Isidora's fingernails bit so hard into her palms that the skin nearly broke. The physical pain was the only thing keeping her from collapsing under Cedrick's suffocating presence.

Isidora's breath hitched for a fraction of a second, but she instantly forced her racing heart to steady. She met his suffocating gaze, her eyes completely devoid of the terror he expected.

"It is a cheap, off-the-shelf brand, Mr. Garrison," Isidora replied, her voice eerily calm and laced with a subtle defiance. "I apologize if it offends your refined senses."

Cedrick stared down at her cakey, hideous face. His dark eyes narrowed, dissecting her lie. The scent wasn't just familiar; it was seared into his memory from a single, chaotic night. The same perfume that had clung to the skin of the woman in his hotel room. And now, this creature, his nephew's fiancée, was wearing it. He opened his mouth to tear her apart.

Before he could speak, the side doors of the ballroom burst open.

Kevin marched in. His face was flushed red with anger. He had just received a text that Chantelle was throwing a tantrum outside the hotel lobby.

Kevin ignored Isidora completely. He walked straight to his father, Hyman.

"Dad, I have an urgent email from the London office. I need to step out for twenty minutes," Kevin lied through his teeth.

Cedrick slowly turned his head. He looked at his nephew like he was looking at a cockroach.

"What email is more important than your own engagement party?" Cedrick's voice cut through the room like a blade. "Or is the stray cat you keep on the side meowing too loudly outside?"

Kevin's face drained of color. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He didn't dare talk back to the man who held the family's purse strings.

Instead, Kevin shot a vicious, hateful glare at Isidora, silently blaming her for his humiliation.

While the crowd's attention shifted to the tension between the uncle and nephew, Isidora took a step back.

She needed to get out of Cedrick's line of sight. Now.

She turned and walked quickly down the side corridor. She pushed open the heavy walnut doors at the end of the hall and slipped into the VIP cloakroom.

The room was pitch black, smelling strongly of mothballs and expensive damp wool.

Isidora leaned her back against the door, pressing her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating so fast it hurt.

Before she could even take a full breath, the brass handle behind her turned.

A massive force shoved the door open, pushing Isidora forward.

Cedrick slipped into the dark room. He reached behind him and pushed the lock. The metal clicked with a terrifying finality.

Isidora scrambled backward, but her spine hit the wall of heavy winter coats.

Cedrick didn't hesitate. He stepped into her space, his large hands grabbing both of her wrists and pinning them against the wall above her head.

He pressed his body against hers. His knee forced its way between her thighs, completely trapping her.

Isidora gasped, her chest heaving against his hard chest.

Cedrick lowered his head. His nose brushed against the skin of her neck. He inhaled deeply, like a predator catching the scent of blood.

"A cheap, off-the-shelf brand?" Cedrick's voice was a rough, vibrating growl against her collarbone. "You wore this exact scent in my hotel room. Do you take me for a fucking idiot, Miss Wyatt?"

Isidora's body went rigid. She turned her face away. "Please show some respect. I am Kevin's fiancée!"

The word triggered something violent inside him.

"Fiancée?" Cedrick sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. His rough thumb pressed hard against her jawline, gripping her chin with bruising force. "Was sleeping with me part of the plan? Did you think one night in my bed was your audition, and when you didn't get a callback, you settled for my fool of a nephew?"

Isidora sucked in a sharp breath. She shoved her hands against his chest, trying to push him away. "This is none of your business!"

Cedrick's hand shot up, his fingers tightening their grip. He forced her to look at him.

"You reek of hidden agendas," Cedrick said, his eyes burning with a dark, calculating rage. "You play the frightened mouse, but you crawled into my bed without an invitation. Now you're set to marry into my family. Don't you dare tell me this is a coincidence."

He was certain of it. This hideous woman had seduced him, played him for a fool, and was now using this pathetic engagement to claw her way into the Garrison fortune. He believed her ugly makeup and dowdy clothes were her true self, the same self he had inexplicably taken to his bed. The memory was a brand of shame on his pride.

Isidora let out a cold, mocking laugh. The fear vanished, replaced by pure defiance.

"You think too highly of your family's allure, Mr. Garrison," Isidora whispered, her eyes locking onto his without a shred of fear. "I am merely surviving a business arrangement. If I had any actual power in this game, I wouldn't be standing in a dark closet being threatened by a tyrant."

