Chapter 6

The rain was relentless. It fell in icy, diagonal sheets across the dark streets of Long Island.

Elodie walked down the empty sidewalk. Her high heels clicked unevenly against the wet pavement. The wind whipped her soaked hair across her face. The expensive silk dress clung to her skin, the dark red wine stain washed into a muddy, bruised purple by the rain. She was freezing. Her teeth chattered violently.

She stopped under a flickering streetlamp. Her fingers were numb as she pulled her phone from her Birkin bag. The screen was cracked, but it still worked.

She opened the Uber app. She requested a ride back to her penthouse in Manhattan.

A red warning box popped up on the screen. Payment Method Declined.

Elodie frowned. She deleted the black card and manually typed in the numbers of her American Express Platinum card.

She hit submit.

Transaction Denied. Please contact your banking institution.

A hollow laugh escaped her lips. Leland was fast. He hadn't just kicked her out; he had severed her financial arteries within minutes. He wanted her stranded in the rain. He wanted her to crawl back and beg.

A passing taxi hit a pothole. A wave of dirty street water splashed over Elodie's shins, ruining her suede heels.

She didn't flinch. She opened her contacts and dialed a number.

Thirty minutes later, the roar of an engine cut through the storm. A bright pink Porsche 911 screeched to a halt beside the curb.

The passenger door popped open.

Elodie climbed inside. The leather interior was warm and smelled of expensive vanilla perfume.

Tess Amory, Elodie's best friend since boarding school, sat behind the wheel. Tess pulled down her oversized Chanel sunglasses, despite it being pitch black outside. Her jaw dropped.

She stared at Elodie's soaked, stained dress. Then, her eyes locked onto the angry, red handprint swelling on Elodie's left cheek.

"Who hit you?" Tess asked. Her voice was deadly serious.

Elodie leaned her head back against the headrest. She closed her eyes. "My father."

As Tess merged the Porsche onto the highway toward Manhattan, Elodie told her everything. She spoke in a flat, detached voice. She told her about the catering uniform, the sapphire necklace, the smirk, and the slap.

Tess slammed her hand against the steering wheel. She unleashed a string of vicious curses aimed at Leland and Dani.

"You're moving into my guest room," Tess declared as the Manhattan skyline came into view. "I don't care what my parents say. You're staying with me."

Elodie opened her eyes. She shook her head. "No. Leland will threaten your father's supply chain if you harbor me. I won't do that to you."

Elodie unlatched her Birkin bag. Her hands were still shaking from the cold, but her movements were deliberate. She reached into the hidden zippered compartment at the back of the bag.

She pulled out a thick, folded document. The paper was slightly yellowed at the edges.

"What is that?" Tess asked, glancing over.

"When I turned eighteen, Grandmother Eleonora set up an independent trust for me," Elodie said softly. She traced the embossed seal on the paper. "Leland doesn't know about it. He has no legal access to it. It has cash, and the deeds to three unlisted properties."

Tess's eyes widened. A wicked grin spread across her face. "Eleonora was a genius. So, where are we going? The townhouse in Chelsea? The villa in the Hamptons?"

Elodie stared out the rain-streaked window. The neon lights of the city blurred together. Suddenly, an image flashed in her mind. Fletcher's cold, angry eyes from that morning. Dani's triumphant smirk in the dining room.

Dani wanted her life. Dani wanted her father. Dani wanted her boyfriend.

Elodie's fingers crushed the edge of the trust document. A fierce, burning heat ignited in her chest, chasing away the cold.

"Take me to SoHo," Elodie commanded. "To the industrial lofts on Mercer Street."

Tess slammed on the brakes, nearly causing a pileup. She turned to Elodie, horrified. "Are you insane? You're going to that broke loser's apartment? After he treated you like garbage this morning?"

"Dani wants to take everything from me," Elodie said. Her voice was pure steel. "She is not taking him."

Ten minutes later, the Porsche idled outside a grim, graffiti-covered brick building in SoHo. Elodie pushed the door open. She refused Tess's offer to walk her up.

She stepped into the dimly lit, foul-smelling elevator, filled with various odors, and watched the numbers on the elevator door rise little by little until she arrived.

She reached the heavy iron door with the peeling number '4B'.

She took a deep breath. Her ribs ached. She pressed the buzzer.

Heavy footsteps approached from the inside. The deadbolt clicked. The door swung open.

Fletcher stood in the doorway. He was wearing low-hanging gray sweatpants. His chest was bare, his skin damp with fresh water droplets from a shower. His dark hair was wet and messy.

He looked down. His eyes locked onto Elodie.

He saw the soaked, ruined dress. He saw her shivering frame. And then, his eyes snapped to the violent, purple-red bruise blooming across her cheek.

Fletcher's pupils dilated. A terrifying, violent darkness exploded in his eyes. His hands twitched at his sides, his knuckles instantly turning white. For a fraction of a second, he looked ready to murder someone.

But then, his jaw locked. He forcefully shoved the emotion down, burying it behind a wall of ice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" his voice was a low, gravelly rasp.

Elodie didn't answer. She ducked under his arm and pushed her way into the apartment. She walked straight to the worn leather sofa and dropped her Birkin bag onto the cushions.

She turned around. She lifted her chin, staring right into his cold eyes.

"I'm broke," Elodie said. Her voice didn't tremble. "My father cut me off. You're taking me in."