Chapter 4

Finn' s eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who is Marcus Thorne?"

"He' s a federal prosecutor," I said, carefully pushing myself into a sitting position. The world tilted, but I forced it steady. "He was my mentor in law school. More importantly, Damien sees him as a rival and a superior. He' s the one man Damien wouldn' t dare lie to."

I saw a flicker of understanding in Finn' s cold eyes. He was a man who understood power dynamics.

"And he' s in town," I added, the crucial piece of information I held from my past life. "He' s speaking at a conference at the Grand Hyatt, just a few blocks from here."

This was my gambit. In my first life, I had been too scared, too broken to think this clearly. I had just cowered and waited for the disaster to end. This time, I was directing it.

Finn considered my words for a long moment. He looked at the terrified lawyers, the broken glass, the unconscious paralegal on the floor. His current strategy was a dead end.

"Alright," he said finally. He pointed at two of his largest men. "You two. Go with her. Get this Thorne character. If this is a trick..."

He let the threat hang in the air. It didn' t need to be spoken.

The two enforcers grabbed my arms, hauling me to my feet. The movement sent a wave of dizziness through me, but I locked my knees and stood firm. They weren' t gentle. Their fingers dug into my biceps like steel clamps.

They half-dragged, half-walked me out of the main office area, through a service corridor, and into a freight elevator. The ride down was silent and tense. My head throbbed in time with the rattling of the elevator car.

The lobby of the Grand Hyatt was a chaotic swarm of people in business suits, all wearing conference lanyards. My escorts didn't care. They pushed through the crowd like bulldozers, me trapped between them.

We found the ballroom where Marcus was speaking. He was on stage, basking in the applause. He looked exactly the same, confident, handsome, with an air of untouchable authority.

We waited by the exit. When he finally came out, surrounded by admirers, I called his name.

"Marcus!"

He turned, and his face broke into a warm smile when he saw me. "Evie! What a surprise!"

Then his eyes took in my appearance, the blood on my lip, the disheveled state of my suit, and the two menacing figures flanking me. His smile vanished.

"What' s going on?" he asked, his tone shifting from friendly to concerned.

Before I could explain, his phone buzzed. He held up a hand to silence me and answered it.

"Damien? What' s wrong?"

I watched as Marcus' s expression changed. It went from concern, to confusion, to disbelief, and finally, to cold, hard anger. He was listening to Damien' s poison.

He hung up the phone and looked at me. The warmth was gone, replaced by a look of profound disappointment and disgust.

"Evelyn," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "This has to stop."