From Ruined Wife To Tycoon's Obsession

Everly forced her spine to stay perfectly straight until the elevator doors closed. The moment she stepped out of the lobby and pushed through the revolving glass doors, her knees buckled.

She hit the exterior brick wall of the building, leaning her weight against it as she gasped for air. The pain in her lower back throbbed with every beat of her heart.

Above her, the sky broke open. A freezing, violent Manhattan rainstorm poured down without warning.

The icy water instantly soaked through the thin fabric of her ruined gown, plastering it to her skin. Everly didn't try to find shelter. Her mind had completely detached from her body.

She walked blindly into the torrential rain. The image of Arthur's dead, gray face played on a loop behind her eyelids, overlapping with the cold, dead look in Carson's eyes.

The rain grew heavier, blurring the streetlights into smeared streaks of yellow and red. Everly reached an intersection. There was no crosswalk signal. She didn't look left or right. She just stepped off the curb onto the slick asphalt.

A blinding set of LED headlights pierced the wall of rain, hitting her directly in the face.

Everly squeezed her eyes shut against the glare.

The deafening screech of rubber tearing against wet asphalt filled the air. A massive, black Maybach slid sideways across the slick road.

The heavy vehicle couldn't stop in time. The right side of the front bumper slammed hard into Everly's left hip.

The sheer force of the impact lifted her off the ground. She flew backward through the air and hit the flooded street with a violent splash.

Her knees and elbows scraped violently against the rough pavement, tearing the skin away. Blood immediately mixed with the puddles of dirty rainwater. Everly lay flat on her stomach, her body completely numb. She didn't even have the breath to moan.

The Maybach rocked to a halt. The rear passenger door swung open.

A massive black umbrella snapped open. A pair of long legs clad in custom-tailored trousers stepped out of the car.

Guilford Lancaster stepped into the puddle, his leather shoes splashing the water. He radiated an aura of absolute, freezing authority.

He stood over Everly's prone body. His dark eyes narrowed, flashing with a mixture of extreme caution and deep disgust.

His bodyguard immediately stepped forward, shining a high-powered tactical flashlight directly into Everly's face, checking her hands for weapons.

Everly groaned. She forced her neck up. The freezing rain ran down her pale cheeks. The flashlight blinded her, forcing her to squint against the harsh beam.

Guilford looked down at her. He saw the torn, blood-stained evening gown, the messy hair, the pathetic sprawl on the street. He let out a low, harsh scoff.

"Insurance scammers in New York are getting desperate," Guilford said, his voice a deep, mocking baritone. "Throwing yourself in front of a car in a gown? You really put money into the production."

The word "scammer" hit Everly's ears. A jolt of pure, unadulterated fury shocked her nervous system back to life.

She clamped her jaw shut. She planted her bleeding hands on the rough asphalt, trying to push her upper body off the ground to scream at him.

But the fresh trauma to her hip, combined with the agonizing pain in her spine, caused her arms to give out. She collapsed back into the muddy water with a splash.

Before Guilford could speak again, the satellite phone in his breast pocket vibrated. The specific ringtone made his jaw tighten.

He pulled the phone out and answered it immediately. "Speak."

He listened for two seconds, his back turning slightly away from Everly. "The merger is compromised? Lock down the board. I'll be there in ten minutes."

He hung up. He glanced at his platinum watch. He had zero patience left for this street theater.

He looked at his assistant standing by the open car door.

"Pay her off," Guilford ordered coldly. "Make sure she doesn't call the cops and cause a delay."

Without another glance at the woman bleeding on the street, Guilford turned around and slid back into the luxurious, dry interior of the Maybach.

The heavy door slammed shut, instantly cutting off the sound of the rain.

The assistant walked over to Everly. He pulled a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from his briefcase. He dropped the cash directly onto the wet pavement in front of her face. Then, he tossed a sleek, solid titanium business card that landed with a sharp clink against the asphalt, completely unaffected by the downpour.

"Take the cash and keep your mouth shut," the assistant said flatly. He turned and got into the passenger seat.

The Maybach's engine roared to life. The massive tires spun, splashing a wave of dirty street water over Everly's head before the car sped away into the night.

Everly lay alone in the pouring rain. She stared at the soggy hundred-dollar bills floating in the puddle.

Hot tears finally broke free, mixing with the cold rain on her face. She bit down on her lower lip so hard she tasted copper.

She didn't touch the money. Instead, her bleeding fingers reached out and snatched the heavy titanium business card. She crushed the cold metal into her palm, using the pain to fuel her muscles, and slowly, shakily, pushed herself up from the street.