CHAPTER 2

Anya’s POV

I turned sharply, my phone nearly slipping from my hand. Kennedy stood a few feet away, his jaw clenched, eyes bloodshot. His expensive suit was slightly rumpled, and the smell of alcohol hit me before he even moved closer. His smile—if it could be called that—was sharp and cruel.

“It’s none of your business,” I said, though my voice trembled a little.

He took a step forward. “It is my business,” he said, his tone low and dangerous. “You’re my fiancée now. Or did you forget that already?”

Before I could respond, he grabbed my wrist hard. His fingers dug into my skin, and I winced. “Let go,” I snapped, trying to pull away, but he didn’t.

“Forget whoever it is,” he hissed. “You belong to me now.”

I shook my head, my voice rising. “I don’t belong to anyone!”

That made him angrier. His grip tightened, and in one fast movement, he shoved me back against the wall. The sound echoed, and I gasped as pain shot through my shoulder. His face was inches from mine now, his breath reeking of whiskey.

“Don’t embarrass me again,” he said quietly, the calm in his voice more terrifying than if he’d shouted. “If you do, I’ll make sure you regret it. Understand?”

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall in front of him. I stared back, silent, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

He finally released me, straightened his jacket, and gave a twisted smirk. “Good girl,” he muttered before turning and walking away as if nothing had happened.

I slid down the wall slowly, shaking all over. My arm ached where he had grabbed me. I could still smell his cologne—too strong, mixed with alcohol and anger.

My phone was still in my hand. I looked at the screen. No missed calls. No messages.

For the first time that night, fear settled deep inside me. Not just fear of Kennedy—but fear that something was wrong with Chase. Fear that maybe my father had been right… that love didn’t stand a chance in our world.

But I wasn’t ready to believe that yet. Not while my heart still belonged to him.

I sneaked out of the house carefully, trying not to make a sound. The hallways were quiet and empty, and I could almost hear my own heartbeat echoing off the walls. The night air was cold as I stepped outside, a shiver running down my spine. I grabbed my car keys with shaking hands and hurried to the garage. The cold metal bit my fingers, and I almost dropped them, but I caught them just in time. My car felt like a lifeline as I got inside, slammed the door, and started the engine.

I drove to Chase’s apartment building, my mind a whirlwind of hope and fear. What if he was gone? What if something had happened? My fingers drummed nervously against the steering wheel as I parked and ran up the stairs, my heart pounding like a drum. I didn’t care that my heels clicked loudly against the concrete steps, that my chest was tight, or that my legs burned. I just needed to see him.

When I reached his door, I knocked hard, my hand stinging from how fast I was pounding. “Chase… it’s me,” I called, my voice trembling. My heart sank when there was no answer. I knocked again, louder this time. “Please… Chase, answer me!”

Still nothing.

Panic began to coil in my stomach. This wasn’t like him. He always answered my calls, always came to me. Why wasn’t he here? What had happened? My mind raced with every possible terrible scenario, each one worse than the last.

Then I heard a door open behind me. I turned quickly and saw an older woman stepping out—it was their neighbor. Her face was kind, lined with age, but there was a softness in her eyes that made me feel slightly better… until she spoke.

“Are you looking for Chase?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“Yes! Do you know where he is? He’s not answering the door!” My words tumbled out, desperate.

She sighed, shaking her head slowly. “They moved out… him and his grandmother. They left earlier today