Chapter 4 4

The wind on the Palisades was merciless. It cut through Ines's oversized hoodie, chilling her to the bone.

Dorian leaned against the hood of the Escalade. He lit a cigarette, the flame flaring bright against the overcast sky. He took a drag, his eyes narrowed against the smoke.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope. He tossed it at her.

Ines caught it against her chest. It was heavy.

She opened the flap. Inside was a stack of legal documents and a single silver key.

She pulled out the papers. The header was bold and black: NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT & DEED OF GIFT.

She scanned the legalese. It was a standard hush-money contract, but the terms were astronomical. A deed to a condo on the Upper West Side. A cashier's check with the amount left blank.

And the condition: The Beneficiary agrees to cease all contact with the Grantor and vacate the borough of Manhattan within 48 hours.

Ines looked up at him.

"It's a severance package," Dorian said, smoke curling from his lips. "Last night was a mistake. I don't do repeats. And I don't do complications."

Ines felt a sharp pain in her chest, distinct from the fear. It was shame. Pure, distilled shame. She hadn't expected love. She hadn't even expected kindness. But being treated like a liability to be paid off stung more than she wanted to admit.

He thought she was just another gold digger. Just another problem to be solved with a checkbook.

Ines looked at the check. It could solve everything. It could pay for her grandfather's care for years. It could get her away from Silas.

But looking at Dorian's arrogant face, at the way he dismissed her humanity with a puff of smoke, something inside her snapped.

She gripped the papers with both hands.

Rip.

The sound was satisfyingly loud in the quiet air.

Dorian's eyes widened slightly. He stopped smoking.

Ines tore the contract again. And again. Until the deed and the check were confetti. She threw the pieces into the air. The wind caught them, carrying them over the cliff edge, down toward the river.

She dropped the silver key on the gravel. Clink.

She turned her back on him and started walking toward the exit of the overlook.

"You're refusing me?" Dorian's voice was dangerous now. Low and incredulous.

He pushed off the car and intercepted her, blocking her path. He loomed over her, a wall of expensive wool and fury.

"Do you have any idea what you just threw away?" he hissed. "You think your pride is worth that much?"

Ines pulled out her phone. Her fingers were numb from the cold, but she typed fast.

I don't sell my body. And I don't sell my memories.

She shoved the screen in his face.

Dorian read it. For a moment, he looked stunned. Then his expression hardened into ice.

"Fine," he said. "If you want to be noble."

He turned and walked back to the car. He got in and slammed the door.

Ines stood there, waiting for him to come back. To argue. To yell.

The engine roared to life.

The window rolled down. Dorian didn't look at her. He looked straight ahead.

"Walk home," he said.

The Escalade spun its tires, spraying gravel, and sped out of the lot.

Ines watched the taillights disappear around the bend.

She was alone. Miles from the city.

A drop of rain hit her cheek. Then another. The sky opened up, a freezing drizzle that soaked her instantly.

Ines looked down at her shoes. Cheap canvas sneakers. They wouldn't last a mile.

She started walking.