Chapter 3

The leather checkbook felt like a burning piece of coal against Evelyn's wet thighs.

Her entire body went rigid. A hot flush of deep humiliation crawled up her neck and burned the tips of her ears.

She grabbed the checkbook. She threw it as hard as she could right at Julian's chest.

Before the checkbook could even touch his chest, his large hand shot out and snatched it straight out of the air. His grip was so violently tight that the leather cover audibly creaked under his fingers. Julian did not even blink. A low, dark chuckle vibrated in his chest.

"You are sick, Julian!" Her voice shook with raw anger. "I am never agreeing to your disgusting terms!"

"Disgusting?" Julian lunged forward.

He planted both hands on the leather seat on either side of her hips. He caged her completely. His broad chest hovered inches from her face.

"You didn't think it was disgusting when you climbed into another man's bed for money three years ago, did you?"

The words sliced straight into Evelyn's heart like a serrated knife. The memory of that night, of the agonizing sacrifice she was forced to make to keep her family from total destruction, rushed back. Her throat closed up. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

She dug her fingernails so hard into her palms that the skin broke. She swallowed the painful truth down. She lifted her chin and stared back at him with dead eyes.

"Yes. I love money. And that is exactly why I have a fiancé now. He will pay for this."

The temperature in the car dropped to freezing.

The mocking amusement vanished from Julian's face. A violent, dark storm took over his eyes.

He grabbed her waist. His large hands clamped down on her ribs. Even through the wet silk, his palms felt like branding irons burning into her skin.

"Preston Vance?" Julian spat the name out like a curse. "You think that useless trust-fund brat has seven figures in liquid cash?"

Evelyn's stomach plummeted. She knew Preston's finances were a mess. But she would rather die than show weakness to Julian right now.

"That is between my future husband and me. It is none of your business, Mr. Hawthorne." She pushed both hands against his hard chest, trying to shove him away. He did not move a single inch.

Julian's eyes turned lethal. He lowered his head until his lips brushed against hers when he spoke.

"Husband? You really think I am going to let you walk down that aisle?"

He was so close she could taste the mint and tobacco on his breath. Her heart beat so fast it hurt her ribs.

The intercom on the console suddenly beeped. Gus's voice broke the heavy silence.

"Sir, the intersection is clear. Where to?"

The voice broke the spell. Evelyn shoved Julian's chest with all her strength. He was distracted for a split second, and she managed to push him back. She scrambled wildly for the door handle.

"Let me out! Right here at the subway station!" she yelled, her voice bordering on panic.

Julian fell back against his seat. He watched her scramble like a terrified prey. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

"Pull over," Julian ordered into the intercom. His voice was dead.

The Rolls Royce glided to a stop next to the subway entrance. The locks clicked open. Evelyn shoved the heavy door open and threw herself out into the freezing rain.

She ran so fast she did not realize her beige Burberry trench coat had slipped off her lap and fallen onto the floorboard.

Julian sat in the dark cabin. He did not try to stop her. He watched her thin, soaking wet figure disappear down the concrete stairs of the subway station.

Slowly, he looked down at the floor.

He reached down and picked up the wet trench coat. The fabric still held the warmth of her body. It smelled faintly of rain and her signature rose perfume.

Julian lifted the collar of the coat to his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His Adam's apple bobbed hard. A sick, obsessive look washed over his sharp features.

He opened his eyes and pressed the intercom button.

"Gus. Look into the Vance family's accounts. Cut off every single line of credit Preston Vance has."

Evelyn stood shivering in the packed subway car. Water dripped from her hair onto the dirty floor. People stared at her ruined clothes, but she just hugged her arms tighter across her chest.

Her brain was spinning. Julian's threats. The million-dollar debt. Preston's uselessness. It felt like a physical weight crushing her lungs.

An hour later, she unlocked the door to her cheap apartment on the edge of Brooklyn.

She walked into the dark, cramped living room. Before she could even reach for the light switch, her phone let out a loud, sharp ping from inside her purse.

Evelyn pulled it out. Her hands were still shaking from the cold. It was a mass email from her company's HR department. Evelyn knew the firm had been desperately seeking a buyout for months, but seeing the buyer's name made her blood run cold.

URGENT NOTICE: The binding acquisition agreement with the Hawthorne Group has been finalized tonight. The new acting CEO, Mr. Julian Hawthorne, will be conducting an on-site inspection tomorrow morning.