The glass tower collapsed. Shards of broken crystal rained down, instantly slicing through the expensive silk fabric of her haute couture gown.
A sharp, blinding pain shot up from her twisted ankle. Avah gritted her teeth, a choked gasp escaping her lips, as she reached out to grip the edge of the marble bar, desperately trying to pull herself up.
Flames had already caught the heavy velvet curtains. The fire crawled upward with terrifying speed, forming a wall of heat that completely blocked her path to the left.
The toxic smoke filled her lungs. Avah coughed violently, her chest burning as if she had swallowed glass. Her vision began to blur from the severe lack of oxygen.
Through the thick, gray haze, her stinging eyes locked onto a familiar, broad back. Kain Hopkins. Her fiancé.
"Kain!" Avah reached out a trembling hand toward him. Her voice was weak, barely a rasp over the roar of the fire, begging him to take her with him.
Kain's footsteps faltered. He paused and turned his head, looking directly through the smoke toward Avah's location.
A tiny flicker of hope flared in Avah's chest. Her cold fingers twitched, waiting for him to rush over.
Instead, Kain firmly averted his gaze. Without a second of hesitation, he turned his back on her and sprinted toward the VIP lounge on the opposite side of the room.
Avah's eyes widened in pure shock. Her breath hitched. She stared at his retreating back, her brain refusing to process the reality of his choice.
The heavy mahogany door of the lounge was kicked open. Jaclyn Raymond, Avah's stepsister, ran out screaming and threw herself directly into Kain's arms.
Kain quickly stripped off his expensive suit jacket and wrapped it tightly around Jaclyn's shivering shoulders.
He didn't even cast a single backward glance at his fiancée. He just shielded Jaclyn with his body and hurried her toward the safety of the emergency stairwell.
It felt as though a sledgehammer had slammed directly into Avah's sternum. The impact shattered her ribs and crushed her heart. For a second, she completely forgot the blistering heat of the flames surrounding her.
A burning slab of drywall from the ceiling crashed to the floor inches from her feet, sending up a shower of sparks and completely cutting off her line of sight to the door.
The smoke was suffocating now, stripping the last bits of oxygen from the air. Avah's arms gave out. She collapsed onto the scorching floorboards, her muscles entirely useless.
Staring at the wall of fire where Kain and Jaclyn had disappeared, a cold, self-deprecating smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.
Years of swallowing her pride. Years of compromising her own happiness for the sake of her family's business interests. It all turned to ash in this single, defining moment.
Her fingers moved to her throat. She grabbed the heavy diamond necklace-the symbol of this hypocritical corporate marriage-and yanked it hard. The clasp snapped.
Avah threw the necklace violently into the nearest patch of flames. It was a physical release, a final severing of the chains that had bound her.
The extreme heat pressed down on her. Her vision tunneled into darkness. Her breathing grew incredibly shallow, her chest barely rising.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the ballroom were violently hacked open by a massive firefighter's axe.
A tall, powerfully built rescue worker charged into the inferno. His head swiveled, and he locked onto Avah's motionless body with terrifying precision.
He vaulted over a burning table. Strong, unyielding arms scooped Avah off the floor, lifting her unconscious body against a solid chest.
A cold oxygen mask was clamped firmly over her nose and mouth, forcing life-saving air into her lungs, dragging her violently back from the edge of death.
The piercing wail of ambulance sirens echoed through the dark Manhattan sky. The stretcher rattled wildly as Avah was shoved through the double doors of the emergency room.