The heavy mahogany door slammed shut behind Carla, cutting off the air in the room.
Julien stared at the closed door. His jaw was locked so tight his teeth ached. He suddenly shoved Charis away from him.
Charis stumbled backward, her heels catching on the thick carpet. The smug smile vanished from her face. She stared at him in shock.
Julien didn't say a single word to her. He took long, aggressive strides toward the door, ripped it open, and walked out.
The hallway was empty. The digital numbers above the VIP elevator were already dropping.
Julien cursed under his breath. He turned and walked swiftly to the end of the corridor. He pulled out a sleek platinum access card, swiped it against the electronic reader, and shoved open the heavy metal door to the employee stairwell.
Inside the suite, Charis was left standing alone with Eleni.
The elegant mask Charis wore completely shattered. Her face twisted into an ugly sneer of pure rage.
She spun around. Her heels clicked furiously against the floor as she marched toward the sofa.
Eleni began to tremble violently. The little girl pressed herself into the corner of the cushions, wrapping her arms around her stuffed rabbit like a shield.
Charis reached out and grabbed Eleni's thin arm. Her manicured nails dug into the child's skin. The force was so brutal that Eleni's skin instantly turned white around Charis's grip.
"Don't you dare make a sound," Charis hissed, her voice a venomous whisper.
Eleni's eyes filled with tears, but her vocal cords remained paralyzed by trauma. She didn't make a peep.
"You are useless," Charis spat at the child. "You can't even keep his attention in the room for five minutes."
Charis shoved Eleni's arm away in disgust. She dug into her purse and pulled out her phone, immediately dialing her private investigator.
"I need a full background check on a substitute music therapist," Charis ordered into the phone. "Right now."
Three floors down, in the underground parking garage, Carla's frantic footsteps echoed against the concrete walls.
She was sweating. She ran until she reached her beat-up, rusted Honda Civic parked in the darkest corner of the lot.
Her hands were shaking so violently she couldn't get the key into the lock. The metal key scratched against the car door three times before it finally slid in.
Carla yanked the door open and threw herself into the driver's seat. She slammed her hand down on the central lock button. The loud click made her feel a tiny fraction of safety.
She dropped her forehead against the steering wheel. She gasped for air. The tears she had been holding back finally broke free, dropping onto the dusty dashboard.
Suddenly, the deafening roar of a massive engine echoed through the concrete garage.
Carla's head snapped up in terror.
A silver Aston Martin tore around the corner like a predator.
The sports car slammed on its brakes. The tires shrieked against the concrete. The Aston Martin swerved and parked horizontally, directly across the front bumper of Carla's Honda.
There was less than two inches of space between the cars. Her only exit was completely blocked.
The driver's side door of the Aston Martin swung upward.
Julien stepped out. The dark aura radiating off his body was terrifying.
He walked straight to Carla's window. He raised his hand and knocked on the glass.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Every strike of his knuckles against the glass felt like a hammer hitting Carla's skull.
Carla pressed her back hard against her seat, shrinking away from the window. She stared out at the man who was currently her worst nightmare.
