---- Chapter 2 Isiah did not come back to the penthouse. Instead, his revenge began subtly, a series of calculated moves on the chessboard of Wall Street. Gloria sat in her office, listening to Marcus deliver the morning report, a white Doberman resting its head on her lap. She stroked the dog' s sleek head, its ears twitching at the sound of Marcus' s calm voice. "Flynn has initiated a hostile takeover of Chen Industries, one of our key strategic partners in the tech sector." Gloria' s hand paused on the dog' s head "He' s also shorting our position in Bio-Gen, leveraging the information he gained while working here." She remained silent, her gaze fixed on the skyline. "And, Ms. Franco," Marcus continued, his voice hesitant for the first time. "There's one more thing." He paused. "The demolition permits for the east wing of Mount Sinai were approved this morning." ---- The Doberman whined, sensing the sudden tension in her hand. The east wing. The Hope Franco Pediatric Cancer Wing. The wing they had funded in memory of their daughter. Gloria' s grip tightened on the dog's collar, an involuntary spasm of rage. The Doberman yelped in pain. She immediately released her grip, her breath catching in her throat. "Say that again," she said, her voice dangerously quiet "Mr. Flynn used his position on the hospital board to fast- track the demolition," Marcus reported, his face grim. "He's citing structural integrity issues, but it' s a lie." "Why?" The word was barely a whisper. "He' s building a state-of-the-art luxury spa and wellness center. A gift... for Ms. Contreras." A sound escaped Gloria' s lips, something between a gasp and a snarl. She stood up so abruptly that her chair flew back and hit the wall. The Baccarat crystal glass on her desk, filled with water, ---- trembled and then shattered on the marble floor. "Get the car," she said, her voice like ice. The drive to Mount Sinai was a blur. When she arrived, the destruction had already begun. A crane with a wrecking ball was swinging lazily toward the building, taking out chunks of brick and glass. The large bronze plaque that read "The Hope Franco Wing" had been torn from the wall and lay discarded on a pile of rubble. And there, amidst the dust and chaos, was Kiley. She wore a bright yellow hard hat and was directing the workmen with cheerful, expansive gestures. She held a bouquet of pink balloons. Isiah stood nearby, leaning against his Bentley, a fond smile on his face as he watched her. They looked like a happy couple overseeing the construction of their dream home. Gloria' s car screeched to a halt. She got out, walked to the trunk, and opened it. She took out the shotgun she kept for trips to her country estate. She slammed the trunk shut. The sound was like a thunderclap in the noisy construction site. ---- Kiley turned, her smile faltering as she saw Gloria approaching. "Gloria! What a surprise," she chirped, trying to sound casual. Gloria raised the shotgun She didn' t aim at Kiley. She aimed at the balloons. She fired. The explosion echoed off the surrounding buildings. The pink balloons disintegrated into shreds of rubber. Kiley screamed and dove behind a pile of debris. "Are you insane?" Isiah bellowed, rushing forward. Gloria ignored him. She racked the shotgun, the sound sharp and menacing, and fired again into the air. This time, the demolition crew dropped their tools and scrambled for cover. The crane operator froze, his hands in the air. Silence fell over the site. "Everyone who is not Isiah Flynn or Kiley Contreras," Gloria ' s voice rang out, clear and commanding, "has five seconds to leave. After that, | will consider you a target." The workers didn' t need to be told twice. They fled. ---- Kiley peered out from behind the rubble, her face pale. "You' re just a bitter old woman who can't stand to see him happy," she spat. Isiah moved to stand in front of her, shielding her with his body. It was a protective gesture that twisted something deep inside Gloria. "It's over, Gloria," Isiah said, his voice laced with a cruel pity. "We have to move on from the past. Kiley is my future now. She' s giving me a child. A new beginning." He reached back and took Kiley' s hand. "You were always so obsessed with work, with control. Maybe if you hadn' t been, Hope would still be here." The words struck her with the force of a physical blow. "Kiley is pure," he continued, his voice filled with a sickening sincerity. "She' s not tainted by all the... sin that we were. This place... it holds too many bad memories. It' s time to build something new. Something beautiful." Gloria' s hands trembled. For a second, her vision blurred, and she couldn't focus the sight on the shotgun. "Ma' am?" Marcus was at her elbow, his voice a low murmur of concern. She shook her head, pushing him away gently. ---- She lowered the shotgun. She walked past them, toward the rubble where the bronze plaque lay. She bent down, her movements stiff, and ordered two of her men to lift it. "We' re leaving," she said, her voice hoarse. She turned and began walking back to the car, her men following with the heavy plaque. A priest from the hospital' s pastoral care department, Father Michael, who had been there at the wing' s dedication, hurried over. He placed the small, cornerstone box that had been dislodged into her hands. It contained a photo of her and Isiah, and a lock of her own hair. She clutched the box to her chest. The memory of that day was so Clear. Isiah, his arm around her, smiling for the cameras. He had promised her that their daughter' s memory would be a beacon of hope for other sick children. "Wait," Isiah called out behind her. She stopped but didn't turn around. "You can't just take that," he said. "It' s part of the hospital 's history. We can... incorporate it into the new spa design. A tribute." "Yes!" Kiley added eagerly. 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