Skye walked out of the hotel without a second glance. Trace Ryan watched her retreating figure, then let his gaze drift to the hundred-dollar bills scattered across the bed. The look in his eyes was unreadable—part curiosity, part something darker.
The Montgomery family was hanging by a thread, and yet she had turned down his five-million-dollar offer flat, without even blinking. Was her real play to get close to Kash Wagner all along? She didn't seem like the girl he used to know.
Skye stepped onto the empty street as the clock struck one in the morning. Her legs were still unsteady, her mind a mess. The few late-night stragglers shuffling past offered no comfort. Finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore. She crouched right there on the sidewalk and let the tears come—ugly, heavy sobs that tore through her chest. Her failed plan, the humiliation, the weight of it all crashed down on her.
Under the dim streetlights, her shadow stretched long and lonely.
"Sweetheart, why are you sitting here crying? You alright?" An elderly cleaning lady happened to pass by and stopped, concern softening her weathered face.
Skye lifted her tear-stained eyes to meet the sympathetic gaze, her voice thick with emotion. "My dad was locked up for something he didn't do. It's just me and my sister trying to keep our heads above water while everyone else waits for us to drown. I feel like... I can't do this much longer."
For a year, she had worn a brave mask in front of the world, but inside she was running on fumes, barely able to breathe. Maybe it was easier to break down in front of a total stranger.
The old woman offered warm, gentle words. "Life throws its fair share of storms, dear. Nobody sails through without hitting some rough water. But every hardship is a chance to grow stronger. Chin up, you'll get through this."
Since the Montgomery family's fall, most people had mocked them or treated them like poison. Skye never expected the kindest words to come from a random stranger.
Maybe... there were still good people out there after all.
Skye wiped her tears and nodded with fresh determination. "Thank you, ma'am. I will get through this."
Yes, every challenge only made her tougher.
If her first attempt at seducing Trace Ryan didn't work, she'd try again. If she had to, she'd make him fall for her, no matter what it took. She still had a few cards up her sleeve.
By the time Skye made it back to her rented apartment, it was already two in the morning, her head finally clear. She pushed open the door only to find her sister, Mae Carr, perched on the sofa.
Mae was wearing nothing but a flimsy camisole, her face bare and pale. Her eyes were red-rimmed, like she'd been crying.
Skye hesitated, then walked over and asked softly, "Sis, what are you doing here?"
"Who was that man?" Mae always had this calm, composed way about her, and she never raised her voice at Skye. But the disappointment in her eyes slammed into Skye like a fist to the gut, hard enough to knock the air out of her.
"Trace Ryan," Skye admitted without sugar-coating it.
Mae’s expression darkened. "Skye, do you have any idea what kind of man Trace Ryan is? How dare you get involved with him? This could bring disaster down on you, do you understand?"
Skye answered evenly, "Sis, I found out that the person who framed Dad and put him in prison is tightly connected to Ryan Holdings. Getting close to Trace is the only way I might get to the truth. I..."
Mae's eyes brimmed with tears as she cut in, "But Skye, I don't want you to sacrifice your happiness. You deserve a man who really loves you, a quiet, peaceful life. That's what I want, and it's what Dad would want too. Don't you see that?"
"True love?" Skye let out a bitter laugh like she'd just heard the worst punchline in the world. "What does love even mean? How many men have screwed over the women who trusted them since the beginning of time? Just look at you and Bryce Carr..."
The air froze solid. Mae flinched, memories flooding back—the naive girl who once believed saying "I do" to Bryce meant a lifetime of happiness, only to find out it was nothing but a long, humiliating joke.
How could she judge Skye when her own marriage was a dumpster fire?
"I'm sorry, sis..." Skye winced as regret crashed over her. How could she have dragged up Mae's most painful wound like that?
"No, Skye, you're right," Mae said quietly after a long pause. "But because my marriage failed, I don't want you to make the same mistake I did. Trace Ryan is not someone you can afford to mess with. Promise me you won't see him again. Please."
Skye dodged the promise. "Sis, I'm kinda tired. I'm gonna go take a shower."
With that, she turned and walked away. She didn't want to put Mae in a tough spot, but she had already chosen this road, and she'd walk it to the end—even if she had to crawl every step of the way.
A sudden buzzing from the coffee table cut through the silence.
"Skye, let me finish—" Mae called after her, picking up the phone and unlocking the screen. An auto-playing video popped up.
It showed her husband, Bryce Carr, tangled up in bed with another woman.
