The wet, slapping sounds of skin against skin echoed off the vaulted ceiling of the ballroom. The audio was so loud it vibrated the crystal glasses on the tables.

An elderly socialite in the front row dropped her champagne glass. It shattered against the marble floor.

For three agonizing seconds, the hundreds of Wall Street elites, politicians, and socialites were frozen in absolute, horrified silence.

Then, the room exploded.

Kevin, who was standing near the front table with a smug smile, turned into a statue. The blood drained from his face so fast he looked like a corpse. He stared at his own naked ass bouncing on the ten-foot screen.

In the back corner, Chantelle let out a blood-curdling scream. She threw her hands over her face and dropped to her knees.

Hyman snapped out of his shock. He sprinted toward the soundboard like a madman.

"Turn it off! Cut the power right fucking now!" Hyman roared, grabbing the sound engineer by the collar.

The engineer slammed his hands against the keyboard, his face pale with panic. "I can't! The system is locked from the outside! It's a hard override!"

On the screen, Kevin's voice boomed through the speakers.

"That disgusting, ugly freak... the thought of touching her makes me sick. You're so much tighter..."

The words hung in the air, completely destroying whatever dignity the Garrison and Wyatt families had left.

Camera flashes erupted like a strobe light. The financial journalists in the room, smelling blood in the water, aggressively snapped photos of the screen and Kevin's horrified face.

Arsenio Wyatt's face turned a violent shade of purple. The humiliation was too much. He marched up to Kevin, pulled his arm back, and slapped him across the face with a sickening crack.

"You piece of shit!" Arsenio screamed. "This is how you treat my family?"

Kevin stumbled back, clutching his bleeding lip. He didn't fight back. He ripped off his suit jacket.

Chantelle, realizing she was about to be eaten alive by the press, rolled her eyes back and collapsed onto the floor, faking a dead faint.

Kevin grabbed her, wrapped his jacket around her head, and dragged her out the side door, fleeing the room like a beaten dog.

In the middle of the chaos, Isidora stood perfectly still.

She lowered her head. Her shoulders began to shake gently. To everyone else, she looked like a heartbroken, humiliated woman crying silently.

But from the stage, Cedrick could see her perfectly.

She wasn't crying. The corners of her lips were curled upward in a cold, victorious smile.

Cedrick's grip on the microphone tightened. His blood ran hot. The sheer audacity of this woman was intoxicating.

Hyman, realizing the computer was useless, grabbed a heavy metal barstool. He swung it with all his might and smashed it directly into the center of the LED screen.

Sparks flew. The glass shattered. The screen finally went black, but the moaning audio continued to echo for another ten seconds before dying out.

Hyman turned around, chest heaving, facing a room full of disgusted investors.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a malicious cyber attack..." Hyman tried to say, his voice cracking.

No one cared. Three major hedge fund managers stood up, buttoned their jackets, and walked out without a word. The Garrison stock was going to bleed tomorrow.

Arsenio walked over to Isidora. He didn't hug her. He leaned in, his eyes filled with venom.

"Don't think I don't know this was you," Arsenio hissed. "You better pray this merger doesn't fall through, or I will end you."

Isidora looked up, her fake tears gone. "I just showed them the truth."

On stage, Cedrick tossed the microphone to the floor. He walked down the steps, his bodyguards flanking him.

He walked straight toward Isidora, his massive frame blocking Arsenio's view.

Cedrick leaned down. His lips brushed against her ear.

"Beautifully done, Miss Wyatt," Cedrick whispered, his voice dark and dangerous. "But are you ready to pay the price?"

The ballroom emptied out rapidly, leaving behind shattered glass and the stench of ruined reputations.

Isidora walked quickly down the quiet, carpeted hallway toward the underground parking garage. She needed to leave before the press found her.

As she passed a half-open VIP lounge door, a large hand shot out from the darkness.

Fingers wrapped around her bicep like a steel vice. She was violently yanked into the room.

The door slammed shut and locked.

Isidora stumbled, falling backward onto a leather sofa. The scent of cedarwood filled her lungs.

She scrambled to her feet, glaring at Cedrick.

"Mr. Garrison," Isidora said, her voice sharp. "Tonight was a disaster. As the head of the family, you need to officially cancel this engagement immediately."

Cedrick sat down slowly in a single armchair. He crossed his long legs, watching her like a hawk watching a mouse.

"Cancel it?" Cedrick asked, his tone dangerously soft. "Why would I do that?"

Isidora stared at him in disbelief. "Kevin is a laughingstock. The merger is toxic. There is zero value left in this marriage!"

Cedrick leaned forward. The air in the room suddenly felt too heavy to breathe.

"Miss Wyatt, do you really think playing a dirty video is enough to flip the Wall Street tables?" Cedrick mocked. "Garrison stock will tank tomorrow, yes. And I will use that panic to buy out the retail investors at rock bottom. You didn't hurt me. You just made me richer."

He stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over her.

"And you?" Cedrick continued. "You are nothing but the sacrificial lamb both families will use to absorb the public's anger."

Isidora's chest tightened, but she refused to back down. "I have more evidence. If they push me, I will burn the Garrison name to the ground."

Cedrick's hand shot out. He grabbed the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, and pulled her face inches from his.

"Try it," Cedrick whispered, his eyes pitch black. "But I promise you, before you strike the match, I will crush your bones into dust."

The heat of his breath hit her skin. The physical proximity sent a violent shiver down her spine, a terrifying echo of last night.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated violently in her clutch.

Cedrick glanced at the bag. He slowly released her neck and gestured with his chin. "Answer it."

Isidora pulled her phone out. The caller ID read: Arsenio Wyatt.

She swiped answer. "What."

"Get your ass to Lenox Hill Hospital right now," Arsenio's voice roared through the speaker. "You will apologize to Kevin and Hyman."

"I will not apologize!" Isidora yelled back. "He cheated! He humiliated me!"

Arsenio let out a cold, venomous laugh. "Fine. Don't apologize. But if you aren't at that hospital in thirty minutes, I'm having your mother's grave exhumed."

The words hit Isidora like a bullet to the chest.

Her blood turned to ice. Her fingers went completely numb, almost dropping the phone.

"You can't do that," Isidora gasped, her voice breaking. "That plot was paid for from her trust! You have no right!"

"Your mother's final resting place is on land I control. Thirty minutes," Arsenio said ruthlessly.

The line went dead.

Isidora's knees gave out. She collapsed back onto the sofa. The air left her lungs. Her mother had passed away years ago, but Arsenio had controlled every aspect of the funeral and burial, placing her in a private cemetery he could hold over Isidora's head. It was the only leverage her father needed.

Cedrick stood perfectly still. He had heard every word. A flicker of cold understanding crossed his eyes. The desperation. The blackmail. She wasn't a scheming gold digger manipulating her way into high society; she was a cornered hostage fighting for her mother's final peace. He still saw her as a plain, unremarkable pawn, but her motive was survival, not greed.

"It seems your grand rebellion couldn't survive a single phone call," Cedrick mocked coldly.

Isidora looked up. Her eyes were bloodshot, but no tears fell. Pure, unadulterated hatred burned in her stare.

"You people are monsters," she whispered.

Cedrick adjusted his expensive cuffs. "Welcome to the real world, Miss Wyatt. Monsters only eat the weak."

He walked to the door, opened it, and looked back at her. "Thirty minutes. I'd hate for your mother's grave to be disturbed."

He walked out.

Isidora closed her eyes. She forced the bile back down her throat. She pushed her ugly glasses up her nose, stood up, and walked toward the hospital.

##