Everyone said I was born a jinx.

When my adoptive parents kicked me out, I had nothing but the clothes on my back.

It was Liam who took me in, giving me a home and wrapping me in his warmth.

He married me, fought his wealthy family for me, and promised I would never cry again.

For three years, I devoted myself entirely to him and his demanding mother.

When I finally got pregnant, I thought our happily-ever-after was complete.

I rushed to his office with the ultrasound, my hands shaking with pure joy.

But the door was ajar, and I heard Chloe's unmistakable giggle.

"When will you kick her out?" Chloe purred, sitting on his lap.

"Soon," Liam's cold voice replied. "She pushed my mother down the stairs. She deserves to rot."

"I know," Liam added, kissing her neck. "Tell security to throw her into the rain."

***

I shoved the oak door open, the plastic pregnancy test slick in my sweaty palm.

My husband, Liam Preston, sat behind his mahogany desk, but he wasn't alone. Chloe Davis had her arms wrapped around his neck, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

"Liam," I said, my hand trembling.

Chloe turned her head, her lips curving into a vicious, mocking smile. She didn't bother moving away from my husband. Instead, she pressed herself closer to his chest, tracing a manicured fingernail down his lapel.

"Emma," Chloe sneered, her voice echoing in the large office. "The unloved one is the real mistress. Don't you feel disgusted occupying a position that was never yours?"

I stared at Liam, waiting for him to push her away, to say something, to defend me. He just watched me with those cold, indifferent gray eyes.

"Get away from him," I demanded, my voice rising.

"Why should I?" Chloe laughed. "He called me here. He needs a woman who actually understands him, not a maid who just knows how to scrub floors."

"I am his wife," I said. "I spent three years caring for this family, including your mother. You do not get to stand here and call me a maid."

Chloe pouted, looking up at Liam. "Do you hear how she speaks to me, baby?"

"Enough, Emma," Liam warned, his tone sharp. "Don't embarrass yourself further."

I ignored his warning. My flats hit the carpet as I marched toward the desk. My hands shook so hard the plastic stick clicked against my ring. I reached out and grabbed Liam's wrist. His skin was warm, familiar, yet alien.

"Liam," I shouted, my voice cracking under the weight of my desperation. "I'm pregnant!"

I held the test toward his face. Two pink lines. The proof of the family I thought we were finally building.

He glanced at my fingers clutching his sleeve, his jaw tightening into a line. He yanked his arm away, shoving my hand off with brutal force. He didn't even spare a single glance at the test.

"Abort it," he said.

His voice was ice, flat and devoid of any human warmth.

"What?" I whispered, stumbling back a step. The word struck me physically, knocking the wind from my lungs. "Liam, this is our baby. We tried for this."

"You tried for this," Liam corrected, adjusting his suit jacket. "I told you I wanted a divorce last week. A child doesn't change my mind."

Chloe gave a mock gasp. "A baby? How inconvenient. I can send you the number of a discreet clinic."

"Shut your mouth!" I screamed at her, tears finally spilling over my lashes.

I turned back to my husband. "Are you out of your mind? This is your flesh and blood! How can you just sit there and let her talk to me like that?"

"Chloe is right," Liam replied calmly. "You need to handle this problem quickly. I will write you a check for the medical expenses."

"I don't want your money!" I slammed my hands on the desk. "I am not killing my child. I am your wife, and I am not leaving until you explain this to me. How can you be so heartless?"

Liam stood up, towering over the desk. He pointed a rigid finger toward the exit. "Shut the door and get out."

"No!"

He leaned across the mahogany surface, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "The murderer who pushed my mother down the stairs doesn't deserve to have my child."

The accusation hit me harder than his demand for an abortion.

"I didn't push her!" I cried out. "How many times do I have to tell you? She tripped on the rug! I tried to catch her! I reached out to save her!"

"Save your lies," Liam snapped. "The security footage showed you standing at the top of the stairs while she fell. You paralyzed her, Emma."

"Because I was in shock! I didn't touch her!"

"Security," Liam said, pressing a button on his intercom. He didn't break eye contact with me. "Remove my wife from the premises. If she resists, use force."

"Liam, please!" I begged, the anger draining out of me, replaced by pure terror. "Don't do this. We can talk about this. The baby..."

"Take her away," he ordered.

Two burly guards entered seconds later. They grabbed my upper arms, their grips like steel vises.

