The police cruisers' red and blue strobe lights turned the ruined estate into a chaotic, flashing nightmare. The screech of tires on the wet gravel was deafening.
Deanna sat slumped in the mud, the freezing rain beating down on her face. She stared blankly at the dark bushes where Erik had disappeared. Inside job. Sold out. Trust no one. The words echoed in her skull, louder than the sirens.
Four heavily armed Seaport City police officers jumped out of their cruisers. They swept the ruins with tactical flashlights, the bright beams cutting through the rain. One of the beams hit Deanna's pale, mud-streaked face.
"Over here! We found her!" an officer shouted.
Seconds later, a massive, black, bulletproof SUV tore into the driveway, stopping inches from the police cars. The rear door flew open before the vehicle even fully stopped.
Joseph Cole stepped out, surrounded by three men in black suits holding umbrellas.
Joseph saw Deanna sitting in the mud near the cliff edge. His face instantly contorted into a mask of absolute panic and heartbreak. "Deanna!" he yelled, his voice cracking with emotion as he shoved past the police officers.
The cops, recognizing the wealthy, powerful man who had filed the missing person report, stepped back and lowered their flashlights.
Joseph sprinted through the mud. He dropped to his knees right in front of Deanna, ruining his bespoke suit pants. He reached out, throwing his arms wide, intending to pull her into a desperate, loving embrace.
A few hours ago, Deanna would have collapsed into his chest and wept.
But now, Erik's warning burned in her veins like battery acid. Trust no one. Especially the people closest to you.
As Joseph's hands brushed the wet fabric of her sleeves, Deanna's entire body violently recoiled. She threw herself backward, her hands scraping against the sharp rocks, treating his touch like a lit match against her skin.
Joseph's arms froze in mid-air. A flash of genuine shock crossed his face, quickly masked by deep concern. "Deanna? Honey, it's me. Are you hurt? What happened?"
Deanna slowly raised her head. She looked at Joseph. Really looked at him. She bypassed the handsome face and the worried eyes, searching for the rot underneath.
She thought about Candy flaunting the trust fund money. She thought about her parents dying in a highly convenient fire. She thought about the hospital board leaking her coordinates to terrorists.
A wave of pure, physical revulsion hit her stomach. Deanna turned her head to the side and dry-heaved, her body rejecting his presence.
Joseph's jaw tightened. He dropped his hands and leaned in closer, his voice losing its soft edge, replaced by a hard, commanding tone. "We are leaving. I'm taking you back to the Cole estate. You need a doctor."
Back to the Cole estate? To sleep under the same roof as his mistress and his five-year-old bastard?
Deanna pushed herself up off the ground. Her legs shook, but she locked her knees, standing tall. She looked down at him kneeling in the mud.
"I will never step foot in that house again," Deanna said. Her voice was no longer a broken whisper. It was cold, raspy, and dead.
Joseph stood up, brushing the mud off his knees. He glanced nervously at the cops watching them. He stepped close to her, lowering his voice to a threatening hiss. "Do not make a scene in front of the police, Deanna. Think of the family's reputation."
Deanna's lips curled into a grotesque, mocking smile. She turned her back on him and limped directly toward the lead police officer.
"Officer," Deanna said, her voice steady. "I want a car to take me to a hotel in the city center. Now."
The officer looked uncomfortable. He glanced over Deanna's shoulder at Joseph. In the eyes of the law, Joseph was the powerful citizen paying the bills, even if the marriage was technically dissolved.
Joseph realized he was losing control of the narrative. To maintain his image as the devoted, grieving ex-husband, he let out a loud, dramatic sigh of defeat. He nodded at the officer. "It's fine. She's in shock. I will personally escort her to the hotel to ensure she's safe."
Deanna didn't argue. She needed a roof over her head, and she had no money. She walked straight to the black bulletproof SUV, pulled open the heavy door, and slid into the far corner of the leather backseat.
Joseph climbed in after her. He tapped the glass partition, signaling the driver. The SUV pulled away, heading toward the city. As soon as they were moving, Joseph pressed a button, and the thick, soundproof privacy partition rolled up, sealing them in the back.
The silence inside the cabin was suffocating.
Joseph reached into the center console and poured a cup of hot black tea from a thermos. He held it out to her, his eyes pleading. "Drink this. You're freezing."
Deanna didn't look at the cup. She kept her eyes locked on the rain streaking across the tinted window.
Joseph's patience snapped. He slammed the cup into the cup holder. "You are being completely unreasonable, Deanna! You have no idea what I've been through! The pressure from Wall Street, the grief of losing you-"
Deanna slowly turned her head. She looked at him with the detached curiosity of a scientist observing a rat in a maze.
"My parents..." Deanna interrupted, her voice trembling, fracturing under the weight of her grief and suspicion. She clutched her arms tighter around herself, rocking slightly. "Their money... the trust fund... what did you do with it, Joseph? Where did it all go when they burned?"
The question was a sniper bullet.
Joseph's hand, which was reaching for his tie, jerked violently. His elbow hit the cup of hot tea. The cup tipped over, spilling scalding liquid across the expensive leather seat.
Joseph scrambled to wipe up the tea with his handkerchief, his face flushed red. He refused to look her in the eye. "That's... that's a complicated financial matter. The lawyers handled it after the fire. We can talk about money when you're healthy."
Deanna watched his trembling hands. The final piece of the puzzle locked into place. He didn't just cheat. He stole everything.
Deanna closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold glass, refusing to speak another word. The SUV sped through the storm, carrying two enemies trapped in a steel box.
