Brooke POV:
"Let's play a game!" Kelly announced. "The Hunt. But digital."
She walked to a console. "The computer decides pairs based on genetic compatibility."
A trap. Kelly's family owned the software.
"Easton first," Kelly cooed.
Easton scanned his hand. ALPHA EASTON SPENCER.
Kelly scanned hers.
COMPATIBILITY: 99%.
Applause.
I gripped the table. Statistically impossible. Even Easton frowned, but he stayed silent.
"Now Brooke," Kelly smiled. "Maybe the gardener?"
"I'm not playing," I stood up.
"Sit down," Easton warned.
"I'm leaving."
Easton moved in a blur. He grabbed my wrist. Iron grip.
"You will not walk away. Don't act like a feral dog."
"A feral dog? Is that all I am?"
"Right now? Yes."
"Okay," Kelly grabbed his other arm. "Highest match spends seven minutes in 'The Den'."
She pointed to a soundproof closet.
"Easton," I pleaded. Not as a wife, but as a human. "Don't go in there. If you do, there is no coming back."
Easton looked at my cheap dress, then at Kelly's diamond necklace and the fake 99%.
He dropped my wrist.
"Grow up, Brooke. It's just a game."
He took Kelly's hand.
They stepped inside. The lock clicked.
The sound of a guillotine dropping.
I stood alone in the crowd.
I reached into my pocket. My anniversary gift. Silver ore cufflinks, treated not to burn.
I walked to the trash can.
I dropped the box in.
Then, I walked out into the biting wind.
The contract was broken. He had rejected me.
Now, it was my turn.