Cedrick's pupils dilated. The insult hit his ego like a sledgehammer.

A dark, dangerous heat radiated from his body. He lowered his head, his mouth crashing down toward hers. He needed to punish her for the insult, for the deception. He needed to taste the lie on her lips and remind her—and himself—of the night she had so clearly forgotten, a night he now saw as the first move in her disgusting, calculated game.

Just as his lips brushed against hers, heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway outside.

"Isidora! Where the hell are you hiding, you ugly bitch?!" Kevin's voice screamed through the wood.

The door handle rattled violently.

Isidora stopped breathing. Her eyes widened in absolute terror. She pressed her hands flat against Cedrick's chest, silently begging him to stop.

Cedrick paused. He looked at the rattling door handle, then down at Isidora's trembling lips.

A cruel, twisted smile spread across his face. Instead of stepping back, Cedrick pressed his hips harder against hers.

Kevin kicked the heavy walnut door. The wood groaned under his expensive leather shoe.

"Useless freak," Kevin muttered loudly outside. His footsteps finally echoed down the hallway as he walked away to answer his ringing phone.

Inside the dark cloakroom, Isidora shoved Cedrick's chest with all her strength.

This time, he let her push him.

Her fingers shook violently as she fumbled to button the collar of her dress that had twisted in his grip.

"Psychopath," Isidora hissed under her breath.

She didn't wait for his reaction. She grabbed the door handle, unlocked it, and practically ran out into the brightly lit corridor.

Cedrick remained standing in the dark. He slowly raised his hand, his thumb rubbing the lingering scent of iris off his skin. His eyes were pitch black, calculating and lethal. He adjusted his cuffs and stepped out of the room.

Isidora power-walked toward the side lounge, trying to calm her racing pulse.

As she turned the corner, she froze.

Chantelle, wearing a scandalous red silk dress, was standing in the middle of the lounge. Two security guards were trying to block her from entering the main ballroom.

A crowd of socialites had already gathered, their eyes wide with gossip.

Kevin pushed through the crowd. He shoved one of the guards hard in the chest and wrapped his arms protectively around Chantelle.

Chantelle buried her face in Kevin's chest. She pointed a manicured finger directly at Isidora, who had just walked in.

"Kevin, she threatened me!" Chantelle sobbed loudly. "She sent me a text saying if I didn't leave you, she would hire someone to throw acid on my face!"

It was a blatant, ridiculous lie. But the crowd gasped. Whispers of "vicious" and "psycho" rippled through the socialites.

Kevin's face twisted into pure rage. He let go of Chantelle and marched straight toward Isidora.

He raised his hand high, fully intending to slap her across the face in front of everyone.

Isidora didn't flinch. She didn't blink. She stared directly into Kevin's eyes with a look so cold and dead that Kevin's hand froze mid-air.

"You disgusting, ugly bitch," Kevin spat, lowering his hand but raising his voice. "You think your cheap threats will make Chantelle leave? Look at yourself! You look like a rotting corpse. If it wasn't for the trust fund, the thought of touching you would make me vomit!"

The socialites laughed out loud. The humiliation was absolute.

Isidora looked past Kevin. Her father, Arsenio, was standing at the back of the crowd. He didn't step forward to defend his daughter. He just looked at her with deep disgust, his eyes filled with absolute fury. He was violently embarrassed that her inability to control the situation was publicly jeopardizing the Wyatt-Garrison merger and threatening millions in corporate assets.

Isidora stood alone under the chandelier. Her spine was perfectly straight. Behind her thick glasses, there were no tears.

She slowly slipped her hand into her clutch purse. Her thumb found the home button of her phone. She unlocked it blindly.

Just as she was about to press the screen, a cold, mocking laugh echoed from the marble pillars.

Cedrick stepped out of the shadows. He had one hand in his pocket. The sheer weight of his presence instantly silenced the laughing crowd.

He walked slowly toward Kevin. His eyes flicked to Chantelle, stripping her down to nothing with a single look.

"Since when do the men of the Garrison family behave like dogs in heat in public?" Cedrick's voice was quiet, but it carried a lethal threat.

Kevin swallowed hard, his face turning pale. "Uncle Cedrick, this woman, she-"

"Shut your mouth," Cedrick cut him off. "You turn a private family engagement into a public circus over a woman you can buy for ten dollars on Hollywood Boulevard?" Cedrick's gaze didn't even flicker toward Isidora. His wrath was entirely focused on his nephew's incompetence. "You are bleeding the Garrison name dry in front of Wall Street."

