Chapter 2

Antoinette stopped right beside Hiram. She stood close enough to feel the heat radiating from his large frame. The sheer size of his shoulders created a physical wall between her and the rest of the town. Her racing heartbeat began to slow.

Fabian's face turned an ugly shade of purple. He took a reckless step forward, his hand reaching out to grab Antoinette's arm again. "You're coming with me-"

Hiram's eyes dropped to the extended hand. The temperature in the air seemed to plummet.

He didn't move. He just stared at Fabian's hand with a look so violently cold that Fabian froze. The younger man's hand hovered in mid-air, trembling slightly under the crushing weight of Hiram's glare, before slowly dropping back to his side.

Antoinette took a deep breath. She turned to face the crowd of neighbors and a seething Eleanor.

"The verbal engagement between Fabian and me is over," Antoinette announced, her voice projecting clearly. "It never existed."

A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers.

Fabian's jaw tightened. Humiliation burned in his eyes. He quickly plastered on a look of deep sorrow. "Everyone, please. She's not in her right mind. She needs to be evaluated by a doctor immediately."

"Enough."

Hiram's voice cut through Fabian's performance. It wasn't loud, but it carried a terrifying authority.

"I am the emergency contact designated by her late father," Hiram stated flatly. "I am taking her."

Antoinette tilted her head up. She looked at the sharp, unforgiving line of Hiram's jaw. "Please," she whispered. "Take me to New York."

Hiram looked down. His dark eyes scanned her tear-stained face, lingering on the fierce, desperate determination in her gaze.

Silence stretched for three agonizing seconds.

Hiram gave a single, curt nod. "Done."

Eleanor lost her mind. She pushed past a neighbor, her face red. "You can't just take her! She's a minor! Her trust fund and the estate need to be managed by locals who know the family!"

The front passenger door of the Range Rover opened. Alex Porter, Hiram's security assistant, stepped out and smoothly blocked Eleanor's path.

Alex wore a crisp suit and a polite, dead-eyed smile. He pulled a heavy, cream-colored card with stark, engraved lettering from his inner pocket and handed it to Eleanor.

"The legal team of the Graves family will be handling the liquidation of the Rasmussen estate," Alex said, his tone leaving zero room for argument. "Any further inquiries can be directed to our top-tier law firm in Manhattan."

Eleanor stared at the prestigious name on the card. The color drained from her face. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

Fabian stood paralyzed. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. He watched his carefully laid plans for wealth evaporate into thin air.

Hiram ignored them. He turned his back on the town and pulled open the heavy, armored door of the Range Rover.

Antoinette gathered the skirt of her black dress and climbed into the back seat without a single backward glance.

Hiram got in beside her. The heavy door slammed shut with a solid thud, instantly cutting off the murmurs and the greedy stares of the crowd.

The interior of the SUV was a sanctuary. It smelled of expensive leather and a faint trace of cedarwood. It was so quiet she could only hear the soft hum of the air conditioning.

Hiram reached into the center console. He pulled out a crisp white tissue and held it out to her.

He didn't ask why she hit Fabian. He didn't ask why she broke off the engagement.

Antoinette reached out with both hands to take the tissue. As she pulled it from his grasp, her cold fingertips brushed against his warm knuckles.

A tiny jolt of electricity shot up her arm. Her breath hitched.

The Range Rover accelerated smoothly, pulling away from the curb and leaving the town behind.

Antoinette turned her head to look out the tinted window. In the side mirror, Fabian's distorted, furious face grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely.

She gripped the tissue tightly in her lap. Her fingernails dug into her palms. She swore to herself, right then and there, that she would never be a victim again.

Beside her, Hiram leaned back against the leather seat. From the corner of his eye, he watched the stubborn set of the girl's profile. A complex flicker of curiosity sparked in his dark eyes.