Chapter 3

Erna pushed through the side doors at the end of the carpeted hallway and stepped out onto the semi-open terrace.

The late autumn wind of New York hit her face, carrying a mist of freezing rain. The physical shock of the cold helped cool the burning anger in her head.

Rapid footsteps echoed behind her.

"Erna! Wait!"

Sterling pushed the heavy glass door open, panting as he jogged onto the terrace.

Erna stopped. She turned around and stared at the man who used to be her closest friend at Columbia University.

Sterling reached into the inner pocket of his tailored suit and pulled out a neatly folded check. He stepped forward and tried to press it into her hand.

"Take this," Sterling whispered, glancing nervously back at the door. "It's enough for a decent apartment in Brooklyn. Just drop the police report, Erna. Please."

Erna looked down at the piece of paper. A heavy wave of disgust rolled through her stomach.

She took a step back, refusing to touch it. "You only play the good guy when no one is watching, Sterling."

Sterling's face flushed red, then went pale. "You know how it is! I can't go against the Cherry family in public. I'd be ruined in Manhattan."

"Keep your money," Erna said, her voice dripping with contempt. "I don't need your cowardly pity."

Before Sterling could respond, the terrace door creaked open again.

Brynlee stepped out into the freezing rain. She was wearing a thin silk evening gown, her bare shoulders shivering violently in the wind.

Her eyes were red-rimmed. She hurried over to Erna and reached out to grab the sleeve of Erna's trench coat.

Erna yanked her arm back violently, as if Brynlee's touch was toxic. "Back off."

Brynlee's face crumpled into a mask of pure devastation. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes.

"Please, Erna," Brynlee sobbed, her voice cracking perfectly. "Don't bring the NYPD into this. The scandal will tank Apollo's company stock. You can't do this to him."

Erna let out a dry, humorless laugh. "You don't give a damn about Apollo's stock. You're just terrified the cops will find out what you really did, and your perfect socialite image will burn to the ground."

A flash of genuine panic darted through Brynlee's eyes, but it was gone in a millisecond, buried under a fresh wave of tears.

Brynlee took a sudden step forward. Her high heel scraped loudly against the wet, slippery tiles of the terrace.

Using the momentum, Brynlee threw her upper body backward in a dramatic, exaggerated arc. She crashed hard into a large ceramic planter resting on the edge of the terrace.

Crash.

The thick ceramic shattered. Wet dirt and sharp shards exploded across the floor. Brynlee let out a blood-curdling scream and collapsed into the muddy puddle.

Erna stood perfectly still, watching the pathetic performance. She didn't even have the energy to roll her eyes.

Heavy, frantic footsteps thundered from the hallway. Apollo burst onto the terrace, his eyes wild.

He instantly saw Brynlee sitting in the mud, blood trickling down her pale arm from a scrape caused by the broken ceramic.

Apollo's face contorted in rage. He sprinted over and dropped to his knees, pulling Brynlee carefully into his chest.

"It wasn't her fault," Brynlee choked out, burying her face in his shirt. "I just... I lost my balance."

The classic manipulation worked perfectly. Apollo's head snapped up. His eyes locked onto Erna, burning with a murderous hatred.

"You're not just a liar," Apollo roared, his voice vibrating with fury. "You're a violent psychopath!"

Sterling stood frozen to the side, his head ducked down, too terrified of Apollo's wrath to speak a single word in Erna's defense.

Erna looked at the three of them. Her three-year marriage was a grotesque joke.

She kept her spine straight. She didn't take a single step back. She met Apollo's furious glare and let a cold, mocking smile spread across her lips.