"Take your hands off me!" I kicked, twisting against them, but it was useless. "Liam! Look at me!"

He turned his back, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Chloe waved at me, blowing a sarcastic kiss as the guards dragged me backward.

They dragged me through the silent lobby and shoved me outside. I hit the concrete on my knees just as the sky opened. Rain soaked my blouse and hair before I could stand, washing blood from my scraped skin into the gutter.

"Liam!" I screamed at the towering glass building.

Only the thunder answered me.

I clutched the pregnancy test to my chest. I had to get away. I had to protect my baby.

I ran without choosing a direction, driven only by the need to get away and protect my baby.

I dashed into the intersection.

The blare of a horn pierced the roar of the storm.

I turned my head. Twin headlights flared in the darkness, rushing straight at me. A black SUV hydroplaned on the slick road, the tires screeching loudly.

I froze. There was no time to jump. No time to scream.

Metal slammed into my hip.

The impact threw me onto the wet asphalt. My head struck hard enough to flash white behind my eyes, and the air vanished from my lungs.

I lay there, the freezing rain pounding against my face.

A sharp, agonizing pain ripped through my lower abdomen. It felt like a knife twisting inside my stomach.

I groaned, trying to push myself up, but my arms gave out. Warm liquid pooled beneath me, mixing with the icy puddles on the road.

I forced my eyes open, looking down.

Red. So much red.

Blood spread outward from my body, a halo washing away into the storm drains.

"No," I choked out, a sob tearing at my throat.

The luxury car screeched to a halt a few yards away. The engine idled loudly.

I curled inward, ignoring the agony in my shattered hip. I wrapped both arms protectively over my stomach, curling into a tight ball on the flooded street.

"My baby," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rain. "My baby... please..."

The driver's door of the SUV swung open. Footsteps splashed against the pavement, growing louder, closer.

A pair of polished leather shoes stepped into my line of sight, stopping right at the edge of my expanding pool of blood.

I tilted my head up, squinting through the blinding glare of the headlights, and saw a silver cane adorned with a carved wolf's head tap against the asphalt.

"Fifty million dollars in debt, and he still expects a bailout."

I tossed the glossy financial report onto the glass table. The binder landed with a loud thud, echoing through the penthouse suite of the Grand Plaza.

Five years after my blood washed down a storm drain, I sat on the opposite side of a silk privacy screen. The embroidered fabric separated my private office from the guest entrance.

I traced the jagged white scar running up my left wrist. The ghost of the pain lingered, a permanent reminder of the rain, the tires, and the terror of nearly losing my baby. Noah Thorne had stepped out of his SUV that night. He didn't just rush me to the hospital. He paid my medical bills, mentored me, and handed me the keys to his venture capital firm.

Now, I held the executioner's axe over the man who threw me away.

"The guests are at the door," my assistant whispered through the earpiece.

"Send them in," I said.

The double doors swung open.

Through the translucent silk of the screen, two figures stepped into the suite. Liam Preston walked in first. He wore a tailored charcoal suit, but the fabric hung loosely on his frame. His shoulders sagged. The arrogant posture he carried five years ago had evaporated.

Chloe clung to his right arm. She wore a tight red dress, her face painted with flawless makeup, yet her eyes darted nervously around the opulent room.

"Step forward," I commanded, pressing the silver button on the desk console.

The voice changer distorted my tone into a deep, mechanical rasp.

Liam flinched at the sound. He stopped a few feet from the screen and lowered his head. He bowed. The proud, ruthless Liam Preston actually bent at the waist.

"Thank you for granting us this meeting," Liam said, his voice hoarse. "Preston Enterprises is on the brink. Your capital injection is our only lifeline."

My fingernails dug into my palms. The sting grounded me.

"We are incredibly grateful," Chloe chimed in, forcing a sweet, melodic tone. "My fiancé has worked tirelessly. We just need a little help to get over this hurdle. We know your firm only backs winners."

"I did not ask you to speak," I said through the modulator.

Chloe snapped her mouth shut. Her silhouette stiffened behind the silk.

"Your financial reports are garbage, Mr. Preston," I said, leaning closer to the microphone. "You mismanaged three major acquisitions. Your board is ready to oust you. Your stock plummeted forty percent this quarter. Why should I throw fifty million dollars into a sinking ship?"

Liam gripped his briefcase with both hands. "Because the core technology is sound. We just need runway to launch the new software."

