Chapter 2

The black Maybach tore through the congested streets of Manhattan.

The driver kept his eyes glued to the road, too terrified by the suffocating pressure radiating from the backseat to even breathe loudly.

Godfrey leaned his head against the leather headrest and squeezed his eyes shut. The freezing air of the Manhattan Family Court from five years ago seemed to fill the car, chilling his blood.

He heard the judge's gavel slam down. He saw Alyse standing at the defendant's table, her spine perfectly straight. There was no guilt in her eyes. Not a single ounce of regret.

Her lawyer had projected the photos onto the screen-Alyse walking into a hotel with an unidentified man.

Godfrey remembered the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He remembered staring at her with bloodshot eyes, demanding to know why.

Alyse had looked at him with a calmness that made him want to rip the room apart. She told him she was sick of the fake, suffocating life of a billionaire's wife.

She had voluntarily given up hundreds of millions of dollars in alimony from the Hammond family, asking only for an immediate termination of the marriage. Her absolute ruthlessness had felt like a physical slap across his face.

The neon lights of the city flashed across Godfrey's rigid jawline, dragging him out of the nightmare and back into the speeding car.

His thumb unconsciously rubbed against his left cufflink. It was a habit he couldn't break. The silver cufflink was the last birthday gift Alyse had ever given him. He had never taken them off.

His phone vibrated again. It was Zane.

"She just paid the bill," Zane said, his words rushing out. "She's leaving."

Godfrey leaned forward. "Run the yellow," he ordered the driver.

The Maybach's engine roared, the sound mirroring the violent storm tearing through Godfrey's chest.

"Wait," Zane added, his voice dropping lower as he peered around the frosted glass. "I just saw her driver loading a garment bag into her SUV. It had the official crest of the Lee family's charity gala printed right on the front. And I overheard her tell the bodyguard to head straight to the Waldorf Astoria."

Godfrey's eyebrows snapped together.

The Waldorf Astoria was entirely booked tonight by the Lee family. It was the night of the matriarch Beatrice's annual charity gala.

His stomach tightened. Alyse showing up in New York tonight, at that specific hotel, was not a coincidence.

The ruthless business instincts that made him a billionaire snapped awake.

"Keep eyes on her," Godfrey commanded. He tapped the glass partition. "Change route. Head straight to the Waldorf."

He hung up the phone and stared down at the screen. He opened the photo Zane had sent. He zoomed in on the little blonde girl's face.

He stared at the shape of her nose, the curve of her eyes, desperately searching for traces of the man named Guthrie. The venom of jealousy chewed away at his insides, burning a hole in his stomach.

A few blocks away, Alyse held Nora's hand as they walked out of the restaurant. The freezing wind whipped the hem of her coat. She wrapped Nora tightly in her arms.

A sleek, unmarked black SUV pulled up to the curb. The driver, a heavily built bodyguard, stepped out and opened the rear door.

Alyse lifted Nora into the car seat. Before she climbed in, she threw a glance over her shoulder toward the booth where Zane had been hiding. A faint look of mockery flashed in her eyes.

She slid into the car, and it merged seamlessly into the traffic.

Alyse pulled a heavily encrypted phone from her bag. Before opening the schematics, she quickly tapped out a message to Guthrie, attaching a live GPS tracking link. 'Godfrey's hound spotted me. Might get messy later. Keep an eye on my location and stay on standby,' she typed, hitting send before switching apps. The screen illuminated her face, displaying the detailed security schematics of the Lee family's gala.

Her index finger tapped rhythmically against the edge of the phone. She typed a rapid string of code, bypassing the firewall and temporarily blinding the security cameras in a specific sector of the hotel's underground garage.

Nora hugged her stuffed rabbit, looking around the dark car.

"Mommy, are we going to a big party?"

Alyse looked at her daughter's innocent eyes through the rearview mirror. Her voice was incredibly soft.

"No, sweetie. We aren't going to a party. We're going on a hunt."

At a busy intersection, the black Maybach and the SUV passed each other.

In that split second, through the tinted glass, Godfrey caught the faint outline of a familiar profile.

He whipped his head around, his heart slamming violently against his ribs. But a massive city bus pulled forward, completely blocking his line of sight.

His lungs burned. He pounded his fist against the door panel.

"Drive faster!" Godfrey barked.

He had to intercept her before she walked into that ballroom. He had to grab her by the shoulders and demand the truth.

The grand architecture of the Waldorf Astoria finally loomed in the night sky. The entrance was swarming with paparazzi and New York's elite.

The driver expertly navigated the Maybach into the VIP lane, bypassing the chaos and stopping smoothly at the side entrance.

Godfrey shoved the door open. The freezing wind hit his face, cooling the feverish heat in his brain, but the dark obsession in his eyes only grew stronger.

He adjusted his suit jacket. His jaw was locked tight as he walked toward the heavy, ornate doors. He was about to rip open a five-year-old scandal.