Pampered By The Possessive Wall Street Titan

Ansley pulled Elon back. They stepped into the deep shadow beside the Porsche. The approaching headlights swept past them.

A dark gray Range Rover slowed down. It parked directly behind the Maybach.

The driver's side window rolled down. Jaydin leaned his head out. He squinted into the rain, looking for a wrecked car at the bottom of the cliff.

Ansley lowered her voice. "Heidi sent him."

Elon's eyes darkened. A suffocating, murderous aura radiated from him. He shifted his weight, ready to step out. "Then let me end this now." His voice was not a question. It was a death sentence. One word from her, and Jaydin would not leave this highway alive.

Ansley pressed her hand flat against his chest. She shook her head. "I have a better plan."

"He's not just a messenger," she said, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "He's the one who held the wire while Heidi measured the height. He laughed while he did it. I want him to walk into his own trap."

She ran her fingers through her hair, tangling it. She rubbed wet mud onto the hem of her silk dress. She let her shoulders slump.

She took a deep breath. She stumbled out of the shadows and walked toward the Range Rover. "Help!" she cried out.

Jaydin saw her. His eyes widened in absolute shock. He froze for a split second. She was supposed to be dead. He had driven here expecting to find a corpse, not a survivor. His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment, scrambling to recalibrate.

He quickly masked his face with fake concern. He pushed the door open, grabbed an umbrella, and hurried toward her.

"Ansley! What happened? Why are you stopped here?" He reached out to grab her arm.

Ansley subtly stepped back. She pointed toward the dark curve ahead. Her hand trembled perfectly.

"My contact lens fell out," she stammered. "I can't see the road. Can you go check the front of the car for me? I think I hit something."

Jaydin's eyes gleamed. He thought she hadn't seen the wire yet. He planned to walk her right into it. The same wire he had helped string. The same wire he had laughed about. And now he was going to watch her walk into it.

He nodded eagerly. He walked past her, heading straight for the front of the Porsche. He didn't look down. He was too busy grinning at the thought of her walking into the trap he had helped set.

He took another step. His chest slammed into the taut steel wire—the same wire, still strung at neck height.

He screamed. The impact caught him square across the sternum. His body whipped backward, his feet flying out from under him. He crashed onto the flooded asphalt, the back of his skull cracking against the wet ground.

The wire had been rigged to kill a driver at ninety miles an hour. Against a walking man, it didn't decapitate—it clotheslined him with brutal, bone-jarring force. A dark, angry welt bloomed instantly across his upper chest, the steel's edge tearing through his shirt as if the fabric were tissue paper.

Ansley stood five feet away. She didn't move. She didn't flinch. She watched him writhe on the wet asphalt with the cold, detached curiosity of someone observing an insect under a microscope. The fragile act vanished. A mocking smirk touched her lips.

Jaydin clutched his bleeding chest. He groaned and looked up. He saw the absolute ice in Ansley's eyes.

"You—" he gasped, his voice ragged with pain and dawning terror. "You knew. You knew the wire was there."

Ansley tilted her head. "You helped Heidi string a murder weapon across a highway. You laughed while you did it. You drove here tonight to photograph my body." She took a single step closer, her bare feet silent on the wet pavement. "Did you think I'd just let you walk away?"

"Did you think I'd beg?" she continued, her voice soft and deadly. "Did you think I'd cry while you stood over my corpse and called Heidi to tell her it was done?"

Elon stepped out of the shadows. His heavy footsteps splashed in the water. He looked down at Jaydin like he was looking at a corpse. "You touched what belongs to me," he said. His voice was almost conversational, which made it infinitely more terrifying. "Do you know what happens to men who touch what belongs to me?"

Jaydin stared at the Wall Street titan. The blood drained from his face. He started shaking uncontrollably. His phone—still clutched in his trembling hand—buzzed. Heidi's name flashed on the screen. She was calling to confirm the kill.

Elon pulled out his phone. He dialed a number. "Lock down this highway. Now. And send a team to secure the man bleeding by the Porsche. I want him alive for questioning. And trace the incoming call on his phone. I want every conversation he's had with Heidi Sinclair in the last forty-eight hours. "

Ansley turned around. She walked to the Porsche, reached behind the rearview mirror, and pulled out the dashcam memory card—the one that had captured every detail of Heidi and Jaydin stringing the wire.

She clenched the tiny plastic square in her fist. The first piece of evidence. "You're going to help me take her down," she said, not even looking back at Jaydin. "Every detail. Every meeting. Every text. And when I'm done with Heidi, maybe—just maybe—the police won't find that dashcam footage. Or maybe they will. It depends entirely on how useful you are."

Jaydin tried to push himself up. His arms gave out. He collapsed back onto the wet asphalt, his blood mixing with the rain. He was trapped. And he knew it.

A low groan sounded behind her. Elon swayed.

Ansley spun around. Elon was clutching his chest. His face was ashen.

His knees buckled. He pitched forward. Ansley lunged and caught his massive frame.

Her hands hit his chest. He was covered in cold sweat. The old injury.

"Elon!" she shouted. "Stay awake!"