Chantelle gasped, her face turning bright red. She opened her mouth to scream, but one look at Cedrick's dead eyes made her snap her mouth shut.

Isidora looked at Cedrick in shock. Why was the man who had just assaulted her in a closet stepping in now?

Cedrick caught her looking. He tilted his head slightly. A dark, amused glint flashed in his eyes.

He wasn't helping her. He was enjoying the show. He wanted to see what the "ugly, scheming woman" would do next.

Cedrick turned to Hyman, who had just arrived, sweating profusely.

"End this circus," Cedrick ordered. "I want the official toast to begin in the main ballroom in exactly ten minutes. Do not make me wait."

The security guards aggressively herded the whispering guests back to their assigned seats in the grand ballroom. The circus in the lounge was temporarily swept under the rug.

On the second floor, behind a wall of one-way glass, Cedrick sat in the private cigar lounge.

His assistant, Jarvis, clipped a Cuban cigar and lit it for him.

Cedrick took a slow drag. The thick, blue-gray smoke curled around his face. His eyes were locked onto the floor below, tracking Isidora as she stood alone in the shadows near the back of the room.

He remembered his childhood in the Garrison estate. The cold floors. The hunger. The way these same hypocritical family members had driven his mother to her grave.

The heavy oak door opened. Hyman Garrison walked in, wiping his forehead with a silk handkerchief.

Hyman walked over and placed a leather folder on the table. "Cedrick, this is the final merger agreement. Once the toast is done, the Wyatt shipping lines will officially merge with our portfolio."

Cedrick didn't even glance at the folder. He tapped his ash into the crystal tray.

"You're willing to let the heir of this family marry the laughingstock of New York for a few rusty cargo ships?" Cedrick asked, his voice flat.

Hyman swallowed hard. "Isidora is... plain. Yes. But she is obedient. She is easy to control. Kevin will have his fun and settle down eventually."

Obedient.

Cedrick thought of the sharp claws she had bared in the cloakroom. He thought of the burning heat of her skin last night. A dark, mocking smile touched his lips.

"Obedient," Cedrick repeated. He stood up and walked to the glass. "Hyman, your biggest failure in life is that you can never tell the difference between the prey and the predator."

Hyman looked confused. "The PR team has bought off the press. The scandal won't leak. But we need you to lead the toast to calm the Wall Street investors."

Cedrick crushed the cigar into the ashtray.

"I didn't come back to New York to clean up your shit," Cedrick said coldly. He walked toward the door. "But this party is getting interesting. I'll do the toast."

Downstairs, Isidora was locked inside a bathroom stall.

Her fingers flew across her phone screen. Using a hidden VPN node, she bypassed the hotel's firewall. She hacked directly into The Pierre's central Audio-Visual control system.

It took her less than two minutes.

She uploaded the high-definition video file she had recorded in the Plaza suite. She set it as the primary, un-skippable source for the main LED screen.

Isidora looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The ugly glasses. The fake freckles.

She smiled. It was a terrifying, destructive smile.

She walked out of the bathroom, grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and walked to the very front row of the ballroom.

On stage, the MC tapped the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the head of the Garrison family, Mr. Cedrick Garrison, for the toast!"

The room erupted into applause.

Cedrick walked onto the stage. He took the microphone.

His eyes scanned the crowd and immediately locked onto Isidora in the front row.

Isidora raised her champagne glass. She looked right at him, her eyes completely devoid of fear. There was only the manic energy of someone about to burn the house down.

Cedrick's instincts flared. Her eyes were too bright. She looked like a woman holding a lit match over a barrel of gasoline.

He looked at the teleprompter, then ignored it.

A slow smirk spread across his face. He leaned into the microphone.

"Tonight," Cedrick said, his voice echoing through the massive room, "is going to be a night no one forgets."

The second the words left his mouth, Isidora's thumb pressed the "Execute" button on her phone screen.

The massive LED screen behind Cedrick, which had been displaying the Garrison family crest, suddenly went pitch black.

A second of dead silence passed.

Then, the screen violently flashed back to life.

A deafening, high-pitched moan blasted through the Dolby surround sound speakers.

The entire ballroom was hit with the crystal-clear, ten-foot-tall image of Kevin's naked body thrusting into Chantelle on the hotel bed.