The Jilted Ex-Wife's Lethal Comeback

The rain had started to fall over Manhattan, a cold, steady drizzle that slicked the asphalt and reflected the neon lights of the city.

Audrey pushed through the glass doors of the 17th Precinct. The cold air hit her face, washing away the last lingering scent of the cheap perfume.

She stood at the top of the concrete steps. Her eyes scanned the street like a sniper acquiring a target.

There it was.

Parked illegally in the VIP loading zone was Kingston's signature vehicle: a massive, armored black Rolls-Royce Phantom.

Kingston was standing by the open rear door, his head bent as he listened to his lead attorney. Celestine was already sliding into the plush leather backseat, looking like a queen who had just won a war.

Audrey thought of her brother sitting in a holding cell. She thought of the ocean water filling her lungs five years ago.

Something inside her-the last remaining thread of restraint-snapped.

She walked down the steps, her pace steady and terrifyingly calm. She crossed the street to where her rented, heavy-duty black Range Rover SUV was parked.

She opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat.

She didn't turn on the headlights. She sat in the dark cabin, her hands gripping the leather steering wheel. She stared through the rain-streaked windshield at the side profile of the Rolls-Royce.

The driver of the Phantom started the engine. The luxurious car pulled slowly away from the curb, angling its massive body to merge into the main avenue.

Audrey took a deep breath. The air hissed through her teeth.

She shifted the gear into Drive.

She slammed her stiletto heel down on the gas pedal, pinning it to the floorboards.

The Range Rover's supercharged engine let out a deafening roar. The heavy tires spun for a fraction of a second on the wet asphalt before catching traction. The SUV launched out of its parking spot like a two-ton missile.

Inside the Rolls-Royce, the driver glanced in his side mirror. His eyes widened in sheer terror as a blacked-out SUV hurtled toward them out of the dark.

"Boss, brace-!" the driver screamed.

Kingston looked up from his phone.

CRASH.

The sound of the impact was apocalyptic.

The heavy steel grill of the Range Rover T-boned the Rolls-Royce directly on the rear passenger door. The kinetic energy of the crash was so massive it lifted the armored Phantom off its right wheels.

The Rolls-Royce was shoved violently sideways across the wet street. It slammed over the curb and crashed into a fire hydrant.

The metal pipe sheared off. A geyser of high-pressure white water exploded thirty feet into the air, raining down on the wreckage like a monsoon.

Inside the Range Rover, the airbags deployed with a violent punch. The world exploded in a concussive blast as the airbag slammed into her face, the force throwing her head back against the seat. A sharp pain lanced through her forehead, likely from the impact with the airbag's rough fabric. A warm trickle of blood ran down her temple. Her ears rang with a high-pitched whine.

She sat back against the seat. And then, she started to laugh.

It was a dark, breathless, feral laugh.

Across the street, the Rolls-Royce was a mangled mess of steel and shattered bulletproof glass. Celestine was screaming hysterically from the backseat.

The rear door of the Phantom was kicked open from the inside.

Kingston stepped out into the pouring rain and the spray of the fire hydrant. He was bleeding from a cut on his cheekline. His bespoke suit was ruined.

But his eyes were pure, unadulterated murder.

Savage Corporation bodyguards poured out of a trailing SUV, drawing their firearms and sprinting toward the Range Rover, surrounding it in seconds.

Kingston ignored them. He marched straight toward the Range Rover, his boots splashing through the flooded street.

He reached the driver's side door. The window was shattered.

Kingston reached his large hand through the broken glass. He grabbed Audrey by the collar of her trench coat. With a terrifying display of brute strength, he ripped the door open and dragged her out of the driver's seat, hauling her into the rain.

He pinned her against the side of her wrecked SUV.

The streetlights illuminated her face. The rain washed away the heavy eyeliner.

Kingston recognized her instantly. It was the "bimbo" from the lobby.

"Are you looking for a death wish?" Kingston snarled, his hand wrapping around her throat, squeezing just enough to restrict her air.

Audrey didn't flinch. She didn't beg.

She looked up into his murderous eyes. The blood from her forehead mixed with the rain, dripping down her pale cheek.

She smiled. A cold, aristocratic, utterly fearless smile.

When she spoke, the trashy accent was gone. Her voice was smooth, icy, and perfectly modulated.

"Did you like the gift, President Savage?"

Kingston froze.

The voice.

It wasn't the voice of a streetwalker. It was a voice of absolute authority. And beneath the coldness... there was a cadence, a rhythm that struck the deepest, most buried nerve in his brain.

His grip on her throat loosened slightly. He stared at her face, the rain plastering her dark hair to her cheeks. The cognitive dissonance was tearing his mind apart.

Celestine limped over, shielded by a bodyguard's umbrella. She pointed a shaking finger at Audrey.

"It's her! She's a psycho!" Celestine shrieked. "Kingston, have the police arrest her for attempted murder right now!"

Audrey slowly turned her head. She looked at Celestine with a gaze so heavy with violent intent that Celestine physically took a step back, hiding behind the guard.

Kingston looked at the woman pinned against the car. She had just tried to kill him, yet she was looking at his fiancé like she was the predator.

A twisted, dark sense of fascination and rage coiled in his gut. He wasn't going to hand her over to the police. He needed to know who this woman was, and why she felt so impossibly familiar.

Kingston dropped his hand from her throat. He grabbed her by the bicep.

"Cancel the police," Kingston barked at his head of security.

Without another word, he threw Audrey over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He ignored her kicks and carried her toward his backup armored SUV.