Chapter 2

Eleanor's POV

The next morning, rain fell over New York. Gray sky pressed down like a weight.

I sat propped against the hospital bed, watching raindrops hammer the window. My phone lit up with a text from Nathaniel:

Emergency meeting at the office. Lily's still shaken from last night—I need to make sure she's okay. I'm sending Mark to pick you up. Stop being difficult. Come home tonight, I'm bringing you macarons from Ladurée.

I stared at the message.

I'd nearly drowned in thirty-eight-degree water, and to him, it was just a tantrum fixable with overpriced French cookies.

The door opened. Mark, Nathaniel's personal assistant, walked in with a paper bag, looking uncomfortable.

"Ms. Caldwell, hey—you okay?"

"Still breathing. Disappointing, I know." I didn't look at him.

Mark wiped his forehead and pulled a black card from his pocket, holding it out. "Look, uh, Mr. Hayes said last night got... a little intense. This card's got no limit. He wants you to, you know, hit Fifth Avenue, grab some bags, maybe fly to Paris for a few days..."

I looked at the card.

Classic Nathaniel. Almost killed me, thought he could throw money at it and walk away clean.

Always the one in control. Me, just some accessory he could pacify with his credit card.

"Mark." I met his eyes. "Three years you've worked for Nathaniel, right?"

"Yeah, about that."

"So you know what my gallery nets annually."

I reached out and pinched the card between two fingers.

Mark hesitated. "Around... eight million?"

"Right. So what exactly made him think I need his credit card to buy a damn purse?"

Before Mark could answer, I snapped the card in half.

CRACK.

"Jesus—Ms. Caldwell, you can't just—"

I dropped the pieces into the trash. "Tell Nathaniel to keep his charity. And tell him we're done. He can give those macarons to his precious intern—she's so DELICATE, she probably needs the calories."

Mark stood frozen, mouth hanging open.

The door swung open.

Alexander Sterling walked in with two bodyguards. He filled the room instantly. Didn't even glance at Mark, just strode to my bedside and held out a thick folder.

"Contract's ready. You good to sign?"

I took the pen and signed without hesitation.

"Mr. Sterling, I need to stop by Nathaniel's first. Got things to collect."

He nodded. "Let's go."

---

Thirty minutes later, Alexander's Rolls-Royce pulled up outside the Tribeca penthouse.

I waved off the bodyguards and walked into the apartment I'd spent five years decorating.

Turkish rug—I'd shipped it myself. Throw pillows—embroidered by hand. The paintings—mine.

This place used to hold all our plans. Now it just looked pathetic.

I pulled out two suitcases and packed what was mine. Clothes, documents, sketches. All the jewelry Nathaniel had given me, the watches, that million-dollar engagement ring—I laid them in a neat row on the coffee table.

As I zipped the last suitcase, Nathaniel called.

I hit speaker.

"Eleanor, what the HELL is going on?" Sharp, impatient. "Mark said you destroyed the card? Do you have any idea how hard those are to get? Get back here. Now."

In the background, Lily's voice: "Nathaniel, she's not still mad, is she? Maybe I should, like, call her and apologize..."

"No, Lily, it's fine. She's just being unreasonable."

His voice went soft for her. Then ice-cold. "Eleanor. Listen. Last chance. Apologize to Lily. Come home. End of discussion."

I stared at the phone. Then laughed. Actually laughed.

"Nathaniel." I cut in. "Keys are in the foyer. Ring's on the table. Lose my number."

Silence. Then his voice went sharp. "You wouldn't DARE. Don't forget—I'm bankrolling your Met show next month. You walk out that door, I pull the funding. Good luck filling that hole without me."

There it was.

Money. Resources. Power. He thought controlling my career meant controlling me.

"Go ahead."

"What did you just—"

I hung up.

Opened my contacts. Deleted Nathaniel Hayes.

Grabbed my suitcases and walked out. The rain had stopped.

Alexander leaned against the Rolls-Royce, blue eyes on me.

"All clear?"

"Completely." I breathed in the cold air and felt lighter than I had in years.

Alexander opened the door, mouth quirking. "Get in, fiancée. Now the real fun starts."