Chapter 3

Adrian York.

The real crown prince of the capital's inner circle. Head of the York financial empire, with its fingers in the arteries of the global economy.

Hudson Calloway might have commanded respect in this city, but in front of Adrian York, even he had to bow his head and say "Mr. York" like everyone else.

Half an hour later, I was back at the downtown penthouse I'd shared with Hudson for five years.

The moment I pushed the door open, a familiar cool fragrance drifted over me.

Traces of our life together were everywhere. Matching slippers at the entrance. The antique oil painting he'd paid a fortune for at auction because I loved it. And in the dressing room, rows of couture gowns he'd had custom-made from all over the world, all cut to my exact measurements.

He'd once covered my eyes and pressed a set of keys into my palm — keys to this apartment worth thirty million dollars — and said with all the tenderness in the world: "Sophia, this is the cage I built just for you. Don't even think about flying away."

I used to believe that was the deepest kind of love.

Now I understood it for what it was. A leash.

I pulled out a black rolling suitcase and started packing.

I only took my own documents, a few outfits I actually wore, and the belongings my parents had left me.

Everything Hudson had bought me — the jewelry, the bags, the clothes — I didn't touch a single piece.

Halfway through packing, the digital lock on the front door beeped.

Hudson's assistant, Liam, walked in. His face went pale the moment he saw the suitcase on the floor.

"Miss Sutton — what are you doing? Mr. Calloway just went to check on Miss White at the hospital. Please don't act out over this."

"Act out?" I set down what I was holding and looked at him. "Liam, you've worked for Hudson for years. Can't you tell? I'm leaving."

Liam blinked. Then a helpless, pained smile crossed his face. "Miss Sutton, please don't joke like that. Everyone in this city knows how much Mr. Calloway loves you. Today was genuinely unexpected. Miss White has severe depression — she had a piece of broken glass in her hand. He didn't have a choice—"

"Didn't have a choice?" I cut him off. My voice held no warmth at all. "He had a choice to lock down an airport. He had a choice to abandon me in front of the entire city's media. He had every choice in the world except the one that mattered — keeping his word to me."

I shoved the last piece of clothing into the suitcase and zipped it shut.

"Miss Sutton!" Liam panicked and stepped in front of me. "Mr. Calloway said to ask you to wait at home. He'll be back soon. If you just leave like this, I don't know how I'm going to explain it to him."

"That's your problem, not mine."

I pushed past him and wheeled the suitcase toward the door.

Right then, Liam's phone rang. Hudson.

Liam answered fast and hit speakerphone.

"Liam, is Sophia home? Tell her I'll be there soon. Tell her not to look at the news online — I'm handling it." Hudson's voice was tired, but underneath the exhaustion was the same unshakeable certainty he always carried.

"Mr. Calloway..." Liam shot me a glance. His voice came out shaky. "Miss Sutton is — she's packing to leave."

Two seconds of dead silence on the other end.

Then Hudson laughed. Cold and short.

"Sophia, what is this now? I already explained everything. Evelyn's life was at stake. You're completely fine — why do you have to make this into something with a sick person?" His voice shifted, turning sharp. "Do you have any idea what the media is printing about me right now? You pull a stunt like this and what — you think I'm going to come crawling to you?"

His self-righteous anger hit like a sledgehammer, knocking loose the very last piece of whatever I'd still been holding onto.

Seven years. He'd always been exactly like this.

The moment Evelyn cried, the fault was always mine.

"Hudson." I spoke toward the phone. My voice was so calm it surprised even me. "I'm done. You don't need to come crawling anywhere."

"What is that supposed to mean?" His tone dropped, edged with cold fury.

"Exactly what it sounds like. We're finished."

"Sophia!" Hudson's voice exploded through the speaker. "Don't push your luck! You think walking out that door means you'll find someone better than me? I'm telling you right now — if you take one step out of this apartment, I don't care if you get on your knees and beg me later. I will never look at you again."

"Fine."

I said it quietly. Then I took the phone right out of Liam's hand and smashed it against the wall.

The screen shattered. Hudson's shouting stopped cold.

I slipped the apartment key off my keyring, then pulled the plain band off my finger — the one I'd worn for seven years. I set them both on the console table by the door.

"Liam, please tell Mr. Calloway something for me. I don't do recycling. Especially not garbage."

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and walked out the door without looking back, leaving behind the apartment that had kept me caged for five years.

Downstairs, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom sat waiting at the curb.

The window came down. Adrian York's profile appeared — clean, sharp, almost carved.

His dark eyes found mine. A faint, unreadable smile curved his mouth.

"Didn't waste any time, did you, Mrs. York."

I walked over, handed my suitcase to his bodyguard, and got in.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. York."

Adrian turned his head. His gaze dropped to my bare ring finger. Something shifted behind his eyes.

Then he leaned toward me — slow, unhurried — until his presence surrounded me completely, warm and overwhelming.

My breath caught. Every muscle in my body pulled taut.

But he didn't do anything else. He simply reached across and pulled my seatbelt over, clicking it into place.

"Sophia." His voice was low, rough at the edges, somewhere between a warning and a promise. "You got in my car. There's no getting out."