Ayleen didn't even grab an umbrella. She sprinted out of the apartment building and threw herself into a cab, screaming at the driver to get to Manhattan Central Hospital.
She burst through the emergency room doors. The sharp smell of bleach hit her nose. She scanned the chaotic crowd frantically.
At the end of the corridor, outside the surgical wing, Brenda was slumped on a plastic chair, shaking uncontrollably. Ayleen ran to her.
Brenda lunged forward, her fingernails digging deep into Ayleen's arm. "Duard hit a limited-edition sports car! He destroyed it!"
A man in a sharp suit stepped out from the shadows. He was a lawyer. He handed Ayleen a thick stack of papers.
"The damages exceed three million dollars," the lawyer said, his voice flat. "If the compensation isn't wired immediately, Mr. Avery will face bankruptcy and severe criminal charges for reckless endangerment."
Ayleen stared at the astronomical number. Black spots danced in her vision. Her knees buckled, and her back slammed against the wall to keep from falling.
Brenda burst into fresh tears. "We raised you! We fed you! It's time you pay us back, Ayleen! You have to save him!"
Ayleen bit her lip so hard it bled. The metallic taste grounded her. She pulled out her phone and dialed the investors of her small tech startup.
Call after call went to voicemail. The moment they heard the Avery name was tied to a multi-million dollar lawsuit, they vanished like ghosts.
Across town, Haleigh sat in the back of a luxury town car arranged by Adrian. She twirled the rose necklace around her finger, a vicious smile on her lips.
Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Ayleen: Did you see my necklace in the breakroom? Please.
Haleigh's eyes gleamed with malice. Despite being stung by Cassius's terrifying coldness just moments ago, the mere thought of trampling Ayleen under her six-inch heels gave her a sick, twisted sense of satisfaction. She needed Ayleen to know that even if she was currently being given the cold shoulder, her situation was still infinitely better than Ayleen's pathetic life. She blocked Ayleen's number immediately. She opened Instagram and posted a selfie with the caption: Living in the clouds.
The town car pulled up to a luxury high-rise on the Upper East Side. Haleigh stepped onto the plush lobby carpet, her vanity fully fed.
Back at the hospital, the red light above the operating room shut off. A doctor walked out. "He's stable. But we need the surgical fees paid in full right now."
Ayleen checked her banking app. A red banner flashed across the screen. The banking system had detected the massive liability lawsuit tied to the Avery group and, acting on strict risk control protocols, had unilaterally frozen all withdrawal privileges on the accounts. She had nothing.
Desperate, Ayleen decided to sell her personal patents. She turned and sprinted out of the hospital doors.
As her foot hit the bottom step, a massive black Rolls-Royce glided to a halt, blocking her path entirely.
The tinted window rolled down. Mr. Watts, the Doyle family butler, stared at her with dead eyes. "Get in."
Ayleen stepped back in panic. Two massive bodyguards materialized behind her. They grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into the spacious backseat.
The doors locked with a heavy thud. Ayleen beat her fists against the glass.
Mr. Watts handed her a tissue. "Madam Matilda wishes to see you."
The Rolls-Royce drove into a hidden, sprawling estate. Ayleen was marched into an antique study. The air was thick with the smell of sandalwood.
Matilda Doyle sat behind a mahogany desk. She calmly rolled a string of wooden prayer beads between her fingers. Her eyes dragged over Ayleen like she was inspecting a cheap piece of meat.
"Why did you kidnap me?" Ayleen demanded, her voice shaking.
Matilda laughed. It was a dry, venomous sound. She tossed a thick legal binder onto the desk.
"Marry my stepson," Matilda commanded. "And I will wipe the Avery debt clean."
Ayleen's eyes widened in horror. "No. I won't sell myself."
Matilda didn't flinch. She tapped a tablet screen. A security video played. It showed Duard Avery trying to flee the scene of the crash before collapsing.
"If you refuse," Matilda's voice dropped to a lethal whisper, "this video goes to the police. Your father will die in a prison cell."
Ayleen's fists clenched. Her nails dug into her palms until the skin broke. She stared at her pathetic father on the screen. Her mental defenses shattered into dust.
The study fell into a suffocating silence.
Ayleen closed her eyes. A single tear slipped down her cheek.
"I agree," she whispered. Her voice was completely broken.
