I refuse to meet his eyes. Instead, I move to walk away, but his hand clamps down on my arm and the touch sends a jolt of disgust through me, but I don’t stop to think. I try to yank my arm free and spin around, shooting him a glare so sharp it could shatter glass.
“Don’t touch me, motherfucker,” I seethe.
Blaise’s lips curve into a smug grin as he leans in. “Where are you going, princess? I’m proposing to you in five minutes.”
I tilt my chin, raising an eyebrow. “I’d rather fucking die than be with a prick like you. I’m leaving.”
I turn sharply, determined on storming off, but his hand grips my arm again, yanking me back. Before I can spit another insult, he presses his phone to my ear. His dark eyes bore into mine as I listen, the pounding bass of the music fading into the background.
At first, I don’t register the sound—but then it hits me. It’sme, moaning, breathless. Then Rook’s voice follows, deep and unmistakable. Finally, my voice again, gasping his name.
My blood turns to ice.
Blaise pulls the phone away and tucks it smoothly into his pocket.
“I think you understand now,” he says. “You’re not dumb, are you?”
My body shakes with barely contained rage, my chest rising and falling.
“Just accept the proposal, Ebony, and I won’t tell your daddy how you spent Christmas night fucking your own brother. Then, Rook doesn’t die.”
A tear glides down my cheek, burning hot against my skin. My mind races, piecing it together—the stupid hairclip he gave me. It must have had a recording device. He set me up.
But why?
Blaise’s fingers brush over my wet, bruised cheek, his touch sickeningly tender and I jerk back instinctively, but his grasp tightens on my arm.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he breathes. “I’m gonna take real good care of my fiancée. I’m taking you home tonight to solidify our engagement. You won’t escape me twice.”
His gaze lingers on my face a moment longer, relishing my torment, before he finally releases me and strides off.
As soon as he’s gone, my breath comes in shallow gasps, my chest tight as my vision blurs with tears. My thoughts spiral, panic clawing at me as I watch Blaise and my dad talking in the distance, their figures blurring in the haze of the crowd.
An uncontrollable sob escapes me, tearing through my chest and I feel defeated—trapped. But then, something inside me snaps.
I won’t do this anymore.
Without another glance back, I stride through the crowd, my steps quickening as I head for the garage door. When I enter, I hit the button on the wall to open the shutters, the hum of the machinery barely reaching my ears.
My hands tremble as I snatch a set of keys off the hook before I climb onto a sleek black motorbike, jamming the key into the ignition. The engine roars to life, the sound rumbling in my chest. Kicking up the stand, I grip the handlebars tightly and gun it forward, flying out onto the now rainy street.
The cold, wet wind tears at my hair as I leave the mansion—and the monsters inside it—far behind.
As I ride, countless of memories with Rook flood through my mind. One after the other like a video reel.
The warm summer evenings in the pool, just me and him. The way he used to throw me into it, almost drowning me. But to be honest, now I think about it, I believe he only did it because he wanted to see if my tits would flop free from my bikini.
Those times I would get tired of studying, so I would sneak into his bedroom late at night, curl up on his lap as he was sitting in his gaming chair, my head tucked beneath his chin and read a book while he gamed on his computer until the early hours of the morning.
That one spring he whisked me away when I had an argument with my dad about not being able to ride a motorbike when I wanted to, but he refused to teach me because I was a girl. Rook made it his mission to teach me, because girls can ride bikes too. He spent hours with me making sure I'd never forget how to ride one.
After what feels like forever, I pull off at the side of a dark, empty road, the bike skidding slightly on the slick pavement as it comes to a stop. The night is bare, the only sound the relentless drum of rain against the world around me. Water streams down my face and hair, mingling with tears I can’t hold back, soaking through my thin clothes and leaving me shivering on the bike.
My legs shake as I reach into my jacket, fumbling to pull out my phone, my fingers are stiff from the cold. The screen lightsup, casting a pale glow over my face as I stare down at it, my chest rising and falling with shallow, panicked breaths.
His name is right there. Rook.
My thumb hovers over the screen, but I can’t press it. Not yet. Everything smashes down on me—what I’ve done, what I’ve left behind. Blaise will tell my dad. He’ll show him the recording. It’s already too late. Just fucking do it, Ebony. Do what's right for you for once, I tell myself. I take a sharp breath, forcing my thumb to move, pressing the call button.
