Zachary Riveron's chest heaved violently, his fingers gripping the armrest so tightly his knuckles turned white.

His face darkened with rage, veins bulging on his forehead.

Zoe Riveron had never seen her father so unhinged.

She hastily poured a glass of water and handed it to him. "Dad, calm down."

Zachary slapped the glass away. "Calm down? Do you know how much I've lost? I've spent ten years cultivating Frederick Vanderbilt's connections!"

Shards of glass scattered across the floor.

Only then did Zoe grasp the gravity of the situation.

Kneeling to clean the mess, she muttered, "It's just a painting—"

"Fool!" Zachary snapped. "That painting represented annual transactions worth half a billion!"

A shard sliced Zoe's finger, blood dripping onto the carpet.

She bit her lip, refusing to whimper.

Zachary panted heavily. "Sophia Laurent must have Ethan Sullivan pulling strings behind the scenes. Give up this ridiculous fantasy!"

Wiping her bleeding hand, Zoe's eyes flashed with defiance.

That man was like opium—the more forbidden, the more addictive.

Three days later.

At the bank counter, Sophia handed a check to the teller.

After transferring funds to Ethan's account, she sent another sum to her mother.

Sunlight stung her eyes as she stepped outside.

Ethan's voice came through the phone, warm as winter sunshine. "I'll accompany you this weekend."

That Saturday morning.

A black Maybach idled at the curb.

Sophia opened the door to find Ethan's stormy expression.

"Who upset Mr. Sullivan?" She fastened her seatbelt.

He scoffed. "A certain ungrateful little liar."

Sophia understood. "About the ten million—"

"Quiet." Ethan jerked the steering wheel. "I don't want to hear it."

His irritation reminded her of a bristling cat.

Hiding a smile, she gazed out the window.

Only when they arrived at a new townhouse did Ethan's mood lift.

Jack's wife greeted them with their baby.

The nursery overflowed with toys, cartoon wallpaper brightening the walls.

"Want to hold him?" Jack's wife offered the swaddled infant.

Sophia accepted the bundle with care.

The baby slept peacefully, lashes like tiny fans.

"His name is Yu," Jack's wife said proudly. "Jack chose it."

Sophia's fingers twitched.

She'd once considered that name too.

The television suddenly displayed her image—a scarlet gown standing out among elderly experts.

"It's Madam!" the housekeeper exclaimed.

Ethan's lips curved. "My wife."

Sophia glared.

Why did he keep forgetting they were divorced?

On the return trip, Eleanor's call came through.

"The baby...is it gone?" The old woman's voice trembled.

Ethan tightened his grip on the wheel. "Grandmother—"

"I saw on TV!" Eleanor wailed. "Sophia's belly—"

A thud echoed through the line.

Ethan slammed the brakes. "Grandmother!"

Silence. Then a heartrending scream: "That monster Victor Sullivan!"