Chapter 4

The heavy tires of Annabella's car crunched over the gravel driveway of the Kowalski estate in Long Island. She threw the car into park and stepped out into the crisp afternoon air.

The head butler stood expressionless at the top of the stone steps. His gaze rested on her wrinkled clothes for a brief second, but his eyes remained entirely blank. He offered a shallow, flawless bow and said in a tone of impeccable, icy politeness, "Madam is expecting you in the sunroom." Without another word, he turned and led her through the massive house toward the back gardens.

Marge Kowalski sat in the glass-enclosed sunroom. She held a delicate porcelain cup of Darjeeling tea. She didn't look up when Annabella walked in. She simply waved her hand, dismissing the butler.

Annabella didn't sit down. She locked her knees, standing tall and rigid on the other side of the glass table. She stared at the woman she had spent five years trying to impress.

Marge placed her teacup on the saucer with a soft clink. She smoothed an invisible wrinkle on her Chanel skirt. "Your behavior at the altar today was entirely unacceptable. You lacked grace."

"Grace?" Annabella repeated, her voice dangerously low.

"The Kowalski family reputation comes first," Marge said, her tone dripping with condescension. "Ethan leaving to save a dying friend shows loyalty. You storming off made us look like a circus."

Annabella let out a harsh bark of laughter. "He abandoned his bride in front of five hundred people, and you think I made you look like a circus?"

Marge's eyes narrowed. She reached into her Hermès Birkin bag and pulled out a leather-bound checkbook. She grabbed a gold pen and quickly wrote out a string of numbers.

She ripped the check from the book and slid it across the glass table. "Take this. It's a seven-figure compensation. You will sign a joint statement with our PR team stating the wedding was postponed due to mutual agreement."

Annabella looked down at the paper. The zeros blurred together. A wave of pure, unadulterated disgust washed over her.

She reached out. She pinched the edge of the check between her index and middle finger. She lifted it up, holding it right in front of Marge's face.

With one sharp motion, Annabella tore the check in half. The sound of the ripping paper echoed loudly in the quiet sunroom.

Marge's eyes widened in shock. She slammed her hands on the table and stood up. "You ungrateful little bitch! Do you know who you are dealing with?"

Annabella dropped the torn pieces of paper onto the table. "The engagement is off, it's all over. I resigned from the company an hour ago."

Marge's face turned purple.

"Don't ever try to buy my dignity again," Annabella said, her voice like ice. "I don't owe your family a damn thing."

Before Marge could scream another insult, Annabella turned around. She walked out of the sunroom, her footsteps echoing sharply against the tile floor.

She walked out the front doors, took a deep breath of the cold Long Island air, and felt her lungs expand. She got into her car, slammed her foot on the gas, and sped away from the estate.

An hour later, she stood outside Room 401 at Mount Sinai Hospital again. This time, she didn't hesitate.

She pushed the heavy wooden door open. It slammed against the wall with a loud bang.

Inside, Ethan and Donie were eating lunch from silver trays. Ethan froze, his silver fork hovering halfway to his mouth. When he saw Annabella, his eyebrows crashed together.

He dropped the fork onto the tray. "What the hell are you doing here? Haven't you caused enough drama for one day?"

Donie immediately shrank back against the pillows. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, her eyes widening in fake terror. Her eyes instantly filled with tears.

Annabella ignored Donie completely. She walked straight to the side of the hospital bed. She looked down at Ethan.

She reached over to her left hand. She grabbed the three-carat Tiffany diamond ring on her finger and pulled it off.

She slammed the ring down onto the metal tray table. The heavy diamond hit the metal with a sharp, violent crack that made both Ethan and Donie flinch.

Ethan stared at the ring. His pupils dilated. The color drained from his face for the second time that day.

Annabella looked him dead in the eye. "The wedding is canceled. Do not ever contact me again."

Ethan shot up from the chair. He stepped into her space, using his height to try and intimidate her. He clenched his fists at his sides, his chest heaving with indignant breaths. "What do you mean by that?"

Annabella didn't take a single step back. She tilted her chin up. She stared right back into his eyes, showing nothing but cold disgust.