"A complete stranger pleaded with me to fake sleeping on his shoulder mid-flight to dodge creepers. But after we touched down, I learned he was actually a hugely powerful billionaire—and my cheating ex-husband was already on my trail."

Elena staggered back a step, her knees trembling so violently that she had to sink down onto the edge of a leather sofa, carefully shifting Lily so the little girl wouldn't wake up.

“He’s here,” Elena whispered, her voice barely audible. “Ethan flew into Houston. If Julian Vance is tracking me, that means Ethan is directing the operation personally. He won't stop until he drags me back to Monterrey, forces me to sign away my parental rights, and buries me in legal paperwork so I can never fight back.”

Adrian strode across the room, his long strides eating up the distance between the console and the sofa. He knelt down in front of her, placing his hands firmly on her knees to steady her shaking frame.

“Look at me, Elena,” Adrian commanded gently, his voice cutting through the rising panic in her mind.

She looked down into his dark, unwavering eyes.

“When Ethan and his little pitbull Julian landed in Texas, they assumed they were hunting a frightened, defenseless woman who had nowhere to run,” Adrian said, every word dripping with cold, calculated resolve. “They assumed they could bully, threaten, and manipulate their way into finding you within twenty-four hours.”

He stood up, towering over the coffee table as he pulled his smartphone from his pocket.

“They have no idea whose backyard they just stepped into,” Adrian continued, tapping out a rapid series of commands on his screen. “Julian Vance thinks he’s operating in a city where he can buy off local judges and lean on corporate proxies. What he doesn't know is that the commercial real estate firm Ethan uses to funnel his slush funds? Two of its primary backing entities are subsidiary trusts fully owned and operated by Prescott Capital.”

Elena stared at him in sheer disbelief. “You mean… Ethan’s business is financially tied to you?”

“Not tied to me directly—yet,” Adrian corrected with a grim, humorless smile. “Corporate structures are messy things, Elena. Companies like Ethan’s rely heavily on high-yield bridge loans and liquidity injections from private equity funds. And as of forty-five seconds ago, I just instructed my chief financial officer to freeze every single credit line, liquidity buffer, and pending asset acquisition associated with Walker Properties.”

He tapped the screen one final time, locking the phone with a crisp click.

“In business terms, Ethan’s company is currently suffering a massive, fatal heart attack. By tomorrow morning, his accounts will be locked, his corporate credit cards will be declined at every luxury restaurant in Houston, and every single bank he owes money to will be calling in their loans simultaneously.”

Elena felt a mixture of awe and absolute terror washing over her. “Adrian… you can't wage a corporate war against my husband just for me! That’s millions of dollars—!”

“Money is a tool, Elena,” Adrian interrupted softly, stepping back in front of her and reaching down to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. His thumb grazed her cheekbone, lingering for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. “And for the first time in my life, I’m using my tools to protect something that actually matters.”

Before Elena could form a coherent reply, the secure intercom chimed again.

This time, it wasn't Marcus. It was the building’s main lobby security desk.

“Mr. Prescott?” the lobby guard’s voice sounded through the speaker, laced with cautious hesitation. “We have an unannounced visitor at the ground-floor security gate. A gentleman claiming to be a prominent corporate executive from out of state. He’s demanding immediate access to your tower.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Name?”

“He provided identification, sir. An executive passport and a Texas legal representation badge. His name is Julian Vance.”

A heavy, breathless silence descended over the penthouse.

Julian Vance hadn't just tracked them down—he had tracked them all the way to Adrian’s private residential tower, operating under the arrogant assumption that corporate titles and legal badges could grant him entry into a fortress built by a billionaire.