Alena pushed the door open and walked straight into the living room. She didn't bother flipping the light switch. The gray morning light filtering through the windows was enough as she turned to face the two people trailing behind her.
Darrin stepped into the apartment, his eyes scanning the familiar furniture. He opened his mouth to speak, trying to use that soft, intimate tone he always used to control her.
Katrina pushed past him. She looked around the modest apartment with obvious disgust and dropped onto the Italian leather sofa, crossing her legs like she owned the place.
Alena didn't take off Andrew's coat. She stood behind the kitchen island, crossing her arms over her chest, creating a physical barrier between herself and them.
"You have three minutes," Alena said, staring at the clock on the wall. "Start lying."
Darrin took a deep breath. He put on his best tortured expression. "Alena, Payne Real Estate is drowning. The supply chain credit just got cut this morning. The only way the Spencer family will inject capital is if Katrina and I get married."
He took a step toward the island, reaching his hand out as if to touch her. "I did this to protect you. To protect your family's legacy. You know I love you."
Alena's stomach violently heaved. She snatched a Clorox wipe from the counter and aggressively wiped her hands, staring right at him.
"You fucked my sister to save my family?" Alena's voice dripped with pure acid. "Wow, Darrin. You're a real hero."
Katrina slammed her hand against the armrest of the sofa. She stood up, her face twisting with spite.
"He loves me!" Katrina shrieked. "You were just a boring, frigid placeholder! You don't even make a sound in bed!"
Darrin's face flushed dark red. "Katrina, shut up!" he snapped, his deep-in-love act shattering instantly.
Alena looked at them. She felt completely numb. She couldn't believe she had wasted three years of her life on this pathetic, social-climbing coward.
She walked over to her small desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and grabbed a thick stack of bound paper. She walked back to the island and threw the stack directly at Darrin's chest.
The heavy papers hit him hard and scattered across the floor.
"That is the venture capital pitch I stayed up for three weeks writing for you," Alena said, her voice rising. "The one you used to beg the Spencer executives for a meeting. Don't stand in my house and tell me you did this for me."
Darrin looked down at the papers. His mask completely fell off. His eyes darkened with a vicious, humiliated rage.
Katrina rolled her eyes. She reached into her Birkin bag, pulled out a stapled legal document, and slammed it onto the glass coffee table.
"Enough of this," Katrina sneered. "Sign the NDA. You admit that you and Darrin broke up mutually six months ago, and that your little stunt at the party was a mental breakdown."
Alena glanced at the paper. It also demanded she leave New York and surrender her minor shares in Payne Real Estate.
She let out a dry, hollow laugh. She picked up the document, ripped it cleanly in half, and dropped the pieces into the trash can.
"I'm going to send the photos of you two to every media outlet in the city," Alena said, staring Katrina down.
Darrin snapped. He lunged across the kitchen island. He didn't hit her, but his large hand shot out, clamping around her wrist with a bruising, vicious grip.
He shoved her backward. Her spine slammed against the refrigerator door. The impact knocked the breath out of her. He stepped into her space, using his larger frame to pin her against the cold steel, his forearm pressing dangerously close to her collarbone, trapping her completely.
"You will shut your mouth!" Darrin hissed, his voice dropping to a terrifying, calculated whisper. "Do you have any idea what is at stake here? If you ruin my career, if you breathe a word of this to the press, I will systematically destroy everything you have left. I will make sure you never work in this city again."
His grip tightened on her wrist, grinding her bones together. Alena's heart hammered against her ribs, but she refused to look away.
She didn't panic. Her hand blindly felt along the counter behind her. Her fingers wrapped around the heavy, cold handle of a paring knife.
She brought her arm up and pressed the sharp steel tip directly against Darrin's stomach, right below his ribs.
"Press harder," Alena choked out, her eyes wide and completely insane. "I swear to God I will push this into your spleen."
Darrin looked down at the blade. The color drained from his face. He ripped his hands away from her and stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet.
Alena sucked in a massive breath of air, coughing violently. She threw the knife onto the floor. It clattered loudly against the tiles.
"Get out!" she screamed, pointing at the door.
Katrina was pale and shaking. She grabbed Darrin's arm and dragged him toward the exit. But right before she stepped out, Katrina stopped.
She turned around, a wicked, triumphant smile spreading across her face.
"Don't want to sign?" Katrina mocked. "That's fine. Dad already took a copy of the NDA to the Hamptons."
Alena froze.
"Let's see if Grandpa's heart, with its three shiny new stents, can handle the news of your little scandal," Katrina whispered.
She slammed the door shut.
The words hit Alena like a bullet to the chest. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the kitchen floor.
