I hid in the restroom stall until my phone began to vibrate wildly.

It was the doctor from the underground clinic.

"Miss Donovan, your brother's had a complication. He needs emergency surgery now. You need to pay the fifty-thousand-dollar fee immediately, or we can't operate."

Fifty thousand.

Once, the price of a handbag.

Now, the price of a life.

I burst out of the restroom. Cian was with Scarlett, admiring a custom weapon in a display case.

I rushed to him, grabbing his sleeve.

"Cian, I'm begging you, give me fifty thousand dollars, now! Finn is critical!"

Cian frowned, shaking my hand off as if I were something vile.

"What kind of a scene are you making?"

Scarlett giggled beside him. "Willow, there's a time and place for begging. Cian is picking out a gift for me."

"Cian Rourke, that's a life on the line! It's Finn! He used to worship the ground you walked on!"

Cian's hand froze for a fraction of a second.

Then his expression darkened even further.

"He's a Donovan. What's that to me? The world is better off without Donovans."

He turned back to the dagger, tossing a final, careless remark over his shoulder.

"Payment is for service rendered. You displeased me tonight. No service, no payment."

"What do I have to do? Tell me what I have to do for you to give me the money. I'll do anything."

Cian turned, his gaze dropping to my knees.

"You want my money? Fine. Kneel. And polish my shoes."

His custom leather shoes were spotless.

He was breaking me for sport.

But Finn was lying on an operating table.

I didn't hesitate. I dropped to my knees with a dull thud.

The impact on the hard marble floor sent a jolt of pain up my spine.

The room filled with sharp gasps and stifled sneers.

With trembling hands, I used the hem of my dress to meticulously wipe his shoes until they reflected the club's garish lights.

"They're clean."

I looked up at him, my soul stripped bare.

Cian looked down, a flicker of some unreadable emotion in his eyes before it was stamped out by a wave of fury.

He kicked my hand away.

"Too bad. Now I'm in an even worse mood."

With that, he wrapped his arm around Scarlett and strode away.

He left me on the floor to be devoured by their mockery.

I fled the club, sprinting through the heavy snow toward the clinic.

I rounded a corner and collided with a hard chest.

"Careful."

A pair of strong hands steadied me.

I looked up into a cool, intelligent face, his gold-rimmed glasses giving him an air of refined menace.

But I had no time for him. I tried to push him away.

"Move! I have to save someone!"

The man didn't let go. Instead, he handed me a payment receipt.

"The bill for Finn Donovan's surgery has been settled. You can repay me in installments."

I was stunned, my mind a complete blank.

"Who are you?"

"Julian Blackwood. The Donovan family's 'liquidator,' and the representative for your creditors."

He took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the snow and tears from my face.

"Miss Donovan, your family may be in debt, but there's no need to debase yourself for scum like him."

I stayed at the clinic all night. Finn was stable.

It was noon the next day when I returned to the penthouse.

I was wearing the cashmere coat Julian had lent me, which carried the clean scent of mint and tobacco.

The moment I opened the door, a wall of oppressive silence hit me.

Cian was on the sofa, surrounded by a sea of cigarette butts.

The instant he saw the man's coat on me, he exploded.

He launched himself at me, tore the coat from my shoulders, and ripped it to shreds.

"Willow Donovan, you have some nerve! The moment you crawled out of my sight, you found a new master?"

His eyes were bloodshot, the eyes of a cornered beast.

"Who is he? Julian Blackwood? How long have you been crawling into his bed?"

He grabbed a cigar cutter from the table and sliced the expensive cashmere into ribbons.

"I wasn't! He saved Finn!"

I lunged for the coat; it wasn't mine to let him destroy.

Cian slammed me down onto the coffee table, right onto the shards of the whiskey glass he'd smashed the day before.

Sharp glass bit into my back, and I gasped from the pain.

"Saved Finn? Or are you just addicted to selling yourself? You'd spread your legs for any man to save that half-dead brat, wouldn't you?"

Smack!

With all the strength I had left, I slapped him hard across the face.

Cian's head snapped to the side, a stark red handprint blooming on his cheek.

He slowly turned back, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek, his eyes terrifyingly dark.

"Willow Donovan, you dare hit me?"

I panted, tears of rage and humiliation finally breaking free.

"Cian Rourke, you can insult me all you want, but don't you dare insult Finn! And don't you dare insult the man who helped me!"

It was the first time I had fought back.

That slap shattered the fragile, twisted peace between us.

He suddenly laughed, a low, chilling sound.

"Fine. You want to show me your backbone? Let's see how easily it snaps."