The harsh blue light from the phone screen illuminated Cassie's cold eyes. The name "Jamey" pulsed on the screen.
Her thumb slammed down on the red reject button. The buzzing stopped.
A second later, the phone chimed. A text message popped up.
Meet me at the Rockefeller Center Hotel. Top floor banquet hall. Tonight.
A dark, humorless laugh ripped from Cassie's throat.
She lifted her head and looked straight at Dane. She turned the phone around, holding the glowing screen up so he could read the message clearly. She didn't try to hide anything.
Dane's eyes scanned the text.
The crystal glass in his hand creaked under the sudden, crushing pressure of his grip. The air in the study grew heavy with suffocating hostility. Dane's eyes turned pitch black.
"You are going to see your ex-lover?" Dane asked. His voice was dangerously low, vibrating with raw, possessive fury.
Cassie nodded, her expression flat.
"It's the perfect opportunity to cut the rot out completely." Her eyes burned with cold, calculated need for revenge.
Dane stared at her for a long moment. The muscle in his jaw feathered.
"I need a car. And I need your bodyguards," Cassie demanded. She didn't ask.
The corner of Dane's mouth curled into a sharp, lethal smirk.
He reached across the desk and slammed his finger down on the intercom button.
"Adrian," Dane barked into the speaker. "Prepare a motorcade. Give her whatever she wants. And have our surveillance team monitor every camera at the hotel. If there is even a hint of a threat, notify me immediately."
Cassie's heart gave a hard thump against her ribs. The unquestioning support caught her off guard.
Dane released the button and looked back at her.
"If you are not back by midnight, I will come drag you out myself." The threat was heavy and entirely serious.
Cassie gave a sharp nod.
She turned on her heel and marched out of the study. Her heels struck the hardwood with a rapid, militant rhythm. Dane's gaze burned into her back until the door clicked shut.
Cassie walked straight down to the underground garage.
The massive space was lined with millions of dollars worth of exotic cars. She ignored them all and walked toward a sleek black Porsche Panamera.
Adrian stepped out from the shadows. He handed her the heavy key fob and pointed toward two massive black Range Rovers parked near the exit. Four men in black tactical suits stood beside them.
Cassie snatched the keys. "Follow me."
She pulled the Porsche door open and dropped into the low driver's seat. She hit the ignition. The engine roared to life, bouncing off the concrete walls.
Cassie slammed her foot on the gas. The Porsche shot out of the garage.
The two Range Rovers fell into line behind her, forming a dark, intimidating convoy as they sped toward the heart of Manhattan.
City lights blurred past the windshield. Cassie gripped the leather steering wheel, knuckles white. Her mind raced, calculating exactly how she was going to tear Jamey's ego to shreds.
The convoy pulled up to the grand entrance of the Rockefeller Center Hotel.
Cassie threw the car into park and tossed the keys to the stunned valet. She stepped out, her torn dress blowing in the wind. The bodyguards immediately flanked her, radiating violence.
She walked through the revolving glass doors. The opulent gold and marble lobby felt suffocating.
The lobby manager took one look at the heavily armed men behind her and rushed over, using his master key card to call the VIP elevator.
Cassie stepped in. The doors slid shut. The rapid ascent made her stomach drop.
The doors dinged open on the top floor.
The soft sounds of a string quartet and loud chatter spilled into the hallway.
Cassie walked down the plush carpeted corridor and stopped in front of the massive double doors leading into the banquet hall.
A huge, glossy poster was displayed on an easel next to the door. A heavily retouched picture of Jamey and Kailee from their engagement shoot, both smiling brightly. The words "Engagement Celebration" were printed in elegant gold script. A desperate facade—a last-ditch effort to project stability before news of the Gilmore collapse went public.
Cassie's eyes narrowed. The text message was a trap. A public execution designed to humiliate her.
She raised her hand and signaled for the bodyguards to stay in the hallway.
Cassie placed both hands on the heavy brass handles and shoved the doors open.
The blinding light of crystal chandeliers hit her face.
She stepped into the room.
The chatter near the door died instantly. The silence spread through the massive room. The string quartet fumbled and stopped playing.
Hundreds of eyes turned to look at her. They stared at the angry red scars on her face. They stared at the dirt and dried blood on her torn designer dress.
The silence broke. Loud, cruel whispers and muffled laughter filled the room.
Jamey stepped out from the crowd. He wore a pristine white tuxedo and held a crystal flute of champagne. A smug, victorious smile stretched across his face. He was handsome in a polished, calculated way—blond hair slicked back, jaw too sharp, eyes that never quite matched his smile.
He walked up to her, looking down his nose as if she were a piece of trash.
"Cassie. I didn't think you'd actually show up," Jamey said loudly, ensuring the whole room could hear.
Kailee pushed through the crowd, wearing a glittering evening gown. Layers of thick foundation struggled to mask the swelling along her jawline, and a high diamond choker hid the marks on her neck. She wrapped her arms possessively around Jamey's bicep.
"Everyone!" Kailee shouted, her voice shrill and strained. "This is my poor, sick sister! The one from the mental hospital!"
The room erupted into loud, mocking laughter.
Cassie stood perfectly still. Spine straight as a steel rod. Her eyes swept over the laughing faces, cold and detached. They looked like a room full of clowns.
"Now, Kailee, don't upset her," Jamey said, dripping with fake concern. "We know how unstable she gets."
Cassie's stomach churned with pure revulsion.
She slowly turned her head. A waiter stood frozen nearby, holding a silver tray of drinks.
Cassie reached out and picked up a heavy crystal glass filled with dark red wine. She held it by the stem, her fingers perfectly steady.
