Chapter 4 4

The heavy oak door of the estate's private study slammed shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot.

Vance Hogan grabbed Aspen by the upper arm, his fingers digging brutally into her flesh. He shoved her into the center of the room. Corinne rushed in behind them, her hands shaking as she locked the deadbolt.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Vance roared, spit flying from his lips. His face was mottled red, the veins in his neck bulging against his collar. "Do you have any idea what you've just done, Aspen?!"

Aspen didn't stumble. She planted her feet on the Persian rug, her posture rigid. She looked down at her arm, then slowly up to Vance's furious eyes. Her expression was completely hollow.

"I know exactly what I've done," Aspen said, her voice flat and cold. "Right now, there are three hundred guests and thirty reporters outside that door. You have exactly five minutes to make a decision before the narrative is set in stone."

Corinne burst into tears, rushing forward to grab Aspen's other arm. "Aspen, how could you? We raised you! We gave you a home! Is this how you repay us?"

Aspen violently ripped her arm out of Corinne's grasp. The sudden movement made Corinne stumble backward.

"Repay you?" Aspen sneered, her upper lip curling in disgust. "By letting you toss me to a man you call a cripple so your precious Sloane can keep her trust fund? By letting you treat me like garbage for a decade?"

The words hit the Hogans like physical blows. The realization dawned on them-Aspen had known everything. She had always known.

Vance's phone began to vibrate violently in his breast pocket. He pulled it out with trembling hands. The screen was lit up with emergency alerts from his board of directors and the PR team.

He stared at the screen. The pre-market futures for Hogan Group were already plummeting. A twenty percent drop. Millions of dollars evaporating by the second.

The fight drained out of Vance. His shoulders slumped, and he leaned heavily against the mahogany desk, gasping for air as if he were drowning.

"Fine," Vance ground out through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse. "Fine. You get the fifteen million. And you marry the Fitzpatrick cripple. You take the fall."

Aspen's lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. "A wise business decision. Now, go out there and announce it."

Before Vance could move, a deafening crash shook the room.

The locked oak doors were violently kicked open, the wood splintering around the deadbolt.

Two massive men in tailored black suits and earpieces stepped into the study. Their faces were carved from granite, their eyes scanning the room for threats. Behind them walked Elias Mercer, Deron Fitzpatrick's chief of staff.

Elias ignored the shattered door. He ignored the terrified Hogan parents. He walked straight to Aspen and offered a crisp, shallow bow.

"Miss Hogan," Elias said, his voice smooth but carrying an undeniable weight. "Mr. Fitzpatrick sent me to collect you."

Vance found a shred of his false courage. He stepped forward, his fists clenched. "What is the meaning of this? This is a private family matter! Get out of my house!"

Elias didn't even turn his head. He kept his eyes on Aspen. "Mr. Fitzpatrick insists. To prevent any... accidents... your security is now under our exclusive jurisdiction. Effective immediately."

He placed a heavy emphasis on the word accidents. It was a blatant threat.

The remaining color drained from Vance's face. He realized instantly that the Fitzpatrick family had already moved their pieces. He had lost all leverage. He was no longer dealing with an adopted daughter; he was dealing with a titan.

Aspen nodded at Elias. "Thank you, Elias."

She turned to Corinne, who was cowering near the bookshelves. "Have my luggage brought to the front door in ten minutes. I assume you don't want me going upstairs to pack it myself."

The implication hung heavily in the air. If she went upstairs, she might find more "secrets" to expose. Corinne nodded frantically, her teeth chattering.

Elias gestured toward the door. The two bodyguards flanked Aspen, forming an impenetrable human shield.

Aspen walked out of the study. She moved through the devastated ballroom. The guests parted like the Red Sea, staring in stunned silence at the girl who had just orchestrated the destruction of a dynasty.

In the far corner, Sloane sat on the floor, her makeup running down her face in black streaks, glaring at Aspen with pure, unadulterated hatred. Julian was nowhere to be seen.

Aspen kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. She walked out the massive front doors of the estate. The cool night air hit her face, clearing the stench of the Hogan family from her lungs.

At the bottom of the stone steps, the black Maybach waited.

The rear door swung open. Deron sat in the shadows of the backseat. He extended one large, scarred hand toward her.

Aspen didn't hesitate. She reached out, her small hand disappearing into his grip. His skin was hot and calloused. He pulled her inside.

The heavy door slammed shut, sealing her in the quiet, leather-scented darkness, leaving the ruins of her past life behind.