Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was 2:00 AM in Manhattan.

Dalton shifted his weight on the narrow sofa, the leather creaking under him. He couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Audriana's lifeless eyes from his past life. The nightmare refused to let him go.

He sat up abruptly. He ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair and stood up, walking straight toward the outdoor terrace.

The freezing wind and sharp rain hit his face. Dalton pulled a cigar from his case and lit it. The red cherry glowed fiercely in the pitch-black night.

He forced his mind to focus on the timeline. The attacks on his company were about to begin, orchestrated by the last person anyone would suspect. The first domino was already falling.

Dalton blew a thick cloud of smoke into the rain. His eyes were dead and cold. This time, he was going to crush the invisible enemy until there was nothing left but dust.

Inside the master bedroom, Audriana was also wide awake. Her eyes were red and swollen as she stared blankly at the dark ceiling.

The phone on the nightstand suddenly vibrated violently against the wood.

The screen lit up the dark room. The caller ID flashed: Chadwick.

Audriana stared at the name. The name that used to bring her comfort now made her stomach churn with disgust.

She took a deep, shaky breath. She swiped her finger across the glass and pressed the phone to her ear. She didn't say a word.

Chadwick's panicked, hushed voice immediately spilled through the speaker.

"Audriana, baby, listen to me. Tonight was a setup. It's a huge misunderstanding!"

He kept talking, his voice dripping with fake desperation. "I was tricked! I didn't know that drink was spiked. You have to forgive me, please!"

Audriana listened to the pathetic lies. An invisible hand squeezed her lungs, making it hard to breathe. The pain was dull but suffocating.

She cut him off. Her voice was hoarse, but the tone was absolute steel.

"We are done."

Chadwick's tone shifted instantly. The panic vanished, replaced by a nasty, vicious sneer.

"If you dump me," Chadwick threatened, "I'll go to the press. I'll tell everyone about your little sister. I'll tell them how desperate you are for her medical money."

Audriana's eyes widened. The mention of Kimora hit her like a live wire. Her sadness evaporated, instantly replaced by a fierce, protective rage.

"If you touch one hair on Kimora's head," Audriana hissed, her voice trembling with fury, "I will make you regret you were ever born."

She didn't wait for his response. She pulled the phone away, ended the call, and permanently blocked his number.

The adrenaline crashed. Her entire body went limp. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and buried her face in the duvet.

A muffled, broken sob echoed in the large, empty bedroom. She was mourning the two years she had wasted on a monster.

He turned away from the railing and walked back inside, the freezing silence of the penthouse unnerving him. As he crossed the living room in long strides and passed the master bedroom door, a faint, muffled sound stopped him in his tracks. Crying.

His hand stopped mid-air. The ash from his cigar broke off, falling onto the expensive hardwood floor.

He pivoted slowly, his chest tightening as he stopped right in front of the master bedroom door. His hand reached out and gripped the cold metal handle.

He wanted to go in. He wanted to pull her into his arms and take the pain away.

But he stopped. He didn't push the handle down. His rational mind screamed at him that walking in now would only humiliate her further. She needed to grieve.

Dalton slowly let go of the handle. He leaned his broad shoulder against the doorframe. He stood there in the dark, separated by a single piece of wood, listening to her cry for half an hour.

Slowly, the sobs faded. Her breathing leveled out into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Dalton pulled his phone from his pocket. He opened the text thread with Simon.

Find every single debt Chadwick Kowalski owes. Buy them all. Bankrupt him by morning.

He walked back to the sofa and sat down. His dark eyes locked onto the bedroom door, burning with a heavy, obsessive possessiveness.

Hours passed. The sky outside turned a pale, bruised purple. The first light of dawn broke through the clouds, spilling into the penthouse.

A tiny, almost silent click came from the bedroom door.

Audriana was leaving.

Audriana pushed the heavy bedroom door open an inch at a time, terrified of making a sound.

She stepped into the living room. Her eyes immediately found Dalton. He was asleep on the small sofa, his massive frame curled up awkwardly. A deep crease lined his forehead, even in sleep.

She walked softly toward the coffee table. She hesitated for a second, then picked up the folded cashmere throw blanket resting on the armchair. She draped it gently over Dalton's broad shoulders.

Dalton inhaled deeply in his sleep. The faint scent of vanilla reached him. The tight crease between his eyebrows miraculously smoothed out.

Audriana grabbed a pen and a piece of hotel stationery from the desk. She scribbled a fast line across the paper and pinned it down with an empty water glass.

She looked at the dangerous man who had saved her life one last time. She turned around and walked out the door without looking back.

Two hours later, Dalton's eyes snapped open.

He sat up instantly. The blanket slid off his chest. The empty penthouse felt suffocating. His eyes darted to the coffee table and locked onto the piece of paper under the glass.

He snatched it up.

Thank you for your help. I will dry-clean the coat and mail it back to you.

Dalton stared at the polite, distant words. A bitter smile touched the corner of his mouth. He carefully folded the small piece of paper and slid it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

He pulled out his phone and called Simon. His voice was freezing.

"I want his expulsion processed by noon. Have the notice on my desk."

Miles away, Audriana sat on a rattling subway train. She finally walked up the cracked steps of her cheap apartment building in Brooklyn.

She pushed the squeaky door open. The familiar, faint smell of damp mildew hit her nose.

Hearing the door, a young girl in a faded nightgown stepped out of the bedroom. A white cloth was tied securely over her eyes.

