Chapter 3 3

Corrine lay on the carpet. The sound of his steady footsteps echoed in the hallway, moving further away. If he left tonight, she would become the biggest joke in New York.

She bit her lip, ignoring the sharp pain in her bruised knees. She scrambled up from the floor, clutching the slipping towel.

She ran out of the suite. Her bare feet hit the thick wool runner in the hallway. She sprinted toward his retreating back.

Cassius had reached the private elevator. He raised his hand to press the down button. He heard the frantic footsteps and turned around, his brow deeply furrowed.

When Corrine was two steps away from him, she deliberately let her ankle twist. She let out a sharp gasp and threw her entire body weight forward, falling directly toward him.

Cassius's reflexes bypassed his brain. He stepped forward and shot his arms out, catching her falling body solidly against his chest.

Using the momentum of her fall, Corrine's hands desperately grabbed the lapels of his cashmere coat. She buried her face into his chest, inhaling the sharp scent of cedarwood.

As her fingers dug into the fabric, they hooked onto a thick metal chain hanging from his pocket.

With a desperate, twisting tug, a sharp metallic snap echoed in the hallway. The weakest link-a slightly worn connector ring halfway down the solid gold chain attached to his antique pocket watch-had completely given way under the sudden, violent torque.

Cassius's face turned instantly murderous. That watch was the symbol of the Mayer family's power. The muscles in his arms turned to steel.

He grabbed her wrists, trying to tear her off his body. His grip was so brutal it promised dark bruises by morning.

Corrine squeezed her eyes shut. She let her body go completely limp. She slumped against him like a dead weight, pretending to have passed out from the alcohol.

Cassius shook her roughly.

"Get up," he hissed.

The woman in his arms didn't move. Only her warm breath brushed against his neck.

At the far end of the hallway, the service elevator gears ground together. Someone was coming up. Cassius's eyes darted toward the sound.

He could not be seen wrestling with his adopted son's half-naked girlfriend in a hotel corridor. He cursed under his breath. He bent his knees and scooped Corrine up into his arms.

He carried her back toward the suite. His heavy footsteps pounded against the carpet, betraying his suppressed rage.

Cassius kicked the suite door open. He carried her through the entryway, past the living room, and straight into the master bedroom. He threw her onto the massive King-size bed.

Corrine bounced slightly on the mattress. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her eyes shut. She played dead.

Cassius stood over the bed. He stared down at her for several seconds. His breathing was heavy from anger.

He reached out and violently yanked the thick down comforter over her, burying her completely to hide the exposed skin.

Satisfied she wasn't going to jump up again, he turned to leave. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the broken half of the gold chain. His jaw clenched tight.

He walked out of the bedroom, crossed the living room, and slammed the front door shut. The heavy bang shook the walls.

The moment the door closed, Corrine's rigid muscles collapsed. She opened her eyes, gasping for air.

She slowly opened her right fist.

The other half of the broken gold chain lay in her palm. The jagged metal edges had pressed a red indent into her skin.

She stared at the gold links. A cold, desperate smile stretched across her face. This was her leverage.

Before she could get up, a chaotic noise erupted outside the suite.

Footsteps. Then, a man's angry voice.

"Corrine! Open the door!"

It was Arron. Her ex-boyfriend.

A woman's voice followed, high-pitched and fake. "Arron, please calm down..." It was Elma Horn.

Arron began pounding his fists against the heavy wood. "Corrine! I know you're in there!"

Corrine's fingers closed tightly around the gold chain. The panic in her eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling, absolute ice. The real storm was just beginning.