Chapter 2

Amelia's POV

The New York rainy season was damp, cold, and sticky. The briny wind from New York Harbor lashed relentlessly against the floor-to-ceiling windows of our hillside mansion.

I sat alone at the dining table. The Wellington steak on my plate was long cold, the fat congealed.

The candles had burned out, their last embers extinguished by the wind. The dining room plunged into total darkness.

Today marked seven years since Ethan Hayes and I first met.

Seven years ago today, amidst the bloody turf wars of Brooklyn, I took a fatal knife wound for him. A hideous, indelible scar still marred my back.

It was also that day that a penniless Ethan, kneeling in the mud, cradled my bloody face and swore that one day, he'd make me the most respected woman in all of New York.

Now, Hayes Enterprises had expanded its reach to an unimaginable scale. He had become Ethan Hayes, a name whispered with fear in the business world.

And I was his sharpest blade, hidden in the shadows. Amelia, the ruthless force behind Hayes Enterprises.

My phone screen suddenly lit up in the darkness, stinging my eyes.

It was Mark, Ethan's assistant, his voice tinged with guilt. "Amelia... Mr. Hayes might not be able to make it back tonight. There's an issue at the South Precinct, and Mr. Hayes is handling it."

My breath hitched, my heart seized. I hung up the phone, grabbed my car keys, and rushed out into the pouring rain.

In the corridor of the South Precinct, the harsh white fluorescent lights made my head spin.

I strode in on three-inch heels, dressed in a sharply tailored black business suit, trailing icy rainwater.

However, the scene before me shattered all my pride and all my worry.

Ethan sat on a bench in the corridor.

The man who was cold and ruthless at the negotiation table, who never even furrowed a brow, was now taking off his warm, tailored suit. With gentle, almost careful movements, he draped it over a young girl.

The girl wore a faded cotton dress, her blonde hair disheveled, her eyes swollen and red.

She huddled in Ethan's arms, her hands clutching the hem of his shirt as if he were her only hope in the world.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here. No one can touch you."

Ethan's voice was deep and gentle, a tone I hadn't heard in three whole years.

I stood in the shadows a few steps away, watching the scene with cold eyes.

I knew the girl. Her name was Lily Sterling. Ethan had 'rescued' her, a college student, from his enemies three months ago during a corporate turf war.

"Ethan."

I spoke, my voice surprisingly calm, so calm that even I found it unbelievable.

Ethan looked up at the sound of my voice.

The moment he saw me, a flicker of irritation crossed his eyes, but he didn't release his arm from around Lily's shoulder.

"What are you doing here?"

"Have you forgotten what day it is?"

I took a step forward, my gaze falling on Lily's hands, which were desperately gripping Ethan's clothes. The sight was so jarring it felt like it was burning my retina.

"Lily was being tracked by my enemies and almost got hurt. I had to come deal with it." Ethan's tone was matter-of-fact, even carrying a hint of annoyance at being disturbed.

"It's just an anniversary. Tomorrow, I'll have accounting transfer you some money. You can pick out any gift you like."

Lily timidly peeked out from Ethan's embrace, her voice trembling, thick with tears.

"I'm so sorry... it's all my fault. I shouldn't have called Mr. Hayes for help while he was in a meeting, ruining your anniversary..."

"If you knew it would ruin it, why did you call?" My gaze, sharp as a blade, pierced Lily with not a hint of warmth.

"Amelia!"

Ethan's voice suddenly rose, pulling Lily tightly behind him.

His eyes, when he looked at me, were full of reproach and disappointment. "She's just an innocent college student. What does she know of corporate schemes? Don't look at her with that calculating gaze you cast on everyone!"

Innocent? Calculating?

Like a poison-tipped dagger, his words plunged into my heart, twisting cruelly.

Seven years ago, I was also an innocent New York beauty pageant queen, with a promising future.

Who drank herself sick, to the point of a stomach hemorrhage, at a dinner party, just to help him secure his first startup capital?

Who walked alone into a negotiation room in the heart of Brooklyn's underworld to appease his enemies?

All my grit, all the blood on my hands, all the schemes in my mind, were for the sole purpose of keeping him pure and untouched on his throne.

But now, he found me dirty.

My hands, hanging by my sides, slowly clenched. My neatly manicured nails dug deep into my palms, breaking the skin, bringing a sharp pang of pain.

I fought back the coppery taste of blood in my throat, forcing a smile that was both utterly cold and strikingly beautiful.

"Fine. If Mr. Hayes intends to play the hero, I won't intrude."

I turned and walked back into the rain, my spine ramrod straight, without looking back.

The cold rain lashed mercilessly against my face. I closed my eyes, letting the icy water wash over my eyelids.

Seven years of companionship, ultimately no match for the pristine face of a newcomer.

I should have known. Birds and fish, after all, were never meant to cross paths.