Mark lit a cigarette, letting it smolder in silence.

Casting a glance at her damaged leg, he offered a wry smile.

“My people are rather merciful. They only broke one of your legs. Yet you still dare approach me?"

It was a moment of grim realization for Elaine.

She understood now that she should never had provoked this man.

Mark's smile thinned.

"And the nonsense you spewed at Cecilia? It was beyond ridiculous. She cut her finger last night trying to cook, all because of your senseless words. You should know that I take her well-being very seriously, Miss Shaw."

Humiliation washed over Elaine, leaving her at a complete Loss.

Mark looked down, his dark eyes inscrutable.

After a moment's pause, he softly said, "Send her abroad. Ensure she never returns."

Pulling out his checkbook, he wrote a check for ten million dollars.

It was enough, essentially, to seal Elaine's fate.

The men understood Mark's implication and assured him they would handle the matter appropriately.

As Mark turned back to his limo and grasped the door handle, Elaine snapped out of her stupor.

Realizing that Mark had reached the limits of his tolerance for her, she made a desperate dash toward the car.

"Mr. Evans, please show me some mercy. I won't appear before you or say anything to Miss Fowler ever again. Please forgive me this one time," she pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

Then, she was flabbergasted.

Her gaze fell upon the opulent small box scattered on the back seat.

There was a stunning pink diamond ring and a couture dress from a famous brand.

Had Mark bought all these luxuries for Cecilia?