Claudia Sims POV:
The grip on my wrist was brutal. Ashton's fingers dug into my skin like an iron vise, the pressure so intense I felt my bones grinding together.
When he lost control, he always used his physical size to force submission.
He yanked me backward. The sheer force of his pull made me stumble in my flat shoes, but I bit down hard on the inside of my lip. I tasted copper. I didn't make a single sound.
He shoved his shoulder against a heavy oak door off the side of the stage and dragged me into the dim, empty VIP hallway.
The heavy door slammed shut behind us. The violent thud instantly cut off the roar of the reporters and the blinding flashes of the cameras.
Ashton spun me around and hurled me backward. My spine slammed into the cold plaster wall. A dull, heavy ache radiated through my ribs, and I frowned slightly.
He lunged forward like a rabid dog. He slammed both of his hands against the wall, trapping my face between his arms.
"Are you insane?" he roared, his spit flying onto my cheek. "Do you have any idea what you just did? You ruined my entire rollout!"
I slowly lifted my head. I looked at his handsome, furious face. My eyes were completely dead, like staring at a piece of rotting wood.
My utter lack of fear pushed him over the edge. He pulled back his right fist and smashed it into the wall, less than an inch from my left ear.
Plaster dust sprinkled down onto my shoulder. I didn't blink. I didn't flinch. I had survived capital wars that wiped out entire family dynasties. A man punching a wall was nothing but a pathetic tantrum.
Ashton saw my blank stare. His chest heaved. He instantly dropped the aggression and switched to his favorite tactic.
His voice dropped an octave, turning soft and dripping with fake condescension. "Claudia, listen to me. Bianca is just a tool. She's a PR asset to sell tickets."
He raised his hand, reaching out to stroke my cheek. "You know you are my real fiancée. You're the one I come home to."
I turned my head sharply. I dodged his fingers like he was carrying a deadly disease. The disgust in my stomach made me want to throw up.
His hand froze in mid-air. The fake softness on his face vanished, replaced by a dark, ugly shadow.
He let out a cruel sneer. "Don't play the victim, Claudia. Look at yourself. You are unemployed. You live in my apartment. You eat my food."
He leaned in closer, his breath smelling of stale champagne. "Without my name and my resources, you wouldn't even be allowed through the service entrance of this museum."
I listened to him twist reality. I listened to the man whose entire empire was built on my hidden labor call me a parasite. I suddenly realized how hilariously pathetic the last five years of my life had been.
I raised my left hand. Without a single second of hesitation, I grabbed the engagement ring on my ring finger and pulled it off.
The diamond caught the dim hallway light, flashing a cheap, cloudy sparkle. His assistant had bought it. It was a mass-produced piece of garbage.
I flicked my wrist and hurled the ring straight at his chest. The metal hit the lapel of his custom suit with a heavy thud.
The ring bounced off him and hit the floor. The sharp clatter echoed in the silence as it rolled away into the dark corner of the hallway.
"We're done," I said. My voice had no anger, no sadness, no inflection at all. "The engagement is off."
Ashton froze. His eyes widened in absolute shock. He stared at me like I had grown a second head. He genuinely believed the canary would never leave the cage.
I raised my hands, placed them flat against his chest, and shoved him out of my way. My movement was clean and absolute.
As I walked past him, the shock wore off. He spun around, his face twisting into hysterical rage. He pointed a shaking finger at my back.
"If you walk out that door, I will blacklist you in this city!" he screamed, his voice echoing off the walls. "I will make sure you never work in New York again! I will ruin you!"
My hand wrapped around the cold brass doorknob of the exit. I stopped for half a second.
I turned my head slightly, looking over my shoulder. I looked at him the exact way I looked at garbage on the sidewalk.
I pushed the heavy door open and stepped out into the freezing New York rain.
"The cold wind whipped Claudia's long hair around her face. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a black phone that had been turned off for five years."
