Chapter 2

With a deafening crash, the thin wooden door of the cabin flew off its hinges, and swirling snow rushed inside.

Banks Gordon stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders covered in snow and the hem of his black overcoat torn by branches. As the ruthless head of the Gordon financial empire on Wall Street, he had been Hazel's sworn enemy for years. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, and his ice-blue eyes shrank the second he spotted the motionless figure tied to the pillar.

Ignoring the broken glass and wood splinters underfoot, Banks strode forward, dropped to one knee in the snow, and yanked off his leather gloves. He pulled a military tactical folding knife from his belt and sliced through the thick hemp ropes binding Hazel's wrists.

Without the ropes holding her up, Hazel slumped forward. Banks caught her icy body in his strong arms, pulling her tight against his warm chest.

Hazel forced her eyelids open a crack, making out the sharp jawline of Manhattan's most feared billionaire. Her pale lips quivered. "Banks... why... is it you..."

Banks stripped off his warm cashmere coat, wrapped it tightly around her, and frantically rubbed her frozen hands between his palms. "Don't sleep, Hazel! Look at me. Keep your eyes open!"

Just then, the satellite phone dropped by the kidnapper in the snow lit up. An encrypted video message popped up and played automatically.

On the screen, Kaylee sat inside a warm, luxurious RV, tilting a glass of red wine toward the camera with a twisted smile. "Dear cousin Hazel, thank you for being so stupid. You didn't just hand Hugh over to me—you even took the blame for killing your own parents."

Kaylee swirled her wine, her voice sweet and venomous. "I was the one who cut the brake lines before their car crash. And tomorrow night, that Best Actress statue is mine too."

Hazel's heart felt as if an invisible hand had squeezed it shut. The truth hit her like a physical blow. Her parents hadn't died in an accident caused by Banks's business retaliation, as Hugh had told her for years. The murderer was the cousin she had protected, and she had spent years hating the wrong man.

Banks glanced at the screen, murderous rage flashing in his ice-blue eyes, before he pressed his warm forehead against hers. His voice shook with sheer panic. "Don't listen to that, Hazel. Hold on to me! The ambulance is three miles away. I'm getting you out!"

He scooped her up into his arms and charged out into the blizzard, where the snow was already knee-deep. The wind howled at thirty below zero. When he reached the SUV, the engine let out a harsh grinding noise and died completely in the extreme cold.

Cursing under his breath, Banks carried her back into the corner of the cabin out of the wind. He tore off his suit jacket, trying to use every bit of his body heat to warm herweight frame.

Warm drops of liquid fell onto Hazel's frozen cheek, melting the frost. The ruthless tyrant of Wall Street was crying for her.

Banks ripped open his shirt collar and pressed her icy cheek directly against his bare, pounding chest. Through her fading senses, Hazel's numb fingertips brushed against a raised scar over his heart—a tattooed letter "H" carved deep into his skin.

He buried his face in her frozen hair, his voice breaking into choked sobs. "Since the first time I saw you in the hallway at that Long Island prep school when we were seventeen... my life has been yours... Please, don't leave me..."

Ten years of hidden love crashed over Hazel. The man she had treated as her mortal enemy was the only one willing to die for her. She used her last shred of strength to raise her hand, wanting to touch his face and say she was sorry.

Her fingertips brushed the rough stubble on his jaw, and then her arm dropped lifelessly to the floor. Her heart stopped, and her eyes slid shut.

Feeling the body in his arms go completely cold, Banks froze. A second later, a raw, agonizing roar tore from his throat.

Above the cabin floor, a pale, translucent soul drifted up from the corpse. Floating in midair, Hazel looked down at Banks clutching her dead body and weeping, while transparent tears slipped down her face.