Chapter 8
The hotel penthouse was silent.
Hayden sat on the edge of the massive king-sized bed, wearing a thick white hotel bathrobe. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a small, worn velvet box.
She opened it.
Resting on the black satin was a vintage butterfly brooch. The silver wings were bent at a grotesque angle. Several of the small diamonds were missing.
Hayden traced the ruined metal with her index finger. The sharp edge of the broken wing pricked her skin.
Her mind violently pulled her back to the charity gala, two weeks ago.
Flashback.
The hallway outside the ballroom restrooms had been empty. Hayden had been walking back to the party when Bridget Blake stepped out of the shadows, blocking her path. Two massive bodyguards flanked Bridget.
"You look ridiculous in that dress," Bridget had sneered, sipping her champagne. "Like a stray dog wearing a diamond collar."
Hayden had tried to walk past her. One of the bodyguards shoved her hard in the shoulder.
Hayden stumbled. Her clutch slipped from her hands, hitting the marble floor. The clasp popped open. Lipstick, a compact, and the velvet box spilled out.
The box bounced, and the butterfly brooch slid across the floor, stopping at Bridget's feet.
Bridget looked down. A cruel smile stretched across her red lips. She lifted her foot and brought the stiletto heel of her Louboutin directly down on the silver butterfly.
The sickening crunch of metal echoed in the hallway.
Hayden's vision went entirely red. That brooch was the only thing she had left of her mother. It was the only tether to her life before the trauma that erased her childhood memories.
A primal scream tore from Hayden's throat. She lunged forward, her hand swinging in a wide arc.
Smack.
Her palm connected with Bridget's cheek with explosive force. Bridget shrieked, throwing herself backward onto the floor, bursting into dramatic tears.
Footsteps pounded down the hall. August pushed through the gathering crowd.
He saw Bridget on the floor, crying. He saw Hayden standing over her, chest heaving.
August didn't ask what happened. He grabbed Hayden by the shoulders and shoved her backward. Her spine hit the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of her.
"Are you insane?" August yelled, shielding Bridget with his body.
Hayden pointed a shaking finger at the crushed metal on the floor. "She broke it! She broke my mother's-"
"It's a cheap piece of junk!" August roared, cutting her off. He looked at her with pure, unadulterated disgust. "You attacked her over a piece of trash because you're jealous? Apologize to her right now, or get out."
The crowd of billionaires whispered, their eyes full of pity and scorn.
Hayden looked at August. The man she loved had just chosen a liar over her soul. The coldness started in her toes and rushed up to her heart, freezing it solid.
She knelt down, picked up the broken butterfly, and squeezed it in her fist until the metal cut her palm. She stood up, looked August dead in the eye, and whispered, "I choose the latter."
End of flashback.
Hayden blinked, pulling herself back to the quiet hotel room. A single, cold tear tracked down her cheek. She wiped it away aggressively.
She placed the broken brooch back into the box. She closed the lid. The sadness was gone. Only a cold, hard rage remained. She was going to burn their world to the ground.
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