Chapter 2

The sharp, sterile stench of bleach burned Avah's nostrils, dragging her consciousness back from the dark void.

She forced her heavy eyelids open. The glaring white ceiling of a VIP hospital room assaulted her vision.

She tried to shift her weight, but a sharp, stabbing pain shot up from her heavily bandaged ankle. A muffled groan escaped her dry lips.

The hospital room door swung open. Her father, Preston, and her stepmother, Eleanor, walked in. Their faces were carved from stone, devoid of any warmth or concern.

Preston didn't ask how she was feeling. He didn't look at her bandages. He marched straight to the foot of the bed and slapped a thick stack of documents onto the rolling tray table.

The bold black letters on the cover page glared at her: Mutual Dissolution of Engagement and Transfer of Trust Fund Shares Agreement.

Eleanor crossed her arms over her designer blouse. Her voice dripped with venom. "You made an absolute scene at the party, Avah. You lacked any sense of decency."

"Kain is exhausted," Eleanor continued, her eyes narrowing. "The family simply cannot afford to lose face again because of your childish tantrums."

Preston tapped the documents with a manicured finger. "Sign it immediately. You are stepping down. You will give the fiancée position to Jaclyn. She knows how to please the Hopkins family."

Avah stared at the two people who were supposed to be her family. A low, raspy chuckle vibrated in her raw throat.

The image of Kain abandoning her in the fire flashed behind her eyes. Her gaze turned to absolute ice.

Avah looked dead into Preston's eyes. She didn't even reach for the Montblanc pen he was holding out to her.

Preston's face flushed dark red. He slammed his fist onto the table, the loud crack echoing in the sterile room.

He leaned in, lowering his voice to a vicious whisper. "Sign it, or I will make sure the press remembers your little 'illegitimate child' scandal from three years ago."

The words hit Avah like a physical blow to the stomach. Her heart violently contracted. That was the one wound that had never stopped bleeding.

Eleanor seized the opportunity to twist the knife. She sneered, "A woman with a filthy stain like that doesn't deserve to marry into the Hopkins family anyway."

The salt burned in her open wounds. But this time, Avah didn't lower her head. She didn't let the tears fall like she used to.

She reached over and violently ripped the IV needle out of the back of her hand. Blood instantly welled up, dripping down and staining the pristine white hospital sheets.

Ignoring the blood dripping from her knuckles, Avah grabbed the thick transfer agreement from the table.

While Preston and Eleanor watched in stunned silence, Avah gripped the edges of the paper and ripped the entire stack in half.

The loud, tearing sound of the thick paper was deafening in the quiet room.

Avah threw the torn pieces directly at Preston's custom-tailored suit jacket. They fluttered to the floor like dead leaves.

"Don't you ever," Avah said, her voice hoarse but vibrating with lethal intensity, "think you can take another dime from me."

Preston's face contorted in rage. He raised his hand high, ready to slap his disobedient daughter across the face.

Avah didn't flinch. She tilted her chin up. The pure, murderous intent in her eyes forced Preston to freeze his hand mid-air.

She reached over and slammed her palm onto the emergency call button attached to the bed rail. "Security. I need these two intruders removed from my room immediately."

The chaotic sound of nurses running down the hallway reached them. Eleanor, desperate to maintain her high-society image, grabbed Preston's arm and pulled him back.

Preston pointed a shaking finger at her before turning to the door. "You will pay for your stupidity today, Avah."

The door slammed shut, rattling the frame. Avah sat alone on the bed. Her face was completely blank as she pressed a cotton ball hard against the bleeding puncture wound on her hand.

She lifted her head and looked out the window at the glittering Manhattan skyline. A dark, consuming fire of revenge ignited in her chest.