Page 190 of The Contract

The sting of that mark is nowhere near enough to pay the blood debt he owes.

Adrian Kingston doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s not going to make it out of this alive.

Still, he’s smug.

Smug because he thinks he’s won.

And maybe he has.

Because while he sits there grinning, Elena is gone.

And I have no one to blame but myself.

Calloway doesn’t waste time.

He plants his hands on the table, his glare locked onto me like I personally set his goddamn house on fire.

“So, what the fuck happened?”

Before I can take a breath to answer, the conference room doors burst open.

It sounds like a cannon firing as Elena strides into the room, sucking the air from my lungs with each step.

Heels clicking on the polished floor, she holds a folder in the crook of her arm, her hazel eyes lit on fire and locked on Calloway.

Behind her, several security guards sprint toward the conference room, followed by the new receptionist who replaced Vanessa.

I hold out my hand, standing. They stop.

She doesn’t even glance at me.

Doesn’t spare me a single fucking look.

Her cheek is bruised, and I see the cut on her lip concealed partially with red lipstick.

My fingers twitch, aching to reach out and caress her. To pull her into my arms.

To get her far the fuck away from Adrian.

I inhale sharply.

“Elena—”

It’s barely a whisper. More like a plea.

But she ignores it.

Because she doesn’t need me to save her.

She’s here to burn down the man who hurt her, and she’s not going to let anyone—even me—get in the way of that.

Her focus is locked on Richard Calloway, her chin high, her expression calm and lethal all at once.

"Before you throw away billions," she says, her voice smooth and even but razor-sharp, "I thought you’d like to know what your nephew’s been up to."

A suffocating silence swallows the room.

Every eye snaps to Adrian.

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