The morning sun cut through the large glass windows of the SoHo cafe, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air.
Eleanore sat in a corner booth, staring blankly at the oat milk cold brew in front of her. She hadn't slept. The drug had finally worn off, leaving her body aching and her mind spinning in a chaotic loop.
Halle Floyd stomped in, her heavy combat boots hitting the floorboards with purpose. She marched straight to Eleanore's table, took one look at the dark, bruised circles under Eleanore's eyes and her bloodless lips, and immediately pushed a mug of steaming hot water across the table. "You look like you've been chased by ghosts all night. Drink."
Eleanore wrapped her trembling fingers around the ceramic mug, the burning heat the only thing keeping her from collapsing into a dead faint.
Halle slammed her designer tote bag down. "Where the hell have you been?" Halle demanded, her chest heaving. "I called you twenty times! I was ten seconds away from calling the NYPD and telling them Johan finally kidnapped you."
Eleanore didn't say a word. She slowly unzipped her purse, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and slid it across the table.
Halle snatched it up. Her eyes scanned the document. She frowned, thinking it was a joke, until her eyes hit the red seal and the names printed in bold black ink.
Halle's jaw dropped. She slammed her hands on the table and stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Several customers turned to look.
"Are you out of your mind?!" Halle whisper-shouted, leaning over the table. "You married him? You married the wolf of Wall Street?!"
Eleanore rubbed her temples. "It's a contract, Halle. Three months. He gets to humiliate Johan in a boardroom, and I get my father's debts paid off. It's a transaction."
Halle yanked her phone out of her pocket. Her thumbs flew across the screen. She shoved the phone into Eleanore's face.
The screen displayed a Forbes article. The headline read: Alexander Briggs: The Machine That Dismantles Empires. The photo showed Alexander walking out of a courthouse, his eyes cold, his expression entirely devoid of human empathy.
"Look at him, El," Halle pleaded, her voice tight with panic. "This man doesn't have a heart. He has a calculator in his chest. If he's using you to get to Johan, what happens when he's done? You think he's just going to let you walk away? Men like that don't make deals unless they own the board."
Eleanore looked at the picture. She saw the ruthless predator the world saw. But then, unbidden, the memory of last night flashed in her mind-Alexander standing in the freezing rain, his shoulder getting soaked just to keep her dry under the umbrella.
She pushed the phone away. "I don't care. Anything is better than Johan. Johan was going to lock me in a cage. Alexander is just using me for PR."
Halle let out a long, frustrated sigh. She grabbed Eleanore's hand and squeezed it hard. "Fine. But we are getting your stuff out of your apartment right now. If Johan finds out about this, he's going to burn your place to the ground."
They left the cafe and took a cab to Eleanore's small apartment on the edge of the Upper East Side. It was a cramped, fourth-floor walk-up she paid for with her art restoration gigs. It was her only safe haven.
Eleanore unlocked the door. She immediately pulled her suitcase from under the bed and started throwing clothes into it.
Halle went to the bathroom to pack the toiletries. A minute later, she walked out holding a small, framed photograph she had found shoved in the back of a drawer.
It was a picture of Eleanore and Johan from college. Johan was laughing, his eyes bright and clear, completely devoid of the paranoid darkness that consumed him now.
Halle looked at Eleanore with pity.
Eleanore stopped packing. She walked over, her face a mask of stone. She snatched the photo from Halle's hand, ripped the frame apart, and tore the photograph directly down the middle. She threw the pieces into the trash can.
"That boy died a long time ago," Eleanore said coldly. "The man wearing his face is a monster."
Suddenly, three heavy, rhythmic knocks pounded against the apartment door.
Eleanore and Halle froze. The color drained from Eleanore's face. Johan.
Halle grabbed a heavy metal baseball bat from behind the door. Eleanore took a shaky breath, tiptoed to the door, and looked through the peephole.
It wasn't Johan.
It was a man in a sharp black suit. L. Thorne. Behind him stood two massive bodyguards.
Eleanore exhaled a shaky breath and opened the door.
Thorne didn't smile. He held out a sleek, black keycard with an embedded gold chip, along with a thick, wax-sealed envelope.
"Good morning, Mrs. Briggs," Thorne said politely. "Mr. Briggs requested that you keep this certified copy of your marriage license on your person at all times, for your protection. He also requests that you relocate to The Elysium immediately. Your safety is his primary concern during the duration of the agreement."
Eleanore crossed her arms, her defensive instincts flaring. "I can stay here. I have a deadbolt. I don't need to move into his penthouse today."
Thorne didn't argue. He simply stepped to the side and pointed toward the small window at the end of the hallway that overlooked the street.
"There are three black Range Rovers parked on your block," Thorne stated flatly. "They belong to the Conway family. They have been watching your fire escape since 6:00 AM. This location is compromised."
Eleanore's stomach twisted into a tight knot. She walked to the window and peered through the blinds. Down on the street, two men in leather jackets were leaning against a black SUV, staring directly up at her building.
A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck.
She turned around, her jaw set. She grabbed her suitcase. She hugged Halle goodbye, promising to call, and walked out the door with Thorne.
As they walked out of the building, the bodyguards formed a tight wall around her, completely blocking the line of sight from the street.
Eleanore slid into the back of the armored SUV. As the car pulled away, she looked out the tinted window. Her safe haven was gone. She was now entirely in Alexander's world.
