In that instant, my composure shattered. I lunged forward like a cornered animal, shoving Cassandra aside as I scrambled to retrieve the pieces of the phone.
Cassandra shrieked, collapsing dramatically into Pablo's arms. "Pablo! Juliana pushed me!"
Pablo slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet. "Juliana Thorne, have you lost your mind? Apologize to Cassie right now!"
I ignored him, my hands trembling as I sifted through the shards, desperately searching for the SIM card. Just then, my other phone rang. It was the doctor from the clinic.
His voice was frantic. "Miss Thorne, your mother's condition has suddenly deteriorated! It looks like she was injected with an unknown substance. She needs to be moved, now! Any later and it will be too late!"
"Our people are being blocked at the entrance. You have to handle this!"
Hearing this, my head snapped up. I stared at Pablo, my voice trembling but my spine ramrod straight. "Pablo. Let my mother go."
Pablo glanced at Cassandra's tear-streaked face and sneered. "Now you know how to beg? Kneel."
He pointed to the wine spilled on the floor. "Kneel and wipe it off Cassie's shoes, and I'll think about it."
The room went silent. Senator Warren lit a cigar, watching the show with a glint in his eye. Cassandra nestled into Pablo's embrace, her eyes triumphant and mocking.
The seconds ticked by, each one a lifetime for my mother. And the man I had loved for ten years was using her life to force me to my knees before his new plaything.
I looked at Pablo's face, so familiar and yet suddenly so strange.
Five years ago, on a blizzard night, he was hunted, bleeding from a gunshot wound. I had carried him for two miles through knee-deep snow to a black-market doctor who saved his life.
When he woke up, he held my hand and swore he would rather die than betray me. A man's vow, it turned out, was the cheapest thing in the world.
"Pablo," I whispered his name, "you're going to hell."
With that, I turned and ran.
Pablo's furious roar echoed behind me. "You dare walk out that door? You won't see the sunrise in Veridia City! We'll see who comes to collect that old hag's body!"
I burst out of the hotel and jumped into the first taxi I saw. "Kavanagh Group headquarters! Fast!"
The radio was on, playing an interview with Pablo as the city's "Philanthropist of the Year." The host asked who he was most grateful for.
Pablo's voice was smooth and confident. "I'm grateful for my family's support, and for the woman by my side, who gives me new inspiration every day."
He never mentioned my name. I snapped the radio off, and the tears I had been holding back finally streamed down my face.
When I reached the clinic, they told me my mother had already been moved. I was about to pull out my gun and storm the Ricardo estate when a nurse stopped me. "Miss Thorne? A gentleman named Kavanagh had his people pick up your mother. They left this address."
Kavanagh? Before I could process it, my phone buzzed.
It was a text from Pablo. A photo of him and Cassandra, naked in a hotel bed. The message read: "Come back. Kneel and apologize. I'll pretend this never happened. Don't make me erase you from this city."
