Too Late, Mr. Howard: Watch Me Leave

"Mr. Howard, please save me..."

Ericka Sparks whimpered, her thin shoulders shaking inside a torn million-dollar bridal gown. She was begging Dylan standing below the altar, Avery's husband. At the altar of Manhattan's Grand Cathedral on Fifth Avenue, the heavy scent of ten thousand white roses could not mask the sharp smell of fresh blood.

Avery Schmidt stood behind her, pressing a steel letter opener against Ericka's pale neck. A red bead rolled down the skin, staining the lace collar. Below the steps, wealthy guests gasped and covered their mouths, staring at the bleeding bride and the lawful wife she had replaced.

"Shut up! Save your disgusting tears!"

Avery choked Ericka's throat harder with her left arm, her voice raw and raspy. For three years, Ericka had played the helpless intern around Avery's husband while secretly tearing their marriage apart.

Heavy footsteps echoed across the marble floor, crushing fallen white petals.

Dylan Howard, walked up the altar steps in a tailored black tuxedo. His tall frame cast a long shadow, and his deep gray eyes held zero panic - only a bone-chilling calm that made the air freeze.

Avery raised her bloodshot eyes to the man she had served like a maid for three years. Her chest tightened until she could barely draw breath.

"Dylan, we haven't even signed the final divorce decree. How dare you hold her hand and stand here today?"

Dylan stopped three paces away. The old tactical scar near his right temple looked pale under the candlelight.

"Put the blade down, Avery."

His tone was flat and cold, carrying no warmth for the woman who shared his name.

Avery let out a bitter laugh, holding back the hot tears burning her rims.

"Put it down? Three days ago, Schmidt Enterprises was liquidated under the Bankruptcy Code, and my father shot himself in his study. Was that your trap?"

Her hand shook, pressing the steel tip deeper into Ericka's flesh.

"You traded my three years of obedience for my family's ruin, just to clear the Mrs. Howard title for her?"

Dylan frowned slightly, his thin lips parting without hesitation.

"The fall of the Schmidt family was the natural result of capital markets. It has nothing to do with personal grudges."

He looked past Avery with open annoyance, fixing his gaze on Ericka's pale face.

"Your sick possessiveness destroyed you. Stop blaming innocent people for your madness."

A tear hung on the small mole beneath Ericka's right eye as she leaned her weak body toward Dylan.

"Dylan... don't hurt Avery... I shouldn't have wished for happiness..."

Hearing Ericka call him by his name made Avery's throat burn with rage. Every nerve in her body trembled.

"Listen to her! For three years you let her provoke me right under my nose. Did you really think I was blind?"

Avery screamed, pushing the blade down another half inch. Dim light filtered through the stained-glass dome above, casting dark shadows over the three of them.

Dylan slowly slid his right hand into the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket, his fingers brushing cold metal.

"I gave you a chance to leave with dignity, Avery. You are wasting my last bit of patience."

Avery stared into his eyes and realized there had never been a single second of affection in them. She threw her head back and laughed, her voice echoing through the hall.

"Dignity? You stepped on my family's dead bodies. What right do you have to talk about dignity?"

Her voice cracked, raw with rage.

"She killed my child! Ericka pushed me down the stairs when I was two months pregnant-I lost the baby. Our baby. And you used that as your excuse to gut Schmidt Enterprises. My father shot himself in his study three days ago. My mother hanged herself in the sanatorium two days later. And you stand here telling me she's innocent?"

Dylan's jaw tightened, but his voice stayed flat and cold.

"Ericka told me you attacked her first. She was defending herself. She would never harm a child."

"Of course you'd believe her." Avery's laugh was hollow. "She's kind and warm. I'm the ruthless one who schemes and stops at nothing. Isn't that what you always say?"

"You said it yourself." Dylan's gray eyes were ice. "You're ruthless and you stop at nothing. Ericka is nothing like you."

Taking advantage of Avery's shaking frame, Ericka narrowed her eyes with a sudden, vicious glint. The fragile bride bent her right elbow and slammed it hard into Avery's ribs.

Pain exploded across Avery's chest. Her fingers went numb and spasmed.

Ericka slipped free like a snake and threw herself into Dylan's arms, sobbing loudly.

"Dylan, save me!"

Losing her leverage, Avery stumbled back two steps and caught the marble podium to stay upright. When she lifted her head, she was not met with hesitation, but the matte-black barrel of a Sig Sauer P226 pistol.

The dark muzzle pointed straight at her heart, and Dylan's wrist did not waver an inch.