4
His words, more than the physical blow, sent
a shiver down my spine. I touched my cheek,
already feeling the tell–tale throb.
That jade bangle wasn’t just a piece of
jewelry; it was a piece of my heart, a sacred
link to my lost brother. It was always locked
away safely in my room. Silas knew that.
And now, just to appease Cora, to buy her
affection, he’d not only stolen it from me but
also dared to strike me, all without a flicker of
remorse.
L
“Silas Thorne,” I whispered, my voice
dangerously low, “you actually dared to hit
me!”
I’d never truly allowed my anger towards him.
to surface before, not like this. Seeing the
glacial fury in my eyes, Silas actually faltered,
a flicker of something unreadable – regret?
fear? in his gaze. He looked like he might
even try to explain.
—
Cora, ever the opportunist, immediately put
on a show of heartbreaking reluctance. She
slowly unclasped the jade bangle, holding it
out to me with a martyred sigh.
“Quinn, dear, if you really like it that much,
then of course, you can have it. I just… I just
don’t want you and Silas to fight because of
me.” Her voice was a masterpiece of
<
wounded innocence.
She offered me the bangle. As my fingers
brushed against the cool jade, her hand
suddenly, almost imperceptibly, loosened its
grip. The bangle slipped, arcing through the
air for a horrifying instant before it hit the
stone path with a sickening crack, shattering
into two jagged pieces.
Something inside me, a cord stretched taut
for far too long, finally snapped. My vision
tunneled, edged with black.
I raised my hand, every instinct screaming to
strike her, to wipe that false piety from her
face, but Silas moved faster, shoving me
hard.
“Quinn, I won’t let you hurt Cora!” he roared,
“Quinn, I won’t let you hurt Cora!” he roared,
his face contorted with rage.
“Look at yourself, acting like a common
shrew!” he spat. “Cora was already giving it
back to you! You’re the one who didn’t catch
- it. Whose fault is that, huh?”
His violent push sent me stumbling backward,
and I fell heavily, inelegantly, to the
unforgiving ground.
A crowd had gathered, their faces a mixture
of shock and morbid curiosity, eager for the
unfolding spectacle.
Staring at the broken jade, the fractured
pieces reflecting the fading sunlight, the image of my brother’s smiling face flashed
before my eyes. Tears, hot and unexpected,
く
welled up, blurring my vision.
Silas’s aggressive, accusatory tirade
continued, a meaningless drone in the
background.
My hand trembled as I reached for the
shattered pieces of the bangle. As I picked
them up, a strange sensation pricked at my
senses. Something felt… off. Wrong.
But before I could examine them more
closely, a furious, authoritative voice boomed
from behind me, cutting through the charged
atmosphere.
“What in God’s name do you think you’re
doing!”
My parents were walking briskly towards us,
く
their faces grim, supporting a regal–looking
Grandma King between them.
Landon King, his expression unreadable,
rushed forward, gently but firmly helping me
to my feet. He looked directly at me, his eyes
searching mine, as he carefully brushed the
dust from my dress. “Are you alright, Quinn?”
he asked, his voice surprisingly soft, yet
steady.
I shook my head, my face set in a grim mask.
Landon’s eyes, now filled with an undeniable
concern, shifted to my hands. He carefully,
almost reverently, took the broken bangle
pieces from my trembling grasp.
Seeing this intimate exchange, Silas frowned,
his brows knitting together in a dark line.
く
“Quinn, what is the meaning of this?” he
demanded, his voice laced with possessive
anger. “Carrying on with another man, right
here, in front of everyone? Do you even care
that I’m supposed to be your fiancé? Are you
deliberately trying to embarrass me, to make
me look like a fool?”
Whispers immediately rippled through the
onlookers, a fresh wave of speculation and
gossip.
But the murmuring didn’t last long.
My father’s commanding voice cut through
the noise, sharp and unequivocal.
“Is there something inherently wrong with my
future son–in–law holding my daughter’s
hand?”
L
“Is there something inherently wrong with my
future son–in–law holding my daughter’s
hand?”
Silas’s face fell, his arrogance deflating like a
punctured balloon. “Mr. Hamilton,” he
stammered, “you… you’re joking, right? I’ve
always been Quinn’s fiancé, haven’t I?”
My father fixed Silas with a look that could
freeze fire. “You? I’m terribly sorry, young
man, but as charitable as my Quinn can be,
and believe me, her well of compassion runs
deep, she’s certainly not about to spend the
rest of her life on a particularly unpromising
welfare project.”