"Runway?" I scoffed, the voice changer making it sound like grinding metal. "You need a miracle. You fired your lead developer last month. Your competitors are eating your market share. You are bleeding cash."

"Give me six months," Liam pleaded, stepping closer to the barrier. "I will double your return. I swear it."

"Promises from a desperate man mean nothing."

"I will do whatever it takes," Liam insisted. "Any terms you want. Extra equity, board seats, a complete restructuring of the executive team. Just name your price."

I smiled without warmth.

"Whatever it takes?" I repeated.

"Yes."

I tapped my manicured fingers against the mahogany desk.

"I will sign the fifty million dollar check today," I said. "On one condition."

"Name it," Liam answered instantly.

"If you want me to keep investing, Liam dates me for one night."

Silence slammed into the room.

Chloe's shadow jerked violently. She grabbed Liam's bicep, her voice shrill. "What kind of sick joke is this? Liam, tell her no!"

I watched them through the embroidered cranes on the silk.

"It is not a joke," I said. "One night. Alone. You belong to me until sunrise. Do that, and the fifty million hits your account by morning."

"You are disgusting!" Chloe shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at the screen. "We are getting married next month! He is not some escort you can just buy!"

"Everything has a price," I said smoothly. "And right now, Liam's price is exactly fifty million dollars."

"Let's go," Chloe demanded, tugging at his arm. "We will find the money somewhere else. We don't need this freak."

Liam did not move.

His feet remained planted on the carpet. His head stayed lowered.

"Liam?" Chloe asked, her voice cracking. "Move. We are leaving."

"Chloe..." Liam muttered, the sound barely escaping his throat.

"Are you crazy?" She yanked his sleeve harder. "She wants to sleep with you! Tell her to go to hell!"

"If I walk out that door, the bank seizes everything tomorrow at eight in the morning," Liam whispered, staring at the floor. "My family loses the estate. Hundreds of employees lose their jobs."

"I don't care about the company!" Chloe screamed. "I care about us! Tell her no!"

"I have to save the company," Liam said, his voice flat. "My father built this empire. I will not be the one who lets it crumble."

"So you will sell yourself instead?" Chloe shrieked.

"It is just one night," Liam rationalized, turning to face her. "One night to secure our entire future."

"Our future?" Chloe scoffed. "If you stay in this room, there is no us. The wedding is off."

"Don't do this, Chloe. Be reasonable."

"Reasonable? You are agreeing to sleep with a stranger!"

I leaned back in my leather chair, watching the exchange. Five years ago, Liam tossed his pregnant wife to the curb for this woman. Now, he was ready to toss her aside for a check.

"Time is running out, Mr. Preston," I interrupted. "Do we have a deal, or should I call security to escort you out?"

Liam swallowed hard. The muscles in his jaw flexed. He looked at Chloe, then turned his gaze back to the silk screen.

"Will you put the agreement in writing?" Liam asked me.

Chloe gasped. She stumbled backward, dropping his arm as if his skin burned her.

"You piece of trash," Chloe spat.

She slapped him across the face. The smack echoed through the suite.

Liam didn't flinch. He just stood there, wearing the red mark on his cheek.

"Fine! Sell yourself!" Chloe yelled.

She spun around on her heels, sprinting for the exit. The doors slammed shut behind her, rattling the walls.

Liam stood alone in the center of the room. The silence stretched, and suffocating.

I picked up the black plastic rectangle resting beside the microphone. I flicked my wrist, sliding the room keycard under the bottom gap of the screen.

It glided across the polished marble floor and stopped dead against the toe of his leather shoe.

The electronic lock beeped, followed by the click of the suite door swinging open.

"I am here." Liam's voice sounded hollow, stripped of its usual arrogance. "I brought the keycard. Let's get this over with."

I stood facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at the city lights. The crimson silk of my robe clung to my skin, a stark contrast to the darkness of the room.

"Fifty million dollars," Liam said behind me. "You promised the transfer by morning. Chloe threw her engagement ring at me and walked out. Tell me what you want so we can finish this."

I didn't turn around yet.

"You always were impatient," I said. My natural voice, free of the modulator, echoed in the quiet suite.

The footsteps stopped instantly.

"Who are you?" Liam demanded, his tone sharpening. "That is not the voice from the speaker."

I pivoted on my bare feet.

"Long time no see, my ex-husband."

The color left Liam's face. He stumbled backward until his shoulders hit the wall.

"Emma?" he choked out.

