HE DUMPED WINE ON HIS EX-FIANCÉE AT HIS BILLION-DOLLAR WEDDING—UNTIL THE WORLD'S DEADLIEST BILLIONAIRE WHISPERED THREE WORDS THAT DESTROYED HIS DYNASTY!

The rain returned to Manhattan late that evening, washing over the limestone steps of the Metropolitan Museum as the gala wound down.

Ava stood on the covered veranda, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air, momentarily stepping away from the endless stream of foreign diplomats and venture capitalists vying for a moment of her time. Dominic was inside, finalizing the acquisition paperwork for the last remaining Vance holding company.

A sudden rustle near the service entrance caught Ava’s attention.

"Ava!" a desperate, broken voice hissed from the shadows behind the towering granite columns. "Ava, please! Just five minutes!"

Ava turned slowly. Standing behind the velvet security ropes, drenched in the freezing rain, was Ethan Cole.

He was unrecognizable.

The man who had stood so tall in his Tom Ford tuxedo three weeks ago now wore a soaked, rumpled trench coat with frayed cuffs. His hair was matted to his skull, his eyes hollow, wild with sleep deprivation, and a heavy stubble darkened his gaunt cheeks.

"Ethan," Ava said calmly, her voice showing neither hatred nor pity. Just total indifference.

"Ava, thank God," Ethan sobbed, stumbling forward before two private security guards instantly intercepted him, pinning his arms behind his back. "Let me go! That’s my fiancée! Ava, tell them to let me go!"

"She is not your fiancée, Ethan," Ava said, motioning for the guards to release their hold, but to remain close. "What do you want?"

Ethan fell to his knees on the wet stone, splashing muddy water over his trousers. He looked up at her, trembling violently, staring at the diamond-encrusted silver gown that outshone anything he had ever seen.

"I made a mistake, Ava," Ethan cried, his hands clasped in front of him like a beggar. "Julian Vance forced me! He threatened to destroy my career if I didn't marry Chloe! I never loved her! I swear to God, I only loved you! Every night I was with her, I thought of you!"

Ava listened, her expression unreadable.

"Look at what they’ve done to me!" Ethan begged, tears mingling with the rain on his face. "The bank took my car! They foreclosed on my apartment! I’m staying in a homeless shelter in the Bowery, Ava! The tech community won't even hire me as an intern! I don't have money to eat!"

"You had money when you threw my mother's rosary onto the floor," Ava reminded him quietly.

"I was stupid! I was arrogant! But we built this together, Ava!" Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered, water-damaged notebook. "Look! It’s the original scratchpad from our first apartment! The formulas we wrote together! We can restart! We can make Bennett-Cole Dynamics! Just tell Moretti to drop the civil lawsuits! Tell him to give me back ten percent of my company!"

Ava walked forward, her heels clicking rhythmically against the stone, until she stood directly over the man who had discarded her like garbage.

She looked down at the notebook. Then, she looked into Ethan’s desperate, scheming eyes.

"Do you know what the difference between you and me is, Ethan?" Ava asked softly.

Ethan shook his head frantically.

"When I was starving in that basement, I worked three jobs because I believed in you," Ava said, her voice dropping into an icy, unwavering conviction. "When you had nothing, I gave you my soul. But when you got a taste of power, the first thing you did was use it to crush the person who built you."

She took the wet notebook from his shaking hands.

"You didn't come here tonight because you regret hurting me," Ava said. "You came here because you regret losing. You don't miss me, Ethan. You miss my talent. You miss my brain. And you miss the wealth that belonged to me all along."

Ava opened the notebook, tore out the pages containing her proprietary algorithms, and tossed the empty leather cover back into the puddle at his feet.