Chapter 3 - The Eviction
I pushed Ethan away, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"You're crazy," I said, my voice shaking.
"I haven't danced in twelve years, I'm no threat to billionaires."
Ethan looked around frantically to make sure no one was listening.
"Twelve years ago, you were about to sign a contract with Vance's biggest competitor," Ethan explained rapidly.
"Your face was going to be on a franchise of luxury dance academies that would have bankrupted Julian."
"The crash wasn't an accident."
"It was a targeted hit, and my father helped cover it up."
The marble floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
My entire life, my ruined leg, my shattered dreams.
It was all just a business transaction to them.
"Why are you telling me this?" I demanded.
"Because Julian and my father are launching a joint venture next month," Ethan replied.
"To finalize the deal, they are hosting an underground, high-stakes ballroom tournament for the global elite."
"The winner takes control of the entire Ashford estate."
"I need a partner, Claire."
"I need you."
I looked at the desperate plea in the eyes of a billionaire's son.
"I am done being a pawn for rich men," I spat.
I turned on my heel and walked out of the glass doors into the freezing Chicago rain.
I walked for two miles, the damp cold seeping into the aching joints of my bad leg.
When I finally reached my rundown apartment building, my heart stopped.
All my meager belongings were piled in wet cardboard boxes on the sidewalk.
The landlord stood on the porch looking deeply ashamed.
"I'm sorry, Claire," he muttered, avoiding my gaze.
"A man in a suit came by an hour ago and bought the whole building in cash."
"He said you had to be out tonight, or he'd call immigration on the families on the second floor."
Walter Ashford was making good on his promise.
I was homeless, entirely alone, and freezing.
A black Mercedes pulled up to the curb, its headlights blinding me in the rain.
The back door swung open.
Inside sat Vivian Ashford, wearing a plush fur coat and holding a glass of champagne.
"Walter is so clumsy with his threats," she purred, gesturing to my ruined boxes.
"Get in the car, Claire."
May you like
"I have a proposition that will make you very rich."
"Or it will make you very dead."
