Chapter 4
Chapter 4:
The office of Elbert Collins occupied the entire top floor of Collins Tower. It was a space designed to intimidate — dark mahogany, aged leather, and the lingering scent of expensive scotch.
Gaston walked in, bypassing the three secretaries who jumped to their feet. He threw the marriage certificate onto his father’s massive desk.
Elbert Collins, a man who looked like a lion in the twilight of its life — scarred, grey, but still dangerous — picked up the paper and adjusted his spectacles.
“Jocelyn Wolfe?” Elbert read the name aloud. He looked up, his eyes narrowing. “The girl from the Douglas mess? The one in the papers this morning p>
“She’s the one,” Gaston confirmed. He walked to the crystal decanter and poured himself a drink, not offering one to his father.
“She thinks I’m Babe Vincent,” Gaston added, taking a sip. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Elbert laughed — a dry, rasping sound, like sandpaper on wood. “You married her under a pseudonym? Is that even legal p>
“I used my legal name,” Gaston said. “Gaston Collins. She just didn’t read the fine print. She thinks ‘Collins’ is a common name. She doesn’t realize which Collins p>
“Douglas is going to lose his mind,” Elbert mused, setting the certificate down. “Good. We need his market share. If he’s distracted by a personal scandal, it makes the acquisition considerably easier p>
“Protect her,” Gaston said. His voice dropped, losing its amusement. “No leaks about my identity until I say so. I want the legal team ready to bury anyone who bothers her p>
Elbert nodded slowly, studying his son with a newfound respect. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Collins p>
𝖭𝗲𝘸 c𝗁аptе𝗿𝗌 𝘦𝘷𝖾𝗿𝘆 𝗐𝗲е𝘬 𝗈𝗇
Across the city, Jocelyn was dragging her life out of the penthouse.
Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper, appeared in the hallway just as Jocelyn was hauling the second suitcase toward the door.
“Ms. Wolfe?” Mrs. Higgins asked, her hands clutching a duster.
Jocelyn turned. “I’m leaving, Mrs. Higgins. For good p>
The older woman’s face softened. She looked almost relieved. “He doesn’t deserve you, dear. I’ve been saying it to my husband for years p>
“If he asks,” Jocelyn said, pausing at the door, “tell him — actually, tell him nothing p>
“My lips are sealed,” Mrs. Higgins promised.
Jocelyn stepped into the elevator. The doors slid shut, cutting off the last view of the apartment where she had wasted two years of her life.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Bank Alert: Credit Line Activated. Sponsored by Collins Capital Partners. Balance Available: $12,000,000.
Jocelyn stared at the number. She registered the word “Collins” but dismissed it as the name of some generic financial firm her mother’s lawyers used. The amount was what mattered. A wave of relief washed over her so intense her knees nearly buckled. She had resources now. She wasn’t just a discarded girlfriend — she was a woman with capital.
She called a moving service to collect the rest of her boxes and take them to storage.
Downstairs, she hailed a cab.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
Jocelyn hesitated. The Hamptons house wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow — the staff needed time to open it up. She couldn’t go there tonight.
“The Plaza Hotel,” she said. “Fifth Avenue p>
She had money now. She could afford a suite.
As the yellow cab pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic, a black SUV with tinted windows rolled up to the building’s entrance. The door opened and two large men in suits stepped out — Kieran’s security detail, returning early to sweep the apartment before his arrival.
They missed her by thirty seconds.
Jocelyn watched the building recede through the rear window. She was homeless, technically. But for the first time in years, she felt free.