The Scarred Heiress's Spectacular Comeback

Jerri reached out. Her fingers were inches away from the cold brass of the door handle.

"Emerson is going to destroy you just like he destroyed your reputation seven years ago," Aliyah sneered at Jerri's back, leaning her weight fully against Emerson's chest.

"Get out."

Emerson's voice hit her back like a physical weight. It was low, vibrating like the string of a cello, and packed with lethal intent.

Aliyah's shrill laughter stopped instantly. She looked at Emerson, her eyes wide with shock. "Emerson? What did you say?"

Emerson didn't even look at her. He kept his eyes locked on Jerri's back.

"Get. Out." He repeated the words, and this time, the murderous aura in his voice was impossible to ignore.

Aliyah's face turned paper-white. She scrambled off the sofa, grabbed her purse, and practically ran for the door. As she rushed past Jerri, she violently slammed her shoulder into Jerri's arm.

The impact knocked Jerri off balance. She stumbled sideways.

Before she could catch herself, a massive hand clamped down on her wrist like an iron vice.

Emerson had moved faster than she could process. He yanked her backward with terrifying force.

Jerri fell hard onto the leather sofa. Before she could sit up, Emerson was there. He leaned over her, planting both his hands on the cushions on either side of her head.

He completely trapped her in his shadow. The oppressive heat radiating from his body and the sheer physical presence of his raw male aggression instantly swallowed her whole.

Jerri's heart hammered violently against her ribs, but she tilted her chin up. She stared straight into his dark, furious eyes, refusing to show a single ounce of fear.

"Are you still holding onto some pathetic fantasy about the past?" Emerson hissed through his teeth, his face inches from hers. "Do you still think about the man you used to know?"

He was talking about the foolish, naive girl who used to love him.

Jerri let out a cold, sharp laugh. She didn't flinch.

"You think way too highly of yourself," Jerri spat back, her words coated in venom. "That idiot died seven years ago. The only thing I feel when I look at you now is pure disgust."

The words hit Emerson like a sledgehammer to the chest. The raw agony that flashed in his eyes was so intense it almost spilled over.

But he shoved the pain down, burying it under a mask of explosive rage. He reached out and grabbed her chin, his fingers digging into her jaw, forcing her to look up at him.

"You put on a good show," Emerson mocked, his voice cruel.

He reached over to the table with his free hand and grabbed a glass filled to the brim with straight, top-shelf Russian vodka.

He pressed the rim of the glass against her lips.

"Show me your sincerity," he ordered. "Drink it. Prove to me you're ready to play with the big boys."

Jerri looked down at the clear liquid. She knew exactly what it was. It was pure fire. It was strong enough to burn the lining of her throat.

She didn't hesitate for a microsecond. She reached up, grabbed his wrist, and tilted the glass back.

She swallowed the entire glass of vodka in three massive gulps.

The harsh alcohol ripped down her esophagus, lighting a violent fire in her stomach.

But inside her mouth? On her tongue? She felt absolutely nothing. No burning sting. No bitter taste. Just the sensation of cold liquid washing over dead nerves.

Her destroyed sense of taste had suddenly become her greatest weapon against his cruelty.

She slammed the empty glass upside down onto the crystal table. The sharp clack echoed in the room. She didn't cough. She didn't even blink.

She looked up at Emerson, a mocking smile on her lips. "Is that enough sincerity for you?"

Emerson stared at her. Seeing her swallow straight vodka without changing her expression made his blood run cold. He truly believed she had turned her heart into solid stone.

He slowly let go of her chin. He took a step back, his shoulders dropping as if the energy had been drained from his bones.

Jerri stood up. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her suit jacket.

"See you in court," she said, her voice devoid of any emotion.

She opened the door and walked out, disappearing down the dark hallway without looking back.

The second the heavy door clicked shut behind her, Jerri collapsed against the wall. A blinding, tearing pain ripped through her stomach. She doubled over, clutching her abdomen as cold sweat instantly soaked through the back of her shirt.