Chapter 3

Haylee stood perfectly still by the espresso machine. The ceramic cup in her hand was warm, grounding her.

Cynthia was screaming at a young lounge attendant.

"This is lukewarm!" Cynthia shrieked. She slammed the cup down onto the attendant's tray. Dark coffee splashed across the girl's white uniform. Cynthia didn't even blink.

In the booth, Leo tapped the screen of his tablet. He raised the device, snapped a quick, high-definition photo of Cynthia's distorted, screaming face from across the room, and used a drawing app to quickly sketch a fat pink pig nose over her features. He hit send, dropping the edited image directly to Haylee's phone with a vomiting emoji attached.

Haylee felt her phone buzz. She glanced at the screen, a cold smirk touching her lips.

She picked up her coffee and stepped out from behind the plants. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor.

Cynthia was opening her mouth to yell again when she caught movement in her peripheral vision. She turned her head, irritated.

Cynthia's eyes locked onto Haylee's face.

The color drained from Cynthia's cheeks in an instant. She stumbled backward, her high heel catching on the carpet. She crashed into a leather chair, knocking it over.

Her bodyguards rushed forward, but Cynthia pushed them away, her hands shaking violently as she pointed at Haylee.

"You..." Cynthia stammered, her voice cracking with raw terror. "Haylee?"

Haylee took a slow sip of her coffee. Her eyes swept over Cynthia like she was looking at a stain on the floor.

"It's been a long time, Cynthia," Haylee said, her American accent crisp and lethal. "You still lack basic manners."

The shock wore off, replaced instantly by a toxic, burning jealousy. Cynthia stared at Haylee's flawless skin, her expensive clothes, the sheer aura of power radiating from her.

Cynthia straightened up, forcing a loud, mocking laugh. "Look who crawled out of the ocean! You disappeared like a stray dog, and now you're sneaking into VIP lounges?"

People in the lounge turned their heads. Cynthia's PR assistant, Otto, immediately pulled out his phone, ready to record.

Haylee didn't flinch at the camera. She looked Cynthia up and down.

"You still use screaming to hide your ignorance, just like five years ago," Haylee said, her voice carrying clearly across the room. "It seems the Bowen family's education level hasn't grown alongside their wealth."

Cynthia's face turned a violent shade of red. She screamed for security. "Get her out! She's a thief! She sneaked in here!"

Two large airport security guards jogged over, their expressions stern. They looked at Haylee. "Ma'am, I need to see your VIP credentials."

Cynthia crossed her arms, a triumphant smirk spreading across her face. "Record this, Otto. Send it to Page Six."

Haylee calmly set her coffee cup down. She reached into her bag for the Aethelred Group invitation.

Before her fingers could touch the paper, the heavy double doors of the lounge were shoved open.

Two men in black suits stepped inside, followed by an older man in a pristine, tailored suit. His silver hair was slicked back. He carried an air of absolute, suffocating authority.

Bertram. The head butler of the Keith family.

The security guards froze, instantly recognizing the man who represented the most powerful family in New York.

Cynthia's eyes lit up. She thought Bertram was there for her. She pushed past her assistants, plastering on a sickly sweet smile. "Mr. Bertram! I didn't expect-"

Bertram walked right past her. He didn't even look at her.

He stopped directly in front of Haylee.

In front of the entire staring lounge, the man who commanded billionaires bowed deeply at the waist.

"Dr. Mathews," Bertram said, his voice echoing in the dead silence. "Welcome back to New York. Mr. Benedict sent me to escort you."

The lounge stopped breathing.

Cynthia's jaw dropped. Her eyes bulged as if she had been physically struck.

The security guards went pale, stepping back quickly, sweat beading on their foreheads.

Haylee gave a slight nod. She turned her head slowly, letting her eyes rest on Cynthia's frozen, horrified face.

Cynthia lost her mind. "No! You have the wrong person!" she shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at Haylee. "She's a fake! She's bankrupt!"

Bertram turned his head. His eyes were like ice.

"Madam, watch your tone," Bertram said softly, but the threat was deafening. "Dr. Mathews is the most honored guest of the Aethelred Group."

Bertram raised a single finger.

His two bodyguards stepped forward. They grabbed Cynthia by the arms and shoved her back roughly.

Cynthia's ankle twisted. She fell hard onto the carpet, her sunglasses flying off, her hair falling into a messy tangle over her face.

Haylee looked down at her, let out a soft scoff, and turned her back. She walked toward Leo's booth, leaving Cynthia humiliated on the floor.