The Jilted Heiress And Her Possessive Guardian

Ardella did not hesitate. She flicked her wrist and threw the entire glass of iced martini directly into Braden's face.

The freezing liquid and the green olives hit him right on the bridge of his nose. The alcohol dripped down his chin and soaked into his expensive, unbuttoned shirt.

Someone in the back of the room gasped. No one moved. They all stared in shock.

Braden jumped up from the sofa. He wiped the stinging alcohol from his eyes. His face turned bright red with rage, and he raised his hand high, ready to strike her.

Ardella did not step back. She stepped forward. She tilted her chin up, and her eyes turned into two shards of black ice.

Braden's hand froze in the air. The sheer violence in her stare terrified him. He slowly lowered his arm, his chest heaving.

Ardella reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. She turned the screen toward Braden and hit play.

The high-definition video started. Braden's voice filled the quiet room, clearly stating his disgust for the Coffey family merger and his plans to cheat.

Braden's face went from red to a sickly, pale white. He lunged forward, trying to snatch the phone from her hand.

Ardella easily stepped to the side. She let out a dry laugh and told him that ten copies were already backed up to the cloud.

She leaned in closer. She lowered her voice so only he could hear. She whispered the exact dollar amount TMZ would pay for this video.

Braden ground his teeth together. He asked her how much money she wanted to keep her mouth shut.

Ardella looked at him with pure disgust. She told him she did not want a single cent of his family's dirty money.

She gave him her only condition. Braden had to go to the press himself. He had to announce the end of the engagement and take full public responsibility for the breakup.

Braden shook his head frantically. He said his father would break his legs if he was the one to ruin the merger.

Ardella shrugged her shoulders. She tapped her screen, pretending to open an email draft to a senior reporter at the Wall Street Journal.

Braden broke. He grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin. He begged her to give him a few days to figure something out.

Ardella ripped her arm away from him. She pulled a sanitizing wipe from her bag and slowly wiped the skin where he had touched her.

She gave him her final ultimatum. He had exactly seventy-two hours to clean up his mess, or she would ruin him.

She dropped the used wipe directly into the ice bucket on the table. She turned around and walked toward the door.

As she passed Scarlett, Ardella kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, not sparing the actress a single glance. The adrenaline in her veins was still pumping hot and fast. It was far too dangerous to acknowledge her in a room full of hostile witnesses; one wrong look could unravel the entire trap she had just sprung. She pushed through the heavy brass doors, leaving the suffocating heat of the VIP room behind.

Once she stepped out into the quiet corridor, the tension in her shoulders dropped a fraction. She felt a brief, sharp vibration in her coat pocket. Pulling out her secondary phone, she shielded the screen with her palm and saw a text from an encrypted number: "Job done. Awaiting payment. -S." Ardella's lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile. She deleted the message instantly, watching the letters vanish into the digital void. The final payment for Scarlett's acting services would be wired by morning.

Ardella walked down the hallway with the confident stride of a winner.

She only made it a few steps before her muscles locked up. Coming around the corner of the hallway was a group of men.

Leading them was Ethelbert Stone.

His personal assistant, Leo, was walking slightly ahead, whispering something into Ethelbert's ear.

There was nowhere to hide. Ardella forced her legs to keep moving. She stared straight ahead, trying to pretend she did not see him.

As the distance between them closed, the scent hit her. It was his custom cologne. A heavy, dark mix of oud and cedarwood.

The smell bypassed her brain and went straight to her nervous system. Her knees went weak. Her stomach dropped.

The hallway was narrow. They were about to pass each other, and the air between them grew so thick she could barely breathe.