Chapter 3

Eleanor's POV

Three days later. The Plaza Hotel.

New York's ultimate power stage, blazing with light.

Nathaniel's tech company was throwing a Series D celebration—also what should've been our five-year anniversary, when we'd planned to announce our wedding. Half of Manhattan's elite had packed into the ballroom. Business moguls, art world players, press vultures.

Word had spread fast: Nathaniel was pulling my Met funding. Trying to make me beg. Everyone was here for blood.

The moment I pushed open the doors, the noise stopped.

Every eye in the room found me. Curious. Judging. Hungry.

I wore black and walked straight through the crowd, heels clicking on marble, heading for the center.

Nathaniel stood with champagne, laughing with a cluster of investors. Lily pressed against his side, wearing the diamond necklace he'd given me last year.

When he saw me, triumph flashed across his face. He lifted his chin. "Well, well. Look who decided to show up. I thought you were gonna hide in that gallery forever."

Scattered laughter rippled through the crowd.

Lily shrank behind Nathaniel, but her voice carried. "Eleanor, come on, don't be mad at Nathaniel. If you really hate having me around, I could just... leave tomorrow..."

"Lily, stop. This isn't your fault." Nathaniel pulled her closer, then looked at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum. "Eleanor, since you're here, do the right thing. Apologize to Lily. What happened at Devil's Island was petty as hell. And the Met funding—show some humility, I might still let you stay on the project."

Whispers started.

"Jesus, just apologize already."

"Why fight money?"

I picked up a glass of red wine from a passing tray and swirled it slowly, watching Nathaniel's face.

Pathetic.

"Apologize?" I tilted my head. "Nathaniel, did all that coding scramble your brain?"

His smile vanished. "Do you know who the hell you're talking to? Without my money, your gallery's DONE. Tomorrow."

"Hmm." I glanced at Lily's necklace, then back at him. "My trash, wearing my trash. You two are perfect together."

Lily's face went white.

I raised the wine glass—held it there for a beat—then smashed it at Nathaniel's feet.

Glass exploded across marble. Red wine splattered his thousand-dollar shoes.

"I'm not here to beg." I looked straight at him. "As of right now, you and I are finished. You, your joke of a company—done. The Met project? You're not WORTHY."

The room erupted in shocked whispers.

No one had expected this. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

Nathaniel's face went purple. Veins bulged at his temples. "FINE. You know what? PERFECT." His voice went sharp and mean. "I'm making an announcement—no institution in this city will TOUCH you. Your career's over. You hear me? OVER." He jabbed a finger toward the corner. "Security! Get this psycho OUT of my event!"

Several guards stepped forward, moving toward me.

Behind Nathaniel, Lily's mouth twitched. Almost smiling.

The guard's hand reached for my arm—

CRASH.

The ballroom doors slammed open.

Two rows of bodyguards flooded in like a black wave, moving with military precision. They grabbed Nathaniel's security, slammed them to the floor, carved a path through the stunned crowd.

Dead silence.

Even breathing sounded too loud.

Alexander Sterling walked in. Didn't look around. Eyes locked on me.

The second Nathaniel saw him, all that arrogance drained from his face.

On Wall Street, Sterling meant untouchable power. The kind of capital that crushed empires. New money like Nathaniel didn't even register. Everyone here knew it.

Alexander crossed straight to me, ignoring the hundreds of eyes tracking him. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders, fingers brushing my arm for just a second.

Then he turned. Looked at Nathaniel.

"My woman." His voice was quiet. Lethal. "And you thought you could put your hands on her?"

Nathaniel's mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Alexander stared at his fear-frozen face and smiled. Cold. Sharp.

"Don't wait for tomorrow, Nathaniel." He paused, let it sink in. "Your company dies tonight."

"What—wait, WHAT? Why would you—what is she to you?"

Alexander glanced down at me. One heartbeat. Then his voice cut through the silent room.

"She's my fiancée. My ONLY fiancée."