"Why should I apologize?"
The last time I said those words, Jeydon had tied me and my little dog—the one he'd rescued years ago and later given me—on opposite ends of a rope.
He hung us outside the window all night.
I cried and begged until my voice broke, but all he said was, "You couldn't teach it properly, so I'll teach it for you."
By the time he took us down the next morning, the stones used to balance our weight had crushed my dog's fragile bones. Its small body was nothing but a heap of blood and fur—lifeless and cold.
So now, when I stared straight into Jeydon's eyes, my voice was steady but laced with fury.
"Last time, you killed my dog. What about this time? Are you planning to kill me?"
His pupils contracted sharply, his lips pressing into a hard line. Anger flashed across his face.
"Stop changing the subject! You tried to run Krisha over, so apologize!"
I let out a short, bitter laugh. "My car hasn't even started. How exactly did I run her over? Jeydon, has she made you lose your damn mind?"
"You—!"
"Jeydon," Krisha whimpered, tugging on his sleeve. "Maybe I was just too scared and misunderstood Miss Meyer. Please don't argue because of me."
He carefully lifted her into his arms and placed her back in her wheelchair as though she were made of glass.
"Don't worry. I won't let you suffer for nothing."
Then he turned to me, step by step, his eyes darkening.
"Since you're so stubborn, you can experience the same fear Krisha felt."
He got into his car. The moment the engine roared to life, my heart stopped. I spun around and ran.
The screech of tires split the air. When I looked back, the car was charging toward me like a wild beast, headlights blazing.
Jeydon's cold eyes glinted behind the windshield.
I darted for cover—but slammed into a concrete pillar. The car skidded to a stop, its bumper grazing my leg.
Panting hard, I collapsed to the ground. Every inch of my skin trembled from the brush with death.
Jeydon stepped out. His polished shoes stopped inches from my face.
"Remember this lesson."
Then, he coldly added, "Cheska, since the lot chose you, I'll marry you. Krisha won't be a threat to you anymore. Stop causing her trouble."
He left with her in his arms, without so much as a backward glance.
I stayed there, tasting blood on my lips, the metallic tang spreading across my tongue.
For one tear from Krisha, he could take everything I loved—and even threaten my life.
I had long known how blind his sense of right and wrong was. And yet, every time, his blatant favoritism still cut me open anew.
It took me a long while before I managed to stand. I couldn't drive in this state, so I stumbled out to hail a cab.
As I stepped out of the parking lot, the first thing I saw was the Rolls-Royce that had almost hit me earlier.
The window was half-lowered. Krisha leaned against the frame, her gaze fixed on Jeydon walking toward her, holding an ice cream cone.
She took a bite, and he caught her chin, bending down to kiss her deeply.
A sharp pain twisted in my chest.
Jeydon hated sweets—he'd wrinkle his nose just from the smell. To please him, I'd even given up my favorite ice cream.
Yet now, because of her, he was savoring the very sweetness he once despised.
I turned away, ready to leave. But before I could take a step, a strong arm wrapped around my neck from behind.
"Mm—!" I gasped, struggling wildly, trying to scream for help.
Amid the chaos, Jeydon seemed to hear something—he turned his head slightly.
"Ah! It spilled on me!" Krisha's soft, coquettish cry rang out.
Without a second of hesitation, Jeydon turned back to her, taking out his handkerchief to wipe the melted ice cream from her hand.
My heart sank into the depths of despair.
I kicked and clawed desperately, but it was no use. The man behind me shoved me into a stranger's car, slamming the door shut.
Through the window, I caught one last glimpse of Jeydon pressing a kiss to Krisha's cheek before driving away, never once looking back.
The door closed with a dull thud.
And then—there was nothing but darkness.
