Too Late CEO: The Runaway Wife Returns

In a sunlit jewelry studio in SoHo, Corrie sat on a tall stool. Mael had dropped the kids at the secure safehouse an hour ago and come straight here. The twins were safe with the housekeeper. For now. She wore a heavy canvas apron and protective plastic goggles. She held a small, high-speed rotary tool, carefully polishing the rough edges of a rare, deep blue sapphire. The brass bell above the studio door chimed. A courier in a uniform walked in, holding a thick, red-stamped envelope. Mael signed the digital pad and took the envelope. He ripped it open, his eyes scanning the document. A massive grin spread across his face. "Corrie, look at this," Mael said, walking over to her workbench. "It's a rush custom order. The deposit alone is enough to cover our rent for the next two years." Corrie turned off the rotary tool. She pushed her goggles up onto her forehead and rubbed her aching wrist. She took the contract from Mael's hand. Her eyes skipped down to the bottom of the page, looking for the client's signature. Holloway Group. Corrie's fingers went numb. The raw sapphire slipped from her hand. It hit the wooden workbench with a heavy thud and rolled onto the floor. She quickly read the item description. It was a custom diamond and sapphire necklace for the upcoming Holloway Charity Gala. A cold sweat broke out across the back of her neck. The danger was suddenly suffocating. Accepting this money meant interacting with Damon's world. The risk of exposure was too high. She shoved the contract back into Mael's chest. "Cancel it," Corrie ordered, her voice shaking. "Wire the deposit back immediately." Mael looked at her like she was crazy. "Corrie, did you read page two? The breach of contract penalty is three million dollars. But that's not even the real threat. If we breach, the Holloway legal team will scrutinize every detail of this studio. They'll dig into your name, your history, the kids... Everything you've built to stay hidden will collapse in a week." Corrie's knuckles went white. It wasn't the money. It was the exposure. Before Mael could say more, Corrie's cell phone sitting on the workbench began to vibrate violently. The caller ID flashed: Golden Leaf Academy. Corrie's heart leaped into her throat. She snatched the phone and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?" "Ms. Alvarez," Principal Eleanor's voice was shaky. "I'm calling to inform you that Mr. Damon Holloway was here at the school an hour ago. He saw Leo's photo on the wall of fame and demanded the children's files. I had no choice but to hand them over. He knows about the twins. I thought you should be warned immediately." Corrie's blood turned to ice. Damon had been at the school. After Mael had already picked up the kids. He hadn't found them, but he knew they existed. He knew she was alive. She ended the call. Her hands shook violently as she turned to Mael. "Damon was at the school," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "After you left. He saw Leo's picture. He has their files." Mael's eyes widened in horror. "Are the kids still safe?" "They're at the safehouse. But Damon has the entire Holloway security apparatus. It's only a matter of time before he finds them. Before he finds us." Corrie grabbed a duffel bag from under the desk. She started throwing her passport, the kids' birth certificates, and her design blueprints into the bag. She had to run. Again. She looked around the beautiful studio she had built from nothing. She felt a sharp pang of grief, but she pushed it down. She grabbed her duffel bag and walked to the back wall. She reached up to pull the heavy metal lever of the main electrical breaker, ready to shut the studio down forever. Her fingers brushed the cold metal handle. CRASH. The heavy, bulletproof glass front door of the studio was violently kicked open. The glass shattered into a million pieces, raining down on the hardwood floor. Four men in sharp black suits flooded into the room, instantly blocking the front door and the back exit. The men stepped aside. Damon Holloway walked through the empty doorframe. His expensive shoes crunched over the broken glass. He looked like a demon crawling out of hell, his eyes locked directly on her.