The shock on Arron's face lasted for exactly three seconds. Then, the reality of being publicly discarded by the woman who had worshipped him for six years set in. His face turned a dark, violent purple.
He was used to Corrine begging. He could not compute this cold, towering version of her.
"You don't get to do this!" Arron roared. He lunged forward, his hand shooting out to grab her shoulder, intending to drag her out of the doorway.
Corrine was ready. Her eyes flashed. She grabbed the edge of the heavy walnut door and shoved it outward with all her body weight.
The thick wood slammed directly into Arron's outstretched arm.
Arron yelled in pain. He yanked his arm back, stumbling away. The door bounced and closed halfway, the heavy thud echoing in the hall.
Corrine stood behind the narrow opening. She looked at him like he was toxic waste.
"Touch me again, and I call security," she warned, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
Elma shrieked softly and hid behind Arron. She gripped his suit jacket tightly. "Arron, you're hurt!" she cried, playing the perfect, fragile dependent.
The act fed Arron's bruised ego. He patted Elma's hand, but his eyes glared at Corrine through the crack in the door.
"You think spreading your legs for some old money makes you untouchable?" Arron spat, his face twisted in ugly malice. "When he gets bored and throws you out, you'll be worse than a stray dog. Don't come crawling back to me."
Corrine felt nothing. No pain, no sadness. Just a profound sense of absurdity that she had ever loved this pathetic creature.
She leaned slightly closer to the gap in the door. She kept her voice perfectly level.
"I can't wait to see how loud you bark when the Mayer family loses absolutely everything," she stated.
The prophecy hit Arron's deepest fear. His pupils dilated in panic. "What the hell do you know-"
Corrine didn't let him finish. She threw her weight against the door.
SLAM.
The heavy walnut door shut completely. The electronic deadbolt engaged with a loud, final click. The red light flashed on the lock panel. The physical barrier was absolute.
The hallway outside went dead silent for a second. Then, Arron lost his mind.
He raised his foot and kicked the door violently. Bang! Bang! He screamed curses, trying to beat down the wood with pure, impotent rage.
"Arron, stop! You'll get us arrested!" Elma begged, pulling at his jacket.
Down the hall, the elevator doors chimed open. Two massive hotel security guards stepped out. Their faces were carved from stone. They walked straight toward the noise.
"Sir," the lead guard said, his voice a low, professional threat. "Step away from the Penthouse. If you do not leave immediately, we will call the police and notify the Mayer family."
The words "Mayer family" acted like a bucket of ice water. Arron froze. If Cassius found out he was causing a scene here, he was dead.
He glared at the closed door one last time. He yanked his jacket straight, trying to salvage his dignity. He shook Elma off his arm and stormed toward the elevators, looking exactly like a beaten dog.
Elma stumbled, shot a venomous look at the door, and ran after him in her high heels.
Inside the suite, Corrine leaned her back against the heavy wood. She listened to the footsteps fade away.
Her tense muscles finally gave out. She slid down the door until she hit the cold marble floor. The chill grounded her. She had survived the first night.
She reached into her robe pocket and pulled out the broken gold chain. The cold metal pressed into her palm, giving her a massive surge of security.
Corrine looked out at the empty, luxurious living room. The fire of ambition ignited in her chest. The game was just starting.
She stood up, walked to the minibar, and poured two fingers of neat bourbon. She threw it back. The alcohol burned down her throat, cementing her resolve to conquer Cassius Mayer.