"Surprised?" I asked, taking a step toward him.

He pressed his palms flat against the wood behind him, as if trying to push himself through the wall. "No. No, this is a trick. You disappeared after the crash on Fourth Avenue. The police found blood and no trace of you. They told us you were presumed dead."

"And when the court declared me legally dead, you signed the paperwork and moved on," I said. "You never pushed for another search. You were too busy building a future with Chloe."

"You're dead," he whispered. "I have not slept in three days. I am hallucinating."

"I assure you, I am very much flesh and bone." I closed the distance between us, stopping just inches from his trembling frame. "Touch me, Liam. See if I fade away."

He shrank back, refusing to lift his arms. "You set this up. The financial ruin. The meeting today. The fifty million. You orchestrated all of it."

"Are you afraid I'll get revenge?" I asked, keeping my tone light, almost conversational. "Why so scared, Liam? You were so brave five years ago when you ordered your guards to throw your pregnant wife into a thunderstorm."

He couldn't form a coherent sentence. His chest heaved. Sweat beaded on his forehead, catching the dim light of the bedside lamp.

"I didn't know the car would hit you," he stammered, his voice cracking. "I just wanted you out of the office. I didn't want you dead."

"You told me to abort our child," I reminded him. "You left our baby to die on that asphalt. The child you called a mistake survived despite you, not because of you."

"My mother was paralyzed!" he shouted, a flash of desperation breaking through his fear. "What was I supposed to think?"

"You were supposed to believe your wife," I fired back. "But you chose the word of a woman who just wanted your money. And now, look at you. Begging a stranger for cash to save your precious empire."

I raised my hands and clapped twice. The sound sliced through the silence.

The bathroom door opened, and Noah Thorne stepped out in a white robe, his hair still wet.

Liam's eyes darted from me to the billionaire. "Thorne? What is this?"

Noah came to my side and kissed my temple. "Is he boring you yet?"

"A little," I said.

Liam stared at the two of us, his mind visibly fracturing. "You are with Noah Thorne? The man who has been shorting my stock for six months? The man who bought out my suppliers?"

"The very same," I said. "But he is more than just your biggest competitor."

I leaned closer to Noah, letting my fingers trace the lapel of his robe.

"Remember the crash you mentioned?" I asked Liam. "The one that left me bleeding in the rain while you were busy choosing your mistress over your wife?"

Liam swallowed hard. His gaze dropped to my waist, then back up to my face.

"Noah was driving the SUV," I stated.

Liam's knees buckled slightly. He caught himself, sliding down the wall an inch before locking his legs. "His car hit you?"

"He saved me," I corrected, my grip tightening on Noah's robe. "He paid for my surgeries. He gave me a new identity. And then, he gave me the capital to systematically dismantle Preston Enterprises piece by piece."

"You destroyed my father's legacy," Liam snarled, a sudden surge of anger replacing his shock. He pushed himself off the wall, taking a threatening step forward. "You manipulated the supply chain. You bought out my board!"

Noah moved instantly. He stepped in front of me, shielding my body with his own. He didn't raise his voice, but the menace in his posture stopped Liam dead in his tracks.

"Take another step toward Emma and you will answer to me," Noah warned.

Liam froze. His fists clenched at his sides, but he didn't dare challenge the larger man.

"You destroyed it yourself," Noah continued, his tone laced with disgust. "We just handed you the rope. You were too stupid to realize you were tying the noose."

I stepped around Noah, walking over to the glass nightstand. I picked up a stack of papers bound in black leather.

"There is no fifty million dollar bailout, Liam," I said. "There never was."

"You breached the verbal contract!" he shouted, pointing a shaking finger at me. "I agreed to your terms! I showed up!"

"Sue me," I said.

I hurled the document at his chest. The stack of papers smacked against his sternum and fell to the floor, sliding open to reveal the bold print on the first page.

"That is a full divestment agreement," I explained, watching him stare down at the pages. "It strips you of your voting rights, your equity, and your title as CEO. You sign over every last share of Preston Enterprises to me."

"I will never sign that," Liam spat. "I will find another investor. I will go to the banks."

"By morning, your creditors will move on the accounts and the board will learn the company is insolvent," I said. "The doctored earnings reports are already headed toward an SEC referral."

Liam's mouth opened, but no sound came out. The fight drained out of him, leaving a hollow, defeated shell of a man.

"Sign it," I said. "Or face tomorrow without a bailout."