The voices cut through me like knives.
“I didn’t steal,” I begged, clutching the golden locket tightly in my trembling hands. “I just wanted to look at it. Please—it’s mine. It belonged to my grandmother. I only wanted to see if it was the same one… and buy it.”
But my words were drowned out by cruel laughter.
“She’s delusional!” someone sneered.
“Pathetic!” another voice spat.
“Look at her, clinging to something she could never afford.”
The crowd gathered closer, their judgment merciless. My cheeks burned as the whispers turned to shouts. Someone pointed at my necklace.
“Those jewels she’s wearing—they’re fake! All of them!”
Another hand grabbed at my wrist, yanking the bracelet Jackson had once given me. “Knock-off,” the woman sneered, tossing it aside.
And then came the first throw. A piece of bread. Then a glass of wine. Then plates, scraps of food, whatever they could grab. All hurled at me as if I were nothing more than garbage.
I searched the crowd desperately for Jackson. For his face. For his hand to reach out and stop this nightmare.
But he stood still. Silent. Pretending not to know me.
That hurt more than anything else.
The humiliation dragged me out of the hall. They shoved me, kicked me, tossed me aside until I collapsed on the cold pavement outside the auction house. My dress was torn, my skin bruised, and my heart… utterly shattered.
No one came. No one cared.
And yet, as I lay there, a memory surfaced—sharp and cruel in its contrast. Years ago, in a crowded marketplace, a stranger once accused me of stealing a loaf of bread. I had frozen in fear, too poor to defend myself, too small to fight back. But Jackson had been there. He stood in front of me, his arm shielding me from the crowd, his voice fierce as he declared my innocence. Back then, he had fought for me. Protected me from humiliation.
But tonight? Tonight he had turned away. Pretended I didn’t exist.
We truly lived in different worlds now.
I dragged myself to my feet, limping through the streets until the glowing sign of a pawnshop came into view. My hands shook as I pulled off the necklace, the rings, the bracelets Jackson had given me over the years. All the gifts I thought symbolized his love.
“Please,” I whispered to the clerk. “Check them for me. Tell me if they’re real.”
The man examined each piece with practiced eyes, his expression hardening. He pushed them back across the counter. “All fake. Worthless imitations.”
My knees buckled.
That was it. The last straw.
Everything—our love, his promises, the trinkets I held onto so desperately—nothing but lies.
I left the pawnshop with empty hands, empty heart, and a decision. I was truly done. This relationship can’t be saved anymore.
I walked to the police station, forcing myself to stand tall despite the pain. “I’d like to report what happened tonight,” I said, my voice steady though my insides trembled. “They accused me falsely. They humiliated me. They—”
The officer’s face was unreadable as he took my statement, but even as I spoke, a voice in my head whispered that it wouldn’t matter. Not against them. Not against Jackson’s world.
That night, back home, I tried to rest. Two more days, I told myself. Just two more days and I’d disappear.
But the door slammed open.
Jackson stormed in, fury radiating from him. Before I could rise, his hand struck my cheek with a force that knocked me back against the bed.
“Are you really trying to embarrass me?!” he roared. “You dare file a case against those people after you tried to steal?!”
Tears stung my eyes. “I wasn’t stealing, Jackson—I swear! I just wanted to look at it. It was my grandmother’s locket—”
“Shut up!” His voice cut through me. “You have no right. You can’t win. You don’t have the money to fight this case. So drop it! Enough embarrassment already! You’re just a useless bitch, do you hear me? I regret bringing you here. I should have left you in that scrappy apartment where you belonged.”
My tears finally fell, hot and unstoppable, trailing down my bruised skin. For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes—regret, maybe even guilt.
But before I could speak, another voice cut through the tension.
“Jackson.”
His mother stood in the doorway, her presence commanding. Nathalia’s expression was calm, but her eyes glittered with quiet cruelty.
“Don’t be too harsh on her,” she said smoothly. “She’s hurt and embarrassed.”
She approached me, her heels clicking against the marble floor. “Don’t worry, Cassandra. Just cancel the case, and I’ll pay for the locket. You can have it back. After all, it was your grandmother’s, wasn’t it?”
“Mom, stop spoiling her. She’ll think she deserves more. Next thing you know, she’ll become a gold digger.”
He turned to me, eyes sharp once more. “Don’t embarrass me again, Cassandra. If you do, the wedding won’t happen.” Then he left, the slam of the door echoing through the hollow space he’d left behind.
I sat frozen, staring at the ground, until Nathalia leaned closer.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking it back so hard I gasped.
“You better be gone before the wedding,” she whispered into my ear, her voice laced with venom. Of course, she was just pretending a while ago. “Because my son never deserved you. If you dare to embarrass this family again, you’ll be dead.”
She shoved me down, my body hitting the cold floor. The emerald necklace around my throat gleamed mockingly as she turned and walked out, leaving me crumpled and trembling in the dark.
Later that night, my phone buzzed.
Through blurry eyes, I reached for it, hoping it was my friend. Hoping it was anyone who still remembered me.
But it wasn’t.
The call was from an unknown number.
“Hey, Miss Cassandra. I’m Ryle, Jackson’s greatest rival. What do you say about marrying me instead?”
