Chapter 7

The next morning, the bright Manhattan sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of The Plaza Hotel's iconic dining room. Alycia had brought Julian here for a special welcome-home brunch, hoping to erase the stress of the previous day's travel.

They were walking through the opulent lobby, Julian holding tightly to her hand, when the crowd in front of them parted aggressively.

Four men in black suits were physically shoving hotel guests out of the way to clear a path.

Alycia looked up. Her footsteps faltered.

Walking right down the center of the cleared path was Rolf Gillespie. He looked older, his face harder, but the arrogant sneer was exactly the same. Clinging to his arm was Seraphina, draped in a ridiculous, floor-length mink coat despite the mild weather.

The memory of the freezing rain and the torn papers hit Alycia so hard she felt physically sick. Her chest tightened.

Rolf stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at Alycia. His eyes flicked over her expensive Tom Ford suit and the Birkin bag. A flash of genuine shock crossed his face. He expected her to be dead, or at least begging on the streets.

Seraphina recovered faster. Her lips twisted into a toxic, plastic smile. She let go of Rolf's arm and strutted forward, her hips swaying.

She pitched her voice loudly, making sure the people around them stopped to listen.

"Well, well," Seraphina practically yelled. "If it isn't the family disgrace. I see you brought your little bastard with you. Did you ever figure out who the father was, or were there too many men to count?"

Julian shrank back. He grabbed Alycia's leg, hiding his face against her thigh. He could feel the pure evil radiating from the woman.

Rolf looked down his nose at Alycia. He let out a loud grunt of disgust. "You have no shame. Parading that mistake around in public."

Alycia didn't shrink. She didn't cry. Her spine snapped straight. She pushed Julian gently behind her calves, shielding him completely.

She let out a short, cold laugh.

"You want to talk about shame, Rolf?" Alycia's voice was ice. It cut through the ambient noise of the hotel lobby. "Let's talk about the shell company Seraphina set up in Delaware to siphon funds from the family trust right before you kicked me out."

Seraphina's plastic smile shattered. Her eyes widened in absolute panic. The color drained from her heavily rouged cheeks.

Rolf's face turned violently red. The veins in his neck bulged. He stepped forward, raising his voice to a roar to cover his wife's guilt. "Shut your mouth! You are a lying whore!"

People were stopping now. Cell phones were coming out. Cameras started recording.

Alycia took a step forward. She closed the distance between herself and her father. She looked him dead in the eye.

"I am a top-tier creative director and public figure in Manhattan," Alycia said, her voice low and deadly. "If you or your thief of a wife ever speak my name again, I will subpoena your financial records and drag you through the New York Supreme Court. I will take everything you have."

Rolf's mind snapped. He was a man who ruled by fear. He could not handle being threatened by the daughter he threw away. He could not handle the public humiliation.

Seraphina grabbed his arm, whispering frantically. "She's trying to steal our money, Rolf! Stop her!"

Alycia looked at them with pure disgust. "Keep your dirty money. You make me sick."

She turned her back on him, reaching down to grab Julian's hand.

The sight of her turning her back on him broke the last thread of Rolf's sanity.