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"Enjoy the Presidential Suite with your assistant. I sincerely hope you brought cash." / Chapter 5 / 20

Chapter 5 - The Shredded Mask

Elena didn't move an inch. She simply looked down at him with an expression of profound, chilling indifference.

"Talk about what, Harrison? The business trip to Miami three months ago? Or the jewelry you expensed to my trust fund while telling me you were working late at the office?" Elena's voice carried effortlessly across the silent foyer.

Harrison stumbled backward, his face turning an ashen shade of grey. "You... you know about that?"

"I know everything," Elena said smoothly, stepping down the stairs one measured step at a time. "I know that every single major contract your firm ever landed was secured because my father’s old business partners took pity on my husband. I know that without my personal guarantee, your credit rating is lower than a college dropout's. And most importantly, Harrison... I know that you thought you could treat me like furniture while playing house with a girl young enough to be our daughter."

"Elena, please!" Harrison dropped to his knees right there on the marble floor of the foyer, grabbing the hem of her trousers in utter desperation. "I made a mistake! A temporary lapse in judgment! I love you! We’ve been together for seven years—don't throw that away over a meaningless distraction!"

Elena looked down at him, her gaze devoid of pity. She slowly pulled her fabric from his trembling grip.

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I stepped past the door frame, my leather shoes clicking softly against the linoleum floor.

I stepped past the door frame, my leather shoes clicking softly against...

The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the freezing slate beneath my spine. The blinding white vortex of snow kicked up by the downdraft burned my eyes, but I forced my lids open, locking my gaze onto the amber visor of the rescue specialist dropping out of the sky.

The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the...

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking against the pristine hospital linoleum. He reached for the tray table, his fingers brushing the edge of the papers. His voice was low, coated in a practiced, corporate calm that made my stomach churn worse than the spiked blood pressure.

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking agai...

"Seven years of loyalty, Harrison. Seven years of covering your mistakes, balancing your books, and letting you take all the credit so your fragile ego could survive," she whispered softly. "You didn't just throw us away in London; you handed me the matchbox. And now, you get to watch everything burn down to the studs."

She turned to the attorneys waiting by the door. "Escort Mr. Miller off the premises. And make sure the local precinct has copies of the corporate embezzlement logs ready for review."

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