Two nights after I seized the boardroom, flashbulbs exploded around me at the entrance of the Plaza Hotel ballroom.

"Smile for the cameras, darling," Noah murmured, his hand resting firmly on my lower back as we navigated the red carpet. "The entire financial district is dying to see the woman who bought out Preston Enterprises in a single night."

"Let them look," I said, adjusting the thin strap of my emerald silk gown. "I want every board member in this city to know exactly who holds the reins."

"They already know," Noah replied, guiding me past the velvet ropes. "You made the front page of the Wall Street Journal this morning."

We stepped into the cavernous ballroom. The string quartet stopped playing for a split second. Conversations died. Every head turned toward us.

I scanned the crowd and found him instantly.

Liam stood by the ice sculpture, nursing a tumbler of whiskey. His eyes locked onto mine. For a fraction of a second, his lips parted. His gaze swept over my dress, genuine awe flashing across his exhausted face. Then, the reality of his ruined empire crashed down on him. His shoulders hunched, and he stared at the floor, drowning in absolute humiliation.

"Do you want me to have him removed?" Noah asked, tracking my line of sight.

"No," I said. "Let him stay. I want him to watch."

Before Noah could hand me a drink, a figure in a silver sequined dress blocked our path.

Chloe forced a wide, plastic smile. She held two oversized goblets filled to the brim with red wine.

"Emma," Chloe chimed, her voice pitched loud enough for the surrounding investors to hear. "Congratulations on your hostile takeover. I brought you a drink to celebrate your new status."

"I do not drink cheap wine," I said, keeping my hands at my sides.

"Oh, come on," Chloe insisted, taking a large step forward. "Just one toast. To the past."

I watched her right foot hook behind her left ankle. She lunged, throwing her weight toward me, tilting the goblet at my emerald silk dress.

I sidestepped.

Chloe stumbled past me, gasping as her own momentum carried her forward. The wine splashed onto the white tablecloth, missing me entirely.

Before she could regain her balance, I snatched the second goblet from her left hand.

I inverted the glass over her head.

The burgundy liquid soaked her blonde hair, running down her forehead and ruining her flawless makeup. The wine stained her silver dress, turning the fabric into a sticky, ruined mess.

"Oops," I said, handing the empty goblet to a stunned waiter. "My hand slipped."

Chloe shrieked. She clawed at her face, smearing mascara across her cheeks.

"Are you out of your mind?" Chloe screamed, spitting wine onto the marble floor. "Liam! Liam, she is crazy!"

The crowd parted. Liam shoved his way through the circle of onlookers, his face flushed with anger.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Emma?" Liam barked, stepping in front of me. He raised his hand, pointing a rigid finger at my face. "You humiliate me in the office, and now you assault my fiancé in public?"

"She tripped," Noah stated coldly, stepping between Liam and me. He did not raise his hands, but his broad shoulders blocked Liam's path. "Lower your voice, Preston. You are making a scene."

"Stay out of this, Thorne," Liam snapped, trying to look past Noah. "Emma, you are going to apologize to her right now. You do not get to walk into my social circle and assault my fiancé."

"Your social circle?" I asked, stepping around Noah. "You are attending this gala on a pity invite, Liam. You do not even own the suit you are wearing. I do."

Liam's face flushed a deep, ugly red. "I swear to God, Emma—"

I unclasped my evening clutch. I pulled out a folded, notarized document and slapped it against Liam's chest.

"This is the shareholder proxy authorization," I said, tapping the paper against his sternum. "I own you, Liam."

"You cannot control my personal life," Liam fired back, though his voice wavered. "You took the company. That is enough."

"I control everything that bears the Preston name," I corrected him. "And right now, you are dragging my brand through the mud by screaming like a child. If you raise your voice at me again, I will liquidate the remaining Preston subsidiaries tomorrow morning. Thousands of your father's employees will be on the street by noon. Do you want to test me?"

Liam swallowed hard. His raised arm trembled before dropping limply to his side. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just stared at the document, castrated by his own signature.

"Liam, do something!" Chloe wailed, wiping the sticky wine from her eyes.

"Shut up, Chloe," Liam muttered, refusing to look at her.

"Excuse me?" she shrieked.

"I said shut up!" he yelled, turning on his heel and storming toward the exit.

Chloe let out a loud sob and chased after him, leaving a trail of red droplets across the floor.

"Well handled," Noah said, offering me his champagne flute.

"I am just getting warmed up," I said, taking a sip.

Two hours later, the gala wrapped up. Noah had to stay behind to speak with a federal regulator, so I headed down to the VIP underground parking garage alone.

The concrete walls echoed with the hum of ventilation fans. The air felt cool and damp. I walked toward the matte-black Porsche, pressing the unlock button on my keys.

"Mommy!"

The clear, childish shout pierced the quiet garage, echoing off the concrete walls.

I spun around, my hand dropping from the car door.

Standing next to a gray concrete pillar, a four-year-old girl clutched a worn stuffed rabbit. Mia wore a pink tulle dress over her pajamas, her curls bouncing as she tugged on the hand of her nanny, Mrs. Gable.

"Mia," I breathed, rushing over and dropping to my knees on the dusty floor. "What are you doing here? You are supposed to be asleep at the penthouse."

"She insisted on bringing you her rabbit," Mrs. Gable explained, shifting her weight nervously. "She woke up crying. She had a nightmare about the rain and wouldn't go back to sleep until she saw you."

"I told her you needed Mr. Bun-Bun," Mia mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

I wrapped my arms around my daughter, burying my face in her soft hair. The scent of her lavender shampoo grounded me.

"I am right here, sweetie," I whispered, kissing her warm cheek. "Mommy is fine. You didn't need to come all the way down here."

"I wanted to," Mia insisted, hugging my neck tightly.

The ding of the elevator bell echoed across the garage.

The metal doors slid open.

Liam stepped out into the dim lighting, his tie loosened, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder. He took two exhausted steps toward his sedan and stopped dead.

His eyes bypassed me completely.

His gaze locked onto Mia's face.