Crash! My fiancé struck me. Five minutes ago, I was lost in thoughts of decorating our lavish rooftop condo, every inch screaming wealth and sophistication, like it was ripped from a design catalog. Four minutes ago, I accidentally knocked over a keepsake—a small, ornate music box. Then, Kael hit me across the face—sharp and stinging. My cheek felt like it had been branded with a hot iron. It took a full minute for my mind to catch up, stitching reality back together. "Are you out of your mind?" I hissed, my words sharp, forced through clenched teeth. Kael’s lips twisted into a hard, unforgiving line, his face shadowed with cold determination. “It was just a music box with Liora’s initials on it,” he said, as if my reaction was some theatrical tantrum, not the response to his unthinkable act. “You’ve got to be joking.” I stared at him, chest heaving, fury and shame boiling inside me, ready to erupt. For a fleeting moment, something like regret flashed in his eyes. Then it was gone, swallowed by a tidal wave of rage. “No, you’re the one who’s lost it!” he bellowed. “I’m marrying you—what else do you want? Liora’s gone, but you still smashed that box on purpose!” His voice shook with venom. “She was your cousin! She left because of you! And now you’re so jealous you can’t stand any trace of her, can you?” The hatred in his gaze cut deeper than the slap. My cheek pulsed. My hand was still scraped from the broken glass. But my heart—it ached worse than anything. I forced my jaw to relax, making one last attempt to reason. “I didn’t make her leave.” Technically, I knew why people might think that. Liora had left a note. She’d found my sketchbook, saw my doodles of Kael’s name, and decided to “step aside,” to “let him be yours.” A sketchbook is private. I never meant for anyone to see it, but she did—and told everyone. No one cared about the humiliation I felt when my feelings were exposed. I was paraded as the villain, forced to bear the weight of her so-called selfless exit. To my family, I was the understudy who stole the spotlight, replacing their star—I should’ve been thankful. Even if Kael had crushed my spirit, they’d still defend him. It was like my parents always resented me. No matter how much I outshone Liora, they saw me as spiteful, unable to handle her delicate brilliance. The pain on my cheek burned hotter. My fingers tightened around the engagement ring. A surge of heat—anger, shame, betrayal—choked me. Tears stung my eyes, blurring everything. I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. I wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. I took a shaky step toward the door, desperate to escape before I crumbled completely. Whatever dignity I had left, I wouldn’t let him destroy it. Kael grabbed my wrist, yanking me back. “Clean it up.” I stared at him, incredulous, needing to confirm I’d heard right. “You broke the box. You clean up the mess.” His voice was cold, unyielding. He was unhinged. “No.” I raised my chin, spitting the word with defiance. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing. “You sure about this?” “Yes. I said no.” My eyes were bloodshot but fierce, meeting his gaze without wavering. If love meant shredding my self-worth, it was worthless. The tension between us crackled like a live wire. His eyes blazed with fury, but beneath it, I saw shock. The once-compliant sparrow had grown claws. He stepped closer, his presence menacing. “Last chance. If you don’t do it, we’re—” “—done,” I cut him off, voice like ice. His face froze in disbelief. He hadn’t expected me to say it. In that split-second of his shock, I twisted free from his grip. The thrill of defiance hadn’t fully hit when he lunged, grabbing me again with bruising force. Now. I whirled around and slapped him—hard—across his chiseled, smug face. The air stilled, heavy with silence. My hand stung, but the rush of satisfaction was electric. Kael stumbled back, eyes wide—not from pain, but from a world flipped upside down. He never thought I’d dare. I’d once loved him fiercely. I lowered my hand, tilted my chin, and gave him a cool, faint smile. “Now we’re even.” Without another beat, I turned and walked away from that suffocating nightmare. If I stayed a moment longer, I’d collapse. I’d rather drown in my own pain than let him see it. Then—thud—I tripped. High heels and emotional wreckage don’t mix. Pain shot through my hands and knees as they hit the polished wood floor. Blood welled up, but I barely noticed. I stood, grabbed my bag, and kept moving. Home. I needed to get home. Away from him. Away from everything. Like a fugitive, I bolted from the building—only to crash into a solid wall of muscle and the rich scent of cedarwood cologne. I looked up—and saw a face carved like a statue, with an aura so intense it could hush a crowd. He was the kind of man who didn’t just ruin you—he’d make you vanish. And that only made him more magnetic. For a moment, I imagined him sweeping me away to some hidden sanctuary—my face flushed crimson. If this were a movie, the camera would’ve fumbled the shot. I shook it off. “Sorry,” I muttered, darting into the elevator of my condo building. Upstairs, I dug through my bag. My stomach dropped. No keys. Of course. The universe had officially dubbed today The End of Saria Day. Frustration and despair surged. I kicked off my heels and rattled the doorknob uselessly. It didn’t help, but I needed to lash out. Why did everyone always choose Liora? Wasn’t I enough? I sank against the wall, sliding to the cold floor as sobs ripped through me, unstoppable. Just as I was drowning in my tears, a voice—deep, smooth, like liquid midnight—cut through. “Your key.” Irritation flared. Why did someone always interrupt my breakdowns? I turned, ready to snap—then froze. Through blurry eyes, I saw him again. The man from downstairs, looking like he’d stepped out of a myth. “Your key dropped,” he said, one brow arched as he glanced at my bag’s spilled contents. “That’s why you couldn’t find it.” I stared at the key in his graceful hand, my face burning hot enough to spark a fire. I grabbed it, fumbled the lock, and stumbled inside without a word. Only when the door shut did I realize—I hadn’t thanked him. Brilliant, Saria. Absolute genius. I hesitated, then peered through the peephole. He calmly unlocked the door across the hall and stepped inside. He lived there? He must be new. With that face and presence, I’d have noticed him before. Wait, Saria. Focus. You’re letting a gorgeous neighbor distract you from the hell Kael just put you through? No. Men are garbage. Always. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to calm my racing pulse, telling myself not to be so foolish again. But his face kept flickering in my mind. I needed ice—for my heart rate and the throbbing sting on my cheek. As I staggered toward the kitchen, my phone blared, piercing and shrill. One glance at the screen froze me. Mom. I couldn’t ignore it. She’d ruin my career if I did—she was more than capable. The second I answered, her voice cut like a blade—sharp and merciless. “Saria, are you mad? How dare you disgrace Kael like that! Apologize to him now, or you’re no longer our daughter!” I opened my mouth to protest, stunned—but she hung up before I could speak. I gripped my phone, knuckles white. Why couldn’t I ever earn their love, no matter how hard I tried? And Liora—she did nothing and was still their flawless gem. Enough. I thought effort would win my family, my fiancé. But it never will. I have to end this engagement with Kael—no matter the cost.