His Loss, The Tycoon's Gain: The Lost Heiress Returns

Joaquin paced his destroyed office. The glass ashtray lay in pieces on the carpet.

Julianne sat on the sofa, her makeup ruined from crying. "The golf club suspended my membership!" she wailed.

Ember sat in the corner, dabbing her dry eyes with a tissue. "Joaquin, Kinsley does not have a job. Paying hackers must have drained whatever cash she had left."

Julianne's head snapped up. "The credit card! She still has the platinum sub-card attached to your account!"

Joaquin stopped pacing. A cruel, triumphant smile spread across his face. He thought he finally found the leash to choke her with.

He grabbed his desk phone and dialed the American Express VIP line. "Freeze the sub-card ending in 4102. Immediately."

He hung up and leaned back in his chair. "Let us see how she survives the weekend without my money."

At that exact moment, Kinsley was sitting across from Daxton inside Le Bernardin, Manhattan's most exclusive three-star Michelin restaurant.

Daxton had bought out the entire dining room. A lone violinist played soft jazz in the corner.

She wore a sleek black evening gown. The ruby necklace rested heavily on her chest.

Daxton smoothly cut a piece of A5 Wagyu beef and switched his plate with hers. His eyes watched her every move, dark and hungry.

"Your attack this morning was flawless," Daxton said, taking a sip of wine.

"It was just the appetizer," she replied, meeting his gaze. "I want Stafford Holdings completely liquidated."

Daxton smiled. It was a dangerous, thrilling look. "If you need capital to crush them faster, my checkbook is open."

When the waiter brought the bill, she insisted on paying.

She reached into her clutch and deliberately bypassed her new cards, letting her fingers brush against Joaquin's old platinum sub-card.

She pulled it out and handed it to the waiter, a small, calculated smile playing on her lips. She wanted to see exactly how predictable her ex-husband was.

A minute later, the manager walked over, looking deeply uncomfortable. "Miss, I am so sorry, but this card has been frozen by the primary account holder."

She looked down at the plastic card. Her smile widened into a soft, mocking laugh. "Of course he did," she murmured to herself. The sheer, pathetic predictability of his petty move was entirely expected.

Daxton did not find it funny. His jaw clenched. The air around him turned to ice. He thought she was being humiliated.

He reached for his wallet to throw down his own card.

She placed her hand over his, stopping him.

She reached back into her clutch.

She pulled out the heavy, solid metal Centurion Black Card her father had given her. She held it between her index and middle finger and handed it to the manager.

The manager saw the limitless black metal. He gasped softly, bowed deeply, and took it with both hands.

Daxton stared at the Black Card. The anger vanished from his face, replaced by a slow, deeply amused smirk. He realized she was playing a game on a level Joaquin could not even comprehend.

They walked out of the restaurant into the cool night air.

Daxton took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "Your ex-husband is begging for your attention," he whispered near her ear.

She pulled the jacket tight. She got into the Rolls-Royce and pulled out her phone.

She dialed Ethan's number. "Ethan. Release the kill shot. Send the kidnapping evidence to every network. I want them dead tonight."