The heavy thud of a leather-bound folder hitting the floor beside her head makes Katerina flinch.
"Sign the divorce papers," Cayden says, his voice echoing from somewhere above her. "You have one hour to get your things and get out."
He turns on his heel. The heavy oak doors slam shut. The electronic lock clicks, sealing her inside the tomb of their marriage.
Katerina lies on the carpet, her chest heaving. The bitter taste of the pill coats the back of her throat.
A primal, violent instinct overrides the shock.
She scrambles to her feet, her knees scraping against the broken glass of the vase. She doesn't feel the cuts. She stumbles down the hallway, her hands clutching the walls for balance, and throws herself into the master bathroom.
She drops to her knees in front of the porcelain toilet. Without a second of hesitation, she shoves two fingers deep down her throat.
She gags. Her eyes water, stinging with broken blood vessels.
She pushes her fingers deeper, scraping the back of her tongue. Her stomach convulses violently.
Acid burns her esophagus. She vomits, a harsh, tearing sound echoing in the tiled room. She gasps for air, then does it again. And again.
Finally, amidst the bile and water, she sees the half-dissolved white chalkiness of the pill.
She slumps against the edge of the cold bathtub, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. She presses both hands to her belly. A soft, fluttery kick answers her touch.
A sob rips from her throat. He is alive.
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. The Katerina who loved Cayden Merritt died on that living room floor. The woman sitting by the bathtub is just a mother. And she has to run.
She drags herself back to the living room. She picks up the pen lying next to the divorce papers. Her hand is steady as she scrawls her signature across the bottom line.
The electronic lock on the front door beeps.
Cayden walks back in, Simon trailing him. He stops when he sees her standing there, the signed papers in her hand. His brow furrows in deep irritation.
"Why are you still here?" he snaps.
Katerina looks at him. The amber eyes she used to get lost in now just look like dirty glass.
"I'm leaving," she says, her voice raspy from the stomach acid. "But before I go, you need to know something. Since you care so much about the truth."
Cayden crosses his arms, looking at his watch. "Make it fast."
"Three years ago, when your kidneys failed, you didn't get a transplant from an anonymous donor." Katerina stares dead into his eyes. "It was me. I gave you my kidney."
Cayden freezes. His posture stiffens, his eyes narrowing as he searches her face. For a fraction of a second, the ice in his eyes cracks.
Then, a soft ping comes from his pocket.
Cayden pulls out his phone. The screen lights up with a text from Carmella. Katerina can see the little heart emoji next to her name.
Cayden reads the text. A lie. It had to be. And yet... the sheer conviction in her dead eyes sent a sudden sliver of ice through his chest. He tightened his grip on the phone, violently crushing the thought before it could take root. Carmella was the victim here. This was just another one of Katerina's desperate manipulations. The crack in the ice seals over, thicker than before. He lets out a harsh, barking laugh.
"You are truly pathetic," he sneers, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "You'll say anything to stay in this penthouse. Carmella donated that kidney. I have the medical records. I saw the scar on her body."
Katerina's breath hitches. Carmella had stolen everything. Even her flesh and blood.
"Get her out of here," Cayden orders the bodyguards. "Throw her on the street."
The two massive men grab Katerina by the arms. They drag her toward the elevator. She doesn't fight them. She just turns her head, locking her dead, empty eyes on Cayden one last time.
They drag her through the lobby and shove her through the revolving doors.
Katerina stumbles and falls hard onto the wet concrete.
The Manhattan sky has broken open. Freezing, torrential rain pounds against the pavement, instantly soaking through her thin maternity dress. The cold bites into her bones. Pedestrians hurry past under black umbrellas, no one sparing a glance for the pregnant woman shivering on the ground.
She forces herself to stand, wrapping her arms around her belly. She starts walking, her bare feet numb against the flooded asphalt.
A sleek, black, bulletproof Maybach glides through the rain and stops right beside her.
The tinted rear window rolls down. Elie Mcdonald sits in the shadows, his sharp features illuminated by the streetlights. He extends a heavy black umbrella out the window.
"Are you ready to let Katerina Herman die?" Elie's voice is a low rumble over the sound of the rain.
Katerina reaches out. Her cold fingers wrap tightly around the handle of the umbrella.
"Yes," she says.
