Chapter 3

The man poured a glass of amber liquid and handed it to me. I took it with trembling fingers.

"Drink," he commanded softly.

I took a sip. The alcohol burned down my throat. It grounded me just enough to stop my teeth from chattering.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

"My name is Johansen Silva," he said. He walked over to a sleek glass desk and picked up the crumpled photograph I had dropped in the lobby. "I own this hotel. I own a great many things in this city. But more importantly, I know exactly who the man in this picture is."

I swallowed hard. "You know Reese?"

"I know him intimately," Johansen replied. His voice dropped to a dangerous, freezing register. "I have been investigating him obsessively for the past four months."

"Why?" I asked. My voice cracked.

Johansen turned to face me. The mask of the untouchable billionaire slipped away. I saw a raw, agonizing grief in his piercing eyes. It was a pain that perfectly mirrored my own.

"Because four months ago, the love of my life was murdered," Johansen said.

I gasped. "Murdered?"

Johansen stepped closer. His jaw tightened with suppressed rage. "My fiancée was crossing the street. A car ran a red light and struck her. It was a brutal hit-and-run. She was rushed to the nearest private hospital. She was clinging to life. She could have survived. She just needed emergency surgery."

He paused. He looked down at the photograph of Reese.

"Reese Castillo was the attending surgeon on call that night," Johansen continued. His voice was laced with pure venom. "He took her into the operating room. But he did not try to save her. He deliberately botched the operation. He let her bleed out on the table."

"No," I whispered. I shook my head frantically. "No, Reese is a doctor. He saves people. He would never do that."

"He did it to protect his wife," Johansen snapped. "My private investigators finally tracked down the driver of the car that hit my fiancée. It was Chloe. She was drunk. She panicked and called her husband. Reese knew that if my fiancée woke up, she would identify Chloe's license plate. So he made sure she never woke up."

I backed away. My mind could not process the horror of his words.

"They covered their tracks perfectly," Johansen said. "Reese altered the medical charts. He blamed a fatal medication error on an innocent paramedic. That paramedic is sitting in a prison cell right now. Reese and Chloe walked away completely free."

The room spun. My childhood best friend was a killer. The man I loved was an accomplice to murder.

"I brought you up here to make a deal," Johansen said. He held out his hand. "I need someone on the inside. I need someone who knows his past. Help me destroy them. I will give you the power to take everything they have."

I stared at his extended hand. My heart pounded violently against my ribs. Eight years. I had loved Reese for eight years. We had shared our deepest secrets. We had planned our entire future together. I could not just erase that because a stranger told me a horrifying story. I needed to hear it from him. I needed to hear his side.

"No," I said. I stepped back. "I cannot do this. I cannot betray him. Not without talking to him first. There has to be an explanation."

Johansen dropped his hand. His eyes turned cold again. "You are a fool. But go ahead. Call him."

My hands shook violently as I pulled my phone from my wet purse. I dialed Reese's number. The phone rang three times.

"What is it, Ali?" Reese answered. His tone was sharp and deeply annoyed. "I told you I am busy."

"I am in London," I choked out.

The line went dead silent.

"What did you just say?" Reese asked. His voice dropped to a frantic whisper.

"I am in London," I repeated. Tears spilled down my cheeks. "I went to your old apartment. Then I went to Mayfair. I saw you, Reese. I saw you with Chloe. I saw the little boy."

I waited for the apology. I waited for him to break down and beg for my forgiveness. I waited for him to explain the terrible things Johansen had just told me.

Instead, Reese exploded.

"Are you out of your mind?" Reese hissed. His voice was filled with a vicious, ugly rage I had never heard before. "You followed me? You are stalking me now? How dare you show up here and ruin my life!"

"Ruin your life?" I sobbed. "You lied to me for six years! You took my money!"

"You gave me that money!" he shouted back. "I never forced you! You are pathetic, Alicia. You always have been. You cling to me because you have absolutely nothing else."

I stopped breathing. The cruel words felt like a physical blow to my stomach.

Then, I heard a second voice on the line. It was a woman's voice in the background. It was clear and unmistakable.

"Is it my bitch best friend?" Chloe sneered.

I froze.

"Come on, Reese," Chloe continued lazily. "I told you to end everything with her. You don't need her. You just pity her."

"Chloe, stop," Reese muttered.

"Why should I stop?" Chloe laughed. It was a cold, heartless sound. "If she causes any trouble, we can just throw her in the sea. No one would even look for her. She is an orphan."

The line went dead.

I slowly lowered the phone from my ear. The tears on my face stopped falling. The desperate, heartbroken girl inside of me died in that exact second.

My chest hollowed out. The warmth of my love was instantly replaced by a freezing, absolute hatred.

I let my phone drop to the floor. It shattered against the marble tiles.

I turned back to the billionaire. I looked directly into his ice-cold eyes.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked.