Left To Burn: The Heiress's Ruthless Comeback

Atticus's broad chest was inches from Avah's shoulder. The intense, predatory heat radiating from his body made her hold her breath.

He didn't touch Avah. Instead, his large hand accurately grasped the back of Leo's collar.

"I apologize for my son's intrusion," Atticus said. His voice was a low, magnetic rumble that vibrated in the small space between them.

He stood up straight, holding the boy. "I am a representative of the hotel where the fire occurred. I am here to handle the aftermath for the injured guests."

The moment Avah heard the word "hotel," the warmth in her eyes vanished. Her expression turned to frost. Any sympathy she felt for the man evaporated.

"I don't need your compensation," Avah said coldly, her voice flat. "I just want you both to leave my room. Now."

Atticus raised a dark eyebrow. He seemed slightly surprised by the sharp thorns she suddenly aimed at him.

Leo, dangling from his father's grip, kicked his little legs in the air. "No! Don't leave Mommy!" he cried out in protest.

Desperate to end this chaotic encounter, Avah threw off the thin hospital blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed to show them out herself.

The moment her bare foot hit the floor, a blinding, agonizing pain shot up from her sprained ankle.

Avah lost her balance instantly. She pitched forward, a sharp gasp escaping her throat as the floor rushed up to meet her.

Atticus reacted with terrifying speed. With Leo tucked under one arm, his free hand shot out and clamped firmly around Avah's slender waist. The sudden exertion caused a violent, barely perceptible flinch in his broad shoulders. Beneath the crisp fabric of his left sleeve, the raw, blistering tissue of a severe, fresh burn pulled taut, sending a blinding spike of agony up his arm. But his grip remained absolute.

Even through the thin cotton of her hospital gown, Avah could feel the scorching heat of his large palm burning against her skin.

She looked up in panic. Her lips nearly brushed against his sharp jawline. Their breaths tangled together in the tight space.

Atticus's blue eyes darkened like a stormy sea. Without a word, he tightened his grip and effortlessly lifted her entire body off the floor.

The sudden weightlessness made Avah's stomach drop. Her hands flew up, instinctively grabbing the lapels of his dark suit jacket to steady herself.

Right at that highly intimate moment, the door to the hospital room was shoved open violently from the outside. Taking advantage of a brief shift change at the security desk, and aggressively flashing his VIP Hopkins family credentials to intimidate the floor nurses, Kain stood in the doorway. He had returned to do his superficial duty of checking on his fiancée after settling Jaclyn.

Kain's eyes immediately locked onto the sight of Atticus holding Avah tightly against his chest.

His handsome face twisted into an ugly mask of pure jealousy and rage. His skin turned a mottled red.

Kain stormed into the room, pointing a shaking finger directly at Avah's face. His voice dripped with acid.

"Did you really just get dumped and immediately spread your legs for some bottom-tier hotel employee?" Kain spat.

At the words "bottom-tier employee," Atticus's sharp jawline instantly tightened. A chilling, dangerous glint flashed deep within his eyes, completely imperceptible to the hysterical man before him, but his surface expression remained an impenetrable, stoic mask.

Atticus didn't put Avah down. Instead, he pulled her closer against his chest, adopting a highly possessive, protective stance as he faced Kain.

Avah was thoroughly disgusted by Kain's shamelessness. She struggled against Atticus's chest. "Put me down," she demanded through gritted teeth.

Atticus gently lowered her onto the edge of the mattress and carefully pulled the blanket over her legs.

Kain watched this tender exchange, his blood boiling. He lunged forward, raising his hands to shove Atticus out of the way.

Atticus merely shifted his weight. His right hand shot out, grabbing Kain's wrist, deliberately keeping his injured left arm shielded. Ignoring the fierce throb radiating from beneath his sleeve, he moved with a brutal, fluid motion, and twisted it hard.

A loud crack echoed. Kain let out a pathetic scream of agony. He stumbled backward, his legs tangling, and crashed hard into the leather visitor's sofa.

Atticus stood over him, looking down with eyes as cold as a glacier. "Watch your boundaries," he warned, his voice a lethal whisper.