually be done this time.

She clutched her shirt, voice shaking. "Please... spare Jerick. I'll stay with you, okay?"

I just felt stupid. All my edge went into business. When it came to feelings? I was naive.

She forgot one thing—everything she had was because of me. Wrecking her would take one word.

Didn't even take her two hours to forget. Next thing I know, she's kissing Jerick at my door.

Then she swiped $30 million off my card to throw him a giant art show.

On my phone? A livestream of them smiling for cameras in front of a painting Jerick made—with her blood from their first night.

"We didn't cheat. Jerick's my childhood sweetheart. We were meant to be."

The second she said it, the press went wild.

Elite-family drama was their oxygen—they'd dig through trash like their paychecks depended on it.

"Ms. Bianchi, what about Noah Northam? Weren't you two engaged?"

Her gaze slipped. After a beat, she smiled. "Mistaken love just shows you what real love is. I thank Mr. Northam for helping me find my heart."

She might as well have said I was the clingy one, using power to trap her—when she's the one who cheated.

I laughed. She was out here trashing my family's name on live.

The harder she scrubbed her image, the dirtier she looked to me. No way I was letting her off easy.

On the way to the exhibition, my phone buzzed again.

Saw the caller ID. Picked up calm as ever.

A steady voice asked, "You sure this marriage isn't just payback?"

I smirked. "Don't you want the market share Bianchi just tanked? This marriage? Pure strategy. Win-win."

Shea Serrano paused, then let out this soft little laugh. "But I'm not some bargaining chip. I want more than a cold alliance. I want your heart."

Didn't see that coming.

"If you don't betray me, then take it."

She laughed again—light, like silver wind chimes. "Perfect. See you at the wedding."

When I rolled up to the exhibition, my bodyguards got to work—wrecking the place.

I grabbed the mic.

"Ivette Bianchi, you said you're chasing true love. Then why'd you bankroll Jerick's show with NORTHAM money?"

The second I dropped my family's name, it hit her like a truck.

She froze, face drained.

Every camera locked in, waiting.

I kept going. "Right. You and Jerick go way back. So close, you let him use your FIRST TIME blood as paint. If he meant that much, why not call off the engagement? Or were you just too hooked on my family's money?"

Jerick's face darkened.

I dropped the real bomb. "Jerick Weiner, you knew she was getting married and still wanted to be best man. So what is it—couldn't let go, or just wanted to humiliate the Northams?"

The crowd exploded.

Reporters rushed forward.

"Is what Mr. Northam said true? Were you really about to marry him?"

Jerick's face twisted under the pressure.

"Noah, what's your deal?" he snapped. "If you weren't clinging to her—flexing power, threatening her family with bankruptcy—do you think she'd even agree to marry you?

"I don't care what you do to me. I'll love her 'til I die!"

His voice cracked, high and frantic, throwing punches with every word.

Cameras clicked like crazy. Some reporters even cheered.

I crossed my arms, smirking. "That's your idea of 'flexing power'? Let me show you how it's done."

On cue, my bodyguards yanked down the painting—their little trophy—and smashed it straight over Jerick's head.

Glass flew. Blood poured. The painting got stained all over again.

Ivette's eyes went wild—red, furious, feral.

Didn't faze me. I faced the press cool as ice.

"Tomorrow's headline better say: 'Fiancée cheats before the wedding. Noah Northam strikes back.' One word off, and you're blacklisted by my family for life."

Reporters nodded like their jobs depended on it.

I strolled over, tapped Ivette's cheek, and snorted. "That? That's real FLEX. You wanted Jerick famous? I'm just speeding it up."

I opened the car door, glanced back—she was scrambling to stop his bleeding.

"Oh, and that $30 mil you stole? Your family's paying it back. Times a hundred."

That cracked her. She snapped. Pointed at me, eyes blazing. "Just you wait!"

The next day, Ivette went live from Jerick's hospital room, cameras locked on her.

I watched from my office, eyes like ice, barely glancing at Philip and Melanie hovering nearby.

On-screen, Ivette looked wrecked—red eyes, pale face, drained. Jerick was out cold on the bed, head wrapped up, blood still leaking through. Every so often, he let out a weak groan.

"First off," she said, voice shaking like it was staged, "I'm sorry to everyone who's worried. I was too weak. I couldn't protect the guy I love... or my family."

She kept going. "Noah Northam had me on a leash with power and money. I didn't even have the freedom to breathe."

Her gaze dropped to Jerick, eyes glassy. "Jerick's the only one who actually cares about me."

Then she went full dramatic. "Yeah, Noah's a powerhouse in business. My family owes him for that. But he ran my life—who I saw, where I went. Just 'cause he thought Jerick was a bad influence, he went all out to crush him. Spread lies. Tried to erase him. I'm done."

She sucked in a shaky breath, tears running. "Noah, I know you're watching. I know you're still threatening my family. Please—just let us go. I only ever wanted real love. But you punished me with my family's future and Jerick's blood. When did you turn into this?"

The livestream chat blew up instantly—wall-to-wall rage.

[Wait, she lived like THAT? Poor girl was basically locked in a golden cage!]

[Noah Northam is a manipulative freak. Dude deserves to rot.]

[Team Ivette all the way! Real love > everything. Ride or die!]

Then Ivette dropped the bomb: she was starting her own company.

"I'm cutting ties with the past. This new business is my way of building a future with Jerick. It won't be easy, but if he's with me, that's enough."

She played the camera like a pro, soaking up every ounce of pity. The internet lost its mind.

In seconds, Northam Corp was public enemy number one. Their socials got slammed non-stop.

Inside HQ, people were freaking out. Some already threw in their resignations.

Within an hour, the stock tanked—down ten percent and crashing fast.

Longtime partners saw the fire and bailed, ditching us before they got scorched.

I stared at Ivette's fake, tear-streaked face on screen and felt like throwing up.

That hate? It hit deep—like bone-deep kind of hate.

I wiped the cold sweat off my face and hit the phone. "Legal. Conference room. Five minutes."

I'd been playing the long game, pulling strings from the shadows. This was it.

Once the internet peaked, I'd rip Ivette's mask off and shut every door behind her.

Meanwhile, my office was drowning in Philip and Melanie's begging.

"Noah, we messed up. Just give us one more chance!"

"If not... we still have a younger daughter. She can marry you! I'll cut Ivette off right now!"

I said nothing. Their tears didn't deserve a response.

Philip looked wrecked. "Noah... there's really no way to fix this?"

I stared at the paused livestream—blood still smeared across Jerick's 'art'—and spoke ice-cold.

"There's no coming back from this. Three days. I want your family gone."