Chapter 6

"You." Chloe's voice was a breathless, terrified whisper.

Johansen did not blink. He stood at the bottom of the marble staircase like a stone statue. The absolute silence in the lobby was deafening.

"Mr. Silva," Chloe choked out. She took another step back. Her spine hit the reception desk with a dull thud.

Johansen stepped closer. He invaded her personal space with a lethal, calculated slowness. "Mrs. Castillo. You are causing a disturbance in my wife's hospital."

Chloe's eyes darted wildly between Johansen and me. The realization hit her like a physical blow. The color drained completely from her face. She looked like she was going to be sick.

"Your wife?" Chloe gasped.

I walked down the stairs. I stopped right beside Johansen. He immediately placed a heavy, protective hand on the small of my back. The gesture was a flawless performance. He looked like the ruthless billionaire who would burn the world down for his bride.

"Alicia Dela Vega," Chloe whispered. Her eyes were wide with sheer panic. "How did you... how did you meet him?"

"That is none of your concern," I said. My voice was ice. "What concerns me is that you are screaming in my lobby."

Chloe tried to rally her usual venom. She opened her mouth to snap at me. Then she looked at Johansen's dead, terrifying eyes. Her courage evaporated instantly.

"I just came to see my husband," Chloe muttered weakly.

"Your husband no longer works here," I replied smoothly. "And you are no longer welcome here."

I turned my attention to the two massive security guards standing nearby.

"Escort this trespasser out," I ordered. "If she resists, throw her onto the pavement. If she ever returns, call the police."

"You cannot do this to me," Chloe hissed. Tears of utter humiliation welled in her eyes. "I am Chloe Castillo!"

"You are nothing," I corrected.

The guards stepped forward. They grabbed Chloe by the arms. She struggled weakly, but they dragged her toward the sliding glass doors. The entire hospital staff watched in silence as the wealthy, arrogant Chloe Castillo was tossed out of the building like common trash.

I watched the doors slide shut. A fierce, triumphant thrill raced through my veins.

---

A glass vase shattered against the wall of the Mayfair townhouse.

"Are you out of your mind?" Reese screamed. He ducked as a heavy silver picture frame flew past his head.

Chloe stood in the center of the living room. Her chest heaved violently. Tears streamed down her face. "You idiot! Do you have any idea who she married?"

Reese ran a shaking hand through his hair. "I do not care who she married! She bought the hospital! She suspended me!"

"She married Johansen Silva!" Chloe shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Reese froze. The anger instantly vanished from his face. A cold, paralyzing dread took its place.

"What did you just say?" Reese whispered.

"Johansen Silva," Chloe repeated. She collapsed onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands. "The billionaire. The man whose fiancée I hit with my car four years ago. The woman you let die on the operating table. Alicia married him."

Reese felt the floor tilt beneath his feet. He stumbled backward and hit the edge of a heavy oak table. He gripped the wood to keep himself upright.

This was not a coincidence. This was a targeted attack. Johansen Silva knew everything. He was using Alicia to destroy them.

"We are going to prison," Chloe sobbed. "He knows. He has to know. Why else would he buy your hospital and marry that pathetic diner waitress?"

Reese's mind raced. Panic threatened to consume him entirely. He thought about the cold, dead look in Alicia's eyes earlier that morning. He thought about the sheer power Johansen Silva wielded in London. They were completely trapped.

Then, a desperate, arrogant thought pierced through his panic.

Alicia.

Alicia Dela Vega had loved him for six years. She had worshipped the ground he walked on. She had sacrificed her own meals just to send him money. A love like that did not just disappear overnight. Johansen was clearly using her as a pawn. But Alicia was weak. She was sentimental.

"Stop crying," Reese snapped. He stood up straight.

Chloe looked up. Her mascara was smeared down her cheeks. "Are you insane? We are ruined!"

"We are not ruined," Reese said. A dark, manipulative smile crept onto his face. "Johansen is using her. But Alicia is still the same naive, pathetic girl she always was. She is only doing this because she is hurt. She is lashing out because I broke her heart."

Chloe stared at him in disbelief. "She threw me out like trash!"

"Because she is jealous of you," Reese insisted. He started pacing the room again. His confidence was rapidly returning. "She wants me. She has always wanted me. If I give her what she wants, she will turn on Johansen. I can control her."

"You cannot control her," Chloe argued. "She has his money now."

"I had her heart for six years," Reese replied smoothly. "I just need to remind her of that. I will get her back. And when I do, I will make her sign that hospital back over to me."

---

I stepped out of the private elevator and into the penthouse.

The adrenaline from the morning was still pumping through my blood. I had faced the two people who destroyed my life. I had watched them cower. I had taken their power and crushed it in my bare hands. I felt invincible.

"Johansen?" I called out.

The penthouse was completely silent. The lights in the main living area were turned off. The only illumination came from a faint glow down the long hallway.

I walked toward the light. It was coming from the study. The door was wide open.

I stepped into the doorway. A bright, triumphant smile was already forming on my lips. I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to talk about the look on Chloe's face when the guards dragged her away.

My smile vanished instantly.

Johansen was sitting in a heavy leather armchair in the center of the room. He was not looking at me. He was staring straight ahead.

A massive, oil-painted portrait hung on the wall above the fireplace. It was a beautiful woman with bright eyes and a gentle smile. She looked full of life.

It was his dead fiancée.

Johansen held a crystal glass of amber liquor in his hand. He did not take a sip. He just stared at the painting. His face was a mask of absolute, paralyzing grief. The ruthless billionaire who had protected me in the lobby was completely gone. He looked like a hollow shell of a man.

"Johansen?" I whispered.

He did not move. He did not blink. He completely ignored my presence.