Chapter 3

A wall of blinding flashes exploded in Beatrix's face the moment she stepped through the cathedral's arched stone exit.

Dozens of reporters surged past the police barricades, thrusting microphones toward her.

"Ms. Mcclure! Is it true you faked your death for four years?"

"Are you taking back the Mcclure Group?"

"Did Jaziel orchestrate your kidnapping?"

Julian stepped in front of her immediately, using his broad shoulders to carve a path through the screaming press corps.

Behind them, the heavy doors opened again as FBI agents marched Jaziel down the wide granite steps. His tailored tuxedo stood out starkly against the steel handcuffs binding his wrists.

The media pack pivoted instantly, abandoning Beatrix to swarm the federal agents.

"Mr. Small, do you have a statement regarding the money laundering charges?"

"Is the Small Consortium facing bankruptcy?"

Jaziel ignored the shouting reporters entirely. Over the sea of cameras and microphones, his dark, piercing gaze cut straight through the crowd, locking onto Beatrix's retreating back.

Beatrix felt the weight of his stare like heat against her skin. Her steps faltered for a fraction of a second before she forced herself forward.

Julian opened the rear door of a sleek, unmarked black sedan idling at the curb.

A desperate cameraman lunged forward, jamming his hand onto the car door frame to keep it open.

"Just one comment, Ms. Mcclure!"

Beatrix reached out, peeled the cameraman's fingers off the frame with practiced pressure, and gave him a razor-thin smile.

"No comment."

She pulled the door shut with a heavy thud, cutting off the noise outside.

Julian jumped into the driver's seat, hit the gas, and pulled the sedan smoothly into Manhattan traffic.

Through the tinted rear window, Beatrix watched the agents shove Jaziel into the back of an armored federal SUV. His expression remained an impenetrable block of stone.

"You pulled it off," Julian said, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. "The wedding is shattered. His reputation is in the gutter."

Beatrix leaned her head back against the leather seat, exhaling a slow breath. Instead of the triumph she expected, a strange hollowness sat in her stomach.

"It was too clean," Beatrix murmured, her brow furrowing. "Jaziel didn't fight back. He didn't even call his lawyers."

Julian steered through a crowded intersection on Fifth Avenue.

"The federal evidence was airtight. What choice did he have?"

"You don't know him," Beatrix replied, her fingernails digging into her palms. "Jaziel never walks into a trap unless he laid the foundations himself."

Behind them, on the cathedral steps, Denita stood alone in her ruined lace gown.

The remaining high-society guests filed past her, their open mockery ringing through the autumn air.

"Look at her," a prominent socialite sneered, adjusting her diamond necklace. "The parasite finally lost her host."

Denita covered her face with her hands, sobbing uncontrollably as camera flashes caught every tear.

Inside the moving sedan, Beatrix's encrypted phone vibrated against her thigh.

She pulled it out and unlocked the screen. A text from an untraceable European number appeared:

The Mcclure assets have been frozen by federal order. The Earl is pleased with your opening move.

Beatrix deleted the thread instantly.

"Take me to the safehouse, Julian. I need to prepare for the board's reaction."

"On it," Julian said, taking a sharp turn toward the Lower East Side as rain began to patter against the windshield.

Beatrix closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of Jaziel in handcuffs. Yet his low whisper—Welcome home, Beatrix—refused to leave her mind.

She pulled her blazer tighter around her shoulders, trying to shake off the sudden chill in her veins.

Julian checked his side mirror, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.

"Beatrix... we have a tail."

Beatrix opened her eyes and turned toward the rear glass.

A black, heavily armored SUV with dark government plates had matched their speed, trailing two car lengths behind them through the pouring rain.