It was Kimora Goodman, her half-sister, who had lost her sight in a car crash.

"Audriana? Is that you?" Kimora asked, her voice soft and sweet.

Audriana forced her exhausted facial muscles to smile. She dropped her bag and rushed over, gently holding Kimora's arms.

"I'm here," Audriana lied smoothly. "I stayed at the library too late and crashed at a friend's dorm."

Kimora nodded obediently. She reached out and grabbed Audriana's forearm, holding on tight. She looked completely helpless and dependent.

Audriana looked at the white cloth covering her sister's eyes. A fierce determination flared in her chest. She had to save enough money for the cornea transplant.

Kimora suddenly tilted her head. She gripped Audriana's arm a little tighter and sniffed the air.

"Why do you smell like men's cologne?" Kimora asked innocently.

Audriana's heart skipped a beat. She bit her lower lip, her mind racing. "The subway was packed. I must have brushed up against someone."

Kimora didn't press the issue. She lowered her head. Audriana let out a quiet breath of relief, her heart still hammering against her ribs from the close call. She gently patted her sister's shoulder, vowing silently to protect this fragile peace at all costs.

Audriana guided Kimora to the couch and walked into the cramped bathroom. She stared at her pale, exhausted face in the cracked mirror.

She turned on the faucet and splashed freezing water onto her face, trying to wash away the nightmare of the hotel.

Her phone, sitting on the edge of the sink, suddenly vibrated. A news alert popped up on the screen. Then another. Then five more in rapid succession.

Audriana dried her hands and picked up the phone. She looked at the screen. The blood in her veins turned to ice.

Twitter trending 1: Wall Street Tyrant Dalton West's Mystery Fiancée Exposed!

Beneath the headline was a blurry photo from the hotel hallway. It showed Dalton wrapping his massive coat around her. Her face was hidden, but her distinct height and hair color were visible.

The phone slipped from her numb fingers and clattered onto the bathroom tiles.

Her quiet life was over.

The air pressure inside the top-floor boardroom of the West Corporation headquarters was dangerously low.

Dalton sat at the head of the massive mahogany table. His face was carved from stone.

A massive holographic screen dominated the far wall, scrolling rapidly through live data from Twitter, Instagram, and every major gossip forum in the country.

Eleanor Vance, the Director of Public Relations, pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up her nose. Her hands shook slightly as she read from her tablet.

"Sir, the photo is blurry, but the internet is already crowdsourcing her identity," Eleanor reported nervously. "They are analyzing the brand of the coat and her physical proportions."

She swiped her screen, bringing up a screenshot on the main board. "Someone already identified the coat as your custom piece. There is currently a hundred-thousand-dollar bounty for anyone who can provide her real name."

Dalton's index finger tapped against the polished wood table. Tap. Tap. Tap. Every strike made the executives in the room flinch.

Eleanor swallowed hard and offered the standard corporate playbook. "I suggest we use a cold treatment. Ignore it. Or we issue a brief statement calling it a misunderstanding."

She looked at the financial data on her screen. "If we confirm an engagement, the stock price will fluctuate. The board hates uncertainty regarding the heir's marriage."

Dalton's finger stopped tapping. He raised his dark, piercing eyes and stared at Eleanor.

"No."

He stood up. His tall frame cast a long shadow over the table. He walked toward the holographic screen and pointed a long finger directly at the blurry photo of Audriana.

"Deploy every media asset we own," Dalton ordered, his voice leaving absolutely no room for debate. "Crush the trending topics. Wipe them off the servers."

He turned to the head of IT. "Block every search keyword related to her physical description."

Eleanor's jaw dropped. She stared at him in disbelief. This level of capital mobilization was reserved for national-level corporate disasters, not a tabloid rumor.

"Mr. West," Eleanor pleaded, trying to inject reason. "Burning this much capital for an unidentified woman is highly irrational-"

Dalton snapped his head toward her. His eyes were like drawn blades, slicing right through her.

"She is not an unidentified woman," Dalton said, pronouncing every word with lethal precision. "She is my future wife."

A collective gasp echoed around the boardroom. The executives finally understood. The tyrant had drawn his bottom line.

Eleanor immediately dropped her gaze. "Understood, sir. Executing now."

Dalton wasn't finished. "If any media outlet continues to dig into this, trigger the legal department. Hit them with bankruptcy lawsuits under the Bankruptcy Code. Bury them in litigation."

"Meeting adjourned," Dalton snapped.

The executives scrambled out of their leather chairs, wiping cold sweat from their foreheads as they rushed out to execute the insane orders.

Only Simon remained in the room. He walked up to Dalton and handed him a thin manila folder.

"Her background check, sir. Including her class schedule at Columbia University and her daily routine."

Dalton opened the folder. His eyes scanned the pages. He saw the three part-time jobs she worked. He saw the medical bills for Kimora's eyes. His chest tightened painfully.

In his past life, he had thought she was just another gold digger. He had never bothered to look at the crushing weight she carried on her small shoulders.

He closed the folder. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing the suffocating guilt back down into his gut.

"Call the best ophthalmologist at Johns Hopkins," Dalton ordered Simon. "Get them to New York."

Dalton's private cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. The caller ID showed the head of the West family elders. They were calling about the engagement rumors.

A cruel, mocking smile touched Dalton's lips. He hit the red decline button.

He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of the chair. It was time to deal with Cordelia.