Chapter 321

Ethan Roscente loosened his tie, the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts.

"She has no one in Hong Kong." He crushed the last ember between his fingers, the glow flickering. "Except Sebastian Valdemar."

Zachary Evans' phone vibrated abruptly.

"Mr. Roscente!" His brow smoothed as he ended the call. "The airline confirmed—Ms. Lowell purchased a ticket back to New York. Departure in ten minutes."

"With whom?"

"Sebastian Valdemar."

Ice crystallized in Ethan's eyes as he spun his phone. Thirty-seven unanswered calls swallowed by silence.

Crack!

The latest smartphone shattered against the wall.

"Useless." He tore open two shirt buttons, veins pulsing along his collarbone. "I wasn't there when she needed me most. Now I can't even locate her."

Zachary bent to collect the debris. "Perhaps she's boarding—"

"Failure." Ethan's laugh was razor-edged, eyes bloodshot. "I'm a goddamn failure."

Wind hurled dead leaves against the car window.

"The Zhuangs." He yanked the door open, moonlight glinting off the steel frame. "I'll make them beg for death."

Tires screeched.

Watching the taillights vanish, Zachary dialed Legal. "Prepare the Zhuang Group's bankruptcy filings." He glanced at the churning sky. "Storm's coming."

Vivian Ashcroft woke to a phone slamming into her face.

10:07 PM.

"Airport pickup!" She bolted upright, knocking over pill bottles. White tablets scattered as her calico cat fled into the closet.

Her phone buzzed three times on the vanity before the automated voice announced, "The subscriber is unavailable." Midway through squeezing foundation, she suddenly opened WeChat.

"Viv..." Sophia's voice trembled in the audio message. "I think... I killed someone..."

The sunscreen tube burst in her grip, white cream splattering her silk nightgown.

The elevator doors parted to reveal Jason Roscente whistling, breakfast soup leaking through the container in his arms.

"Attempted murder?" He dabbed at his stained shirt before noticing Vivian's red-rimmed eyes.

"Sophia's in Hong Kong—" Her nails bit into her palms. "Something terrible happened!"

As the doors slid shut, Jason jammed his arm through the sensor.

"Give me sixty seconds." He peeled off the soaked shirt. "I'm driving."