Chapter 6

The shattered phone lay dead on the boardroom table. Carter stared at it, his voice deadly quiet as he ordered everyone out.

The executives scrambled out of their leather chairs, fleeing the room as fast as their legs could carry them.

Carter turned to his executive assistant, Ricky, and ordered him to immediately pull Evelyn's credit card records and mobilize the Finley Group's security detail to sweep every high-end bar's surveillance network within a five-mile radius of her last known hotel.

Ten minutes later, three black SUVs and a sleek Maybach violently boxed in the entrance of the underground speakeasy.

The heavy oak doors were shoved open by massive bodyguards. The loud music was instantly cut off by the bartender.

Carter walked through the terrified crowd, his suit jacket unbuttoned, radiating a dark, suffocating violence as he headed straight for the corner booth.

Amiya jumped to her feet, stepping firmly in front of the table to block Carter from reaching the heavily intoxicated Evelyn.

Carter didn't even look at Amiya. He gave a sharp nod, and two bodyguards immediately grabbed Amiya by the arms, dragging her out of the way.

He leaned over the table, his large hand wrapping around Evelyn's upper arm, yanking her up from the leather sofa.

Evelyn stumbled, her legs weak from the alcohol, and crashed hard against Carter's solid chest.

She pushed against his shoulders, screaming at him to let her go and not to touch her.

Carter didn't say a single word. He bent down, threw her over his broad shoulder, and marched toward the exit.

A few patrons pulled out their phones to record, but the bodyguards immediately blinded their cameras with high-powered tactical flashlights.

Carter reached the Maybach, yanked the heavy door open, and threw Evelyn onto the wide leather backseat.

He climbed in right behind her. The door slammed shut, and the central locks engaged with a heavy, final click.

The driver slammed on the gas. The convoy sped out of Manhattan, heading straight for the Finley estate in Long Island.

Inside the dark cabin, Evelyn kicked out wildly, the heels of her shoes slamming repeatedly into the back of the front seats.

Carter lost his patience. He grabbed both of her wrists, pinning her arms above her head, and pressed his body weight against her legs to hold her still.

They both breathed heavily in the tight space, their eyes locked in a violent, silent war in the dark.

An hour later, the tires screeched to a halt in front of the massive stone fountain of the Long Island estate.

Carter dragged her out of the car, ignoring the rain, and pulled her up the steps into the grand foyer.

The blinding light of the crystal chandelier hit Evelyn's eyes, sobering her up slightly.

She ripped her arm out of his grip, taking two steps back, and pointed at the front door, demanding to leave.

Carter tore off his wet suit jacket, throwing it onto a velvet chair, and yelled that this was her home.

Evelyn let out a cold, sharp laugh. She looked around the massive room and called it nothing but a prison for his breeding stock.

She reached out and grabbed a Ming dynasty antique vase resting on the entryway console.

Without a second of hesitation, she hurled it down onto the marble floor right at Carter's feet.

The deafening crash echoed through the massive house as millions of dollars shattered into jagged porcelain dust.

The veins in Carter's forehead throbbed. He took a heavy step toward her.

Suddenly, all the color drained from Evelyn's face. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, and collapsed onto the bottom step of the grand staircase, gasping in pain.