Bought A Gigolo, Got A Billionaire CEO

Jarrett carried Alexis down the hallway, away from the staring eyes and the covered gurney. He found a quiet, empty waiting alcove near the elevators and gently set her down on a vinyl chair.

Before Alexis could even process the numbness spreading through her limbs, the rapid clatter of hard-soled shoes echoed down the corridor.

Case Bridges, the Mills family's corporate lawyer, sprinted toward them. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his tie loosened, and he clutched a thick leather briefcase to his chest like a shield. He had received the automated emergency alert from the Mills Corporation's executive health protocol the moment August was admitted, and he hadn't stopped running since. He spotted Alexis slumped in the chair and Harriette standing a few feet away, sobbing hysterically. He rushed over, his breathing ragged.

Case unzipped his briefcase with shaking hands. He pulled out a massive stack of financial documents and shoved them toward Alexis.

"The accounts," Case gasped out, his voice trembling. "All the corporate accounts are frozen. The bank initiated a total lockdown an hour ago."

Alexis stared at the papers. She reached out mechanically and took them. The sharp edge of the top page sliced the pad of her index finger, but she didn't feel the cut. She looked at the bold red numbers. Massive deficits.

"This isn't mismanagement," Case said, his voice dropping to a horrified whisper. "It was a coordinated short squeeze. Someone drained the core assets from the inside out."

He reached over and tapped a specific signature line on the third page.

"It was Dollie Warner. Your aunt," Case said, looking at Alexis with pity. "And she had an inside partner who provided the proprietary data to trigger the margin calls."

He flipped the page. "Carlos Martin."

Alexis stared at her ex-husband's name printed in stark black ink. Her fingernails dug so hard into her palms that the skin broke, warm blood seeping into the creases of her hands.

The cheating. The fake photos. The sudden, brutal divorce. It wasn't about another woman. It was a smokescreen to distract her while Carlos and her own aunt butchered her father's company and drove him off a roof.

Harriette heard the lawyer's words. The realization that her own sister-in-law and son-in-law had murdered her husband snapped the final, fragile thread of her sanity. She turned her wild, bloodshot eyes to her daughter. "Did you know?" Harriette hissed, taking a trembling step forward. "Did you know about this and say nothing? !" Alexis was too paralyzed by shock to form a single word. Her silence was the spark that ignited the powder keg. Harriette let out a screech that sounded barely human. Her eyes rolled wildly. She lunged past the lawyer, throwing her entire body weight at Alexis.

Harriette's hands clamped down around Alexis's throat.

"You brought him into this family!" Harriette screamed, spit flying from her lips, her face contorted into a demonic mask. "You married that monster!"

Alexis couldn't breathe. Her airway was crushed shut. Her face rapidly turned a deep, mottled purple. But she didn't raise her hands to fight back. Her arms hung limp at her sides, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. She wanted the pain to stop. She wanted it all to end.

Jarrett's eyes flared with pure violence.

He closed the distance in a fraction of a second. His large hand clamped around Harriette's wrist like a steel vice. With one brutal, calculated yank, he tore the crazed woman off Alexis and threw her backward.

Harriette hit the floor hard. She scrambled wildly, her hand blindly grasping the base of a heavy metal IV pole standing near the wall.

With a feral shriek, Harriette swung the solid steel base upward, aiming directly for Alexis's skull.

Jarrett threw his arm out to block it, but the angle was too tight. The heavy metal edge scraped violently against the back of his hand, tearing the skin, before slamming sickeningly into the side of Alexis's forehead.

The skin split open instantly. Bright red blood gushed from the wound, streaming down the side of Alexis's pale face, dripping onto her collar.

The world spun violently. The screaming, the fluorescent lights, the smell of blood-it all blurred into a dull hum. Alexis's eyes rolled back, and her body went entirely limp, sliding sideways off the chair.

Jarrett caught her before she hit the ground. He pulled her bleeding head against his chest, his heart slamming against his ribs.

"Get a fucking gurney!" Jarrett roared, his voice shaking the glass windows of the alcove.

Three hospital security guards finally rushed in, tackling the screaming Harriette to the floor and pinning her down.

Nurses ran over with a crash cart. Jarrett lifted Alexis onto the flat mattress. As they wheeled her away, he stood in the hallway, blood dripping from his own torn hand.

He looked down at the scattered bankruptcy documents on the floor. He stared at the names Dollie Warner and Carlos Martin. A cold, lethal shadow fell over his face.