Chapter 4

I stood frozen behind the plant, my body rigid. Every word was a fresh cut, carving away the last remnants of my foolish heart. I put the dress I was holding on a nearby chair and turned to leave, my movements stiff and robotic. I had to get out of there.

I found an empty corridor and leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor. The sobs I had been holding back finally broke free, wracking my body in great, silent waves. He had taken our entire life, our love, and twisted it into a sordid, meaningless mistake to appease his real lover.

All I wanted was to get my father's music box and leave this city, this country, forever.

I wiped my tears, stood up, and forced myself to walk back towards the gala being held in the hotel's grand ballroom. I had to find him. I had to get what was mine.

I had just stepped into the glittering ballroom when a hand shot out and slapped me hard across the face. The force of it sent my head snapping back.

"You bitch!" Evelin shrieked, her face a mask of fury. "You dare show your face here? You think you can steal my man and get away with it?"

The crowd around us fell silent, their eyes turning to the unfolding drama.

"Evelin, you're mistaken," I said, my cheek stinging. "I'm not trying to steal anyone."

"Liar!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the vast room. "I know you've been meeting him in secret! You're a disgusting, gold-digging whore!" She lunged at me again, but her friends held her back.

"I will kill you!" she spat, her eyes wild. "I'll have you thrown in the river!"

A cold dread washed over me. This woman was unhinged. I turned to leave, to escape this public humiliation, but a wall of men-her friends, her security-blocked my path.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Evelin stepped forward, a smug, cruel smile on her face. "I want you to get on your knees," she said, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. "And I want you to lick my shoes clean. In front of everyone."

The crowd gasped. The humiliation was so profound, so utterly debasing, that I felt a wave of nausea.

"No," I said, my voice firm. "I won't."

"You will."

A new voice cut through the tension. Bernard. He was standing right behind Evelin, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. His eyes were cold, and there was a look of bored indulgence on his face as he watched me. He was enjoying this.

"Hold her," he commanded his bodyguards.

They grabbed my arms, forcing me to my knees. I struggled, my heart pounding with terror and rage. "I did nothing wrong! Let go of me!"

SLAP.

Evelin hit me again, harder this time. "Apologize!" she demanded.

"No," I choked out, tasting blood in my mouth. My pride was the only thing I had left.

SLAP.

Again. My head swam.

"That's enough, baby," Bernard said, not to me, but to Evelin. He gently took her hand. "You'll hurt your hand."

My head snapped up. Was this a moment of mercy?

Evelin pouted. "Are you feeling sorry for her, Bernard?"

He laughed, a sound that chilled me to the bone. He kissed her knuckles. "Of course not, my love. Her face isn't worth as much as your perfect hands." He looked at his guards. "You know what to do."

One of the guards drew his fist back and punched me hard in the stomach. The air rushed out of my lungs in a pained gasp. I doubled over, spitting up a mouthful of blood onto the pristine marble floor.

But I still didn't apologize. Through the haze of pain, I glared up at him.

He sighed, a sound of theatrical boredom. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small wooden music box. My father's music box.

"Still stubborn?" he asked, dangling it in front of my face. "Apologize, Addison. Or say goodbye to this."

"Give it back to me," I whispered, my voice raw with desperation. "Please."

He just smiled.

My mind flashed back to the day I sold it. Ben had been sick, a high fever that wouldn't break. We couldn't afford a doctor. So I took the music box, my most precious possession, and sold it for a pittance to pay for his medicine. I cried for a week.

And all this time, he had it. He must have gone back and bought it. Not as a kind gesture, but as a tool. A weapon to be used against me. The cruelty of it was bottomless.

All the fight went out of me. I collapsed onto the floor, a puppet with its strings cut.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words tearing my throat. "I'm sorry for saving you. I'm sorry for falling in love with you. It was all my mistake."

A flicker of something-discomfort? guilt?-crossed Bernard's face. He started to say something, but Evelin snatched the music box from his hand.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" she shrieked, her eyes gleaming with manic glee. She ran to the edge of the ballroom, where a large decorative display of cacti stood. "This is what happens to things that belong to whores!"

She threw the music box with all her might. It arced through the air and landed deep within the thorny maze of plants.

"No!" I screamed, scrambling to my feet. I ran and plunged my hands into the cacti, not even feeling the thorns tear at my skin. All that mattered was getting it back.

"Five thousand dollars to whoever finds it and smashes it for me!" Evelin yelled to the crowd.

People surged forward. Someone shoved me from behind. I fell face-first into the cacti, thorns digging into my face, my arms, my chest.

My fingers closed around the smooth wood of the box just as someone kicked me in the ribs. I curled my body around it, trying to protect it, but hands were grabbing at me, pulling at my hair, tearing at my clothes.

Someone ripped the box from my grasp.

And then, with a sickening crunch, they smashed it on the floor.

The sound echoed in the sudden silence.

I stared at the splintered wood and shattered metal pieces.

The last piece of my father was gone.

And with it, the last piece of my heart.

I wish I had never met him. I wish I had let him die on the side of that road.