Zero Assets: Divorcing The Cruel Billionaire

The lights in the VIP hospital room had been dimmed to a soft, warm glow. The faint, sterile smell of antiseptic hung in the air.

Erna slowly fluttered her eyes open. A dull, throbbing pain radiated from her forehead, making her suck in a sharp breath through her teeth.

She turned her head against the pillow. Cary was sitting in a single armchair near the window, holding a cup of black coffee.

His bottomless dark eyes were locked onto her face. There was a heavy, intense emotion swirling in them that she couldn't decipher.

Seeing her wake up, Cary set the coffee cup down. He stood up and walked to the edge of the bed, his large frame blocking out most of the light from the window.

He raised his hand, his long fingers moving toward the purple bruises on her neck. But he stopped, his hand hovering just an inch above her skin, his jaw clenching tight.

He pulled his hand back. "How do you feel?" he asked, using his usual cold, restrained tone of a guardian.

Erna pushed herself up against the headboard, wincing slightly. "Thank you for getting me out of there tonight, Cary."

Cary's brow furrowed slightly. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, a subtle physical reaction to the polite distance in her voice.

He pulled a chair closer and sat down. "That divorce agreement you drafted is incredibly stupid. Walking away with nothing is a fool's move."

"I don't want his money," Erna said quietly.

"As an old friend of your mother, Cassandra, and as your legal guardian, I will not sit back and watch you be bullied," Cary stated.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope stamped with gold foil. He held it out to her. "This is the activation paperwork for a massive trust fund the Warren family set up for you."

Erna looked at the envelope but didn't move her hands.

"Sign it," Cary urged, his voice dropping an octave. "You can leave New York tonight. Go to Europe. Start over anywhere you want. I will use my firm to ensure Apollo Cherry pays a devastating legal price for what he did to you."

It was an offer that would guarantee her a life of absolute luxury and safety.

But Erna just looked at him. Her eyes were startlingly clear, stripped of any naivety.

"I am grateful for the protection the Warren family has given me," Erna said, her voice steady. "But I am done being an accessory to someone else's power."

She looked down at her hands. "Three years with the Cherry family taught me one thing. Power and wealth that are handed to you can be snatched away just as easily."

She looked back up at Cary. "I am not taking the trust fund. I am staying in New York. I'm going back to Columbia to finish my degree. I will build my own ground to stand on."

Cary stared at her stubborn face. A flash of deep admiration crossed his eyes, immediately swallowed by a dark, restless frustration that he couldn't completely control her.

He rubbed his thumb over his platinum cufflink, a dark, possessive storm brewing in his eyes before he forcefully swallowed it down, his rigid posture masking an intense urge to lock her away from the world.

"The capital circles in New York are filthy," Cary warned, his voice turning icy. "An orphan with no backing will be chewed up and spit out."

Erna smiled faintly. "Because I've seen the filthiest parts, I know I have to be the one holding the knife."

The room fell into a suffocating silence for a full minute. It was a silent war of wills.

Finally, Cary exhaled. He put the envelope back into his jacket. "Fine. But you will accept the security detail I assign to you. That is non-negotiable."

Erna knew this was the absolute limit of his compromise. She nodded slowly.

Cary stood up. His shadow fell over her once more.

He looked at her for a long moment. "Call me if you need anything."

He turned and walked to the door. When Cary pulled the door open, he stopped.

Standing in the hallway, sweating profusely and arguing with the bodyguards, was Jax Koda-one of Manhattan's notorious playboys. He was clutching a piece of paper in his shaking hand.