Chapter 5: First Blood

Three days later, thirty minutes before the opening bell on Wall Street, Rosier Holdings' stock price lit up like dry kindling soaked in gasoline.

Ava had used only one move: she took the Rosier family’s prime beachfront land in Florida—an asset that had sat dormant for twenty years—and mortgaged it to JPMorgan under the guise of "internal restructuring." In exchange, she secured a $3 billion low-interest loan. She then immediately dumped that capital into a biopharmaceutical company teetering on bankruptcy.

That company just happened to hold the patent for a new pulmonary fibrosis drug in FDA Phase 3 trials. It was the only drug that could save her mother, Nora.

The market smelled blood. Retail investors went into a frenzy; institutions swept in. Rosier Holdings skyrocketed 27% in three days, its market cap returning to the hundred-billion-dollar club overnight.

Ava sat on the bench outside the VIP ward, wearing a black high-necked sweater that covered her chin. The only thing she couldn't hide was the faint darkness under her eyes. She stared at the dancing K-lines on her phone, a smile cold enough to freeze bone curling her lips.

Summer sat beside her, voice trembling with excitement. "Tang-Tang (Ava), are you crazy? That land is the family’s last safety net. If your dad finds out..."

"He already knows." Ava’s voice was detached. "At 2:00 AM last night, Alexander called. His first sentence was screaming 'You mongrel bitch, you dare touch the Rosier ancestry?' His second was threatening to freeze all my accounts."

"But the third sentence never came out," Ava continued. "Because I’d already sent the recording to the chief reporter at the Wall Street Journal."

Ten minutes later, the headline hit the trending topics: [Rosier Patriarch Suspected of Insider Trading; Illegitimate Daughter Mortgages Ancestral Land to Save Mother, Stock Soars 27%]

Public opinion exploded. Alexander faced a boardroom coup. Victoria was flamed so hard on social media she deleted her accounts.

Ava turned off her phone and looked through the glass door of the ward.

Nora lay inside. Pale, but the ventilator data was finally stable. She gave a thumbs-up through the oxygen mask, her eyes crinkling into crescents.

Ava’s eyes reddened instantly. The moment was shattered by her phone vibrating.

Unknown number.

She picked up. A lazy voice, raspy with post-coital satisfaction. "Congratulations, Little Rose. 27% in three days. Crazier than I expected."

Landon.

Ava’s spine stiffened. The unhealed tear between her legs felt as though an invisible hand were ripping it open again. She instinctively clamped her legs together, her voice ice: "Mr. Voss, I told you not to call."

"But I really wanted to hear," he chuckled, the low roar of an engine in the background—he was driving, "if you’re wet right now? Do you get wet just hearing my voice?"

Ava’s breath hitched. Her ears filled with his hot panting from that day against the glass. She gritted her teeth. "You’re sick."

"I am," he admitted cheerfully. "Sick enough to want to f*ck you again. Right now."

Ava stood up abruptly. Summer jumped. "Ava?"

She ignored her, hanging up. A second later, a location pin arrived: [St. Luke's Hospital, Underground Parking Level 3, Pillar B17. My car. Ten minutes.]

Ava stared at the message, fingertips white.

She knew she shouldn't go. But her body was more honest than her brain. She turned and walked toward the elevator, steps fast, like she was fleeing for her life.

Underground Level 3. The AC was blasting; the lights were dim yellow. Landon’s car was a matte black Maybach G900, the license plate a single letter: "V". The window rolled down. He reclined in the driver's seat, a cigarette between his fingers, shirt collar wide open, the bite mark she left on his collarbone still visible.

Seeing her, he smirked. "Get in."

Ava said nothing. She opened the passenger door. As soon as it closed, the world went silent, leaving only their tangled breathing.

Landon stubbed out the cigarette. He reached over, his palm sliding directly onto her inner thigh, gliding up over the wool skirt.

"Open." His voice was gravel.

Ava clenched her jaw, but the moment his fingers brushed the edge of her panties, her body betrayed her, legs trembling apart.

Landon laughed softly, hooking a finger under the thin fabric and diving straight in. Wet heat instantly enveloped his finger. He tutted. "Only three days, and you're this hungry?"

Ava wanted to curse him, but as his knobby finger found that spot with precision, a short whimper escaped her throat.

Landon reclined the seat, leaning over her, teeth biting her earlobe. "Scream for me. I like hearing it."

Ava bit her lip until it bled, her hands uncontrollably gripping his shirt, nails digging into the skin of his neck. Landon cursed low, tearing open the collar of her sweater, sinking his teeth into the fading mark there, restamping his claim.

The car was cramped, making the movements rougher. He hiked her skirt to her waist, knees forcing her legs wider. Belt buckle clicked. Zipper ripped down.

When he entered, Ava gasped in pain, but on the next, deeper thrust, she was crying, hugging his back tight.

The car began to rock violently. Fog coated the windows. Ava’s whimpers and Landon’s suppressed groans mixed, a ritual of beasts mating.

On the final thrust, he gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. His voice was ruined. "Say it. Who do you belong to?"

Ava cried and laughed, tears sliding into her hairline. "Go to hell..."

Landon chuckled darkly, slamming into the deepest point, forcing a scream from her lips.

The climax hit fast and hard. She convulsed, legs wrapping around his waist, rigid. Landon groaned, hot liquid splashing her lower belly and skirt. Another barbaric mark.

Afterward, Ava lay paralyzed in the seat, soaked as if fished from the water. Landon cleaned her up with tissues, methodically. When his thumb brushed her most sensitive spot, she jolted like she’d been electrocuted.

"Eighty-seven days left," he whispered against her ear. "By the end, I want you kneeling and begging."

Ava’s voice was gone, but she smiled. "Keep dreaming."

Landon lowered his head and bit her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood before letting go. "We'll see."

When Ava got out of the car after rearranging her clothes, her legs were jelly. She leaned against the door. The cold wind hit her face, and she realized tears were streaming down her cheeks.

She wiped them away furiously. A crazier fire burned in her eyes.

Landon Voss, you will regret this.

I will make you kneel and take back this carload of shame, doubled.