Chapter 8

"Put the gun down, Chloe."

Reese kept his voice dangerously calm. He did not break eye contact.

Chloe's hands shook violently. The barrel of the gun wavered. "You ruined my life. You used me."

Reese took a slow step forward. "I was lying to her. I told you that."

"Liar!" she screamed.

She blinked. Tears blurred her vision for a fraction of a second. That was all the opening Reese needed. He lunged forward. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it hard.

Chloe shrieked in pain. The gun clattered onto the ruined hardwood floor. Reese shoved her backward. She collapsed onto the sofa and sobbed hysterically.

Reese kicked the gun across the room. He stared at his weeping wife. The marriage was completely dead. She was a massive liability.

If Johansen Silva came for them, Chloe would drag him down.

He needed an exit strategy. He needed to be the victim.

If he went to the police first, he could pin the entire cover-up on her. He could claim she held him hostage in the marriage. He could claim she forced him to botch the surgery under threat of death.

He would throw her to the wolves. He would walk away clean.

---

The ballroom was blindingly bright. Crystal chandeliers cast a harsh glow over the elite crowd of London.

Johansen stood beside me. He held a glass of champagne. He did not drink it. We were surrounded by hundreds of people, but we were entirely alone in our cold, calculated transaction. We were here to establish our power. We were here to make sure society knew I was untouchable.

"They just walked in," Johansen murmured. His voice was a flat, emotionless drawl.

I turned my head. Reese and Chloe were stepping into the ballroom. They were putting on a desperate, pathetic performance.

Reese forced a charming smile. Chloe clung to his arm. They were trying to prove to the world that they were still a perfect, powerful couple.

Johansen placed his hand on my lower back. "Smile, Alicia. Your ex-boyfriend is watching."

I forced the corners of my mouth up. Johansen pulled me flush against his chest. He leaned down and brushed his lips against my jawline.

To the rest of the room, it looked like a moment of intense, burning passion.

I felt absolutely nothing.

Johansen's touch was cold. His eyes were completely dead. We were perfectly synchronized in our hatred for Reese, but we were emotionally barren.

I was a prop in his revenge. He was a shield in mine. The icy reality of our arrangement settled heavily in my chest.

I looked past Johansen's shoulder. Reese was staring directly at us. His fake smile was gone. His face was flushed red with absolute, consuming jealousy. He hated seeing me with another man. He hated seeing me wield power he could never touch.

Johansen pulled back. He did not look at my face. He kept his gaze locked on Reese.

"It is working," Johansen said coldly. "He is losing his mind."

"I need a moment," I said.

Johansen dropped his hand immediately. He turned his attention back to the crowd. He did not ask if I was okay. He did not care.

I walked away from the ballroom. I needed to escape the suffocating tension. I navigated the quiet, carpeted hallways until I found the women's restroom.

I pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside. The restroom was empty. I walked over to the marble sinks. I turned on the cold water and splashed it on my wrists. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I did not recognize the cold, hardened woman staring back at me.

The restroom door swung open.

I looked up at the mirror. Chloe stumbled into the room.

She looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot. She swayed slightly on her feet. The heavy scent of pure vodka radiated off her skin. She had been drinking heavily before they even arrived at the gala.

Chloe turned and pushed the heavy deadbolt on the door. It locked with a loud, final click.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned around to face her.

"Unlock that door, Chloe," I demanded.

Chloe laughed. It was a wet, broken sound. "You think you won. You think you can just take my husband and ruin my life."

"You ruined your own life," I said. "Now get out of my way."

I took a step toward the door.

Chloe reached into her small clutch purse. Her hand whipped out. Silver metal flashed under the harsh vanity lights.

She was holding a heavy, sharp letter opener. The blade was pointed directly at my chest.

"You took everything from me," Chloe slurred. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Her grip on the handle tightened. "I am not going to let you walk out of here, Alicia. If I lose everything, you lose your life."

She lunged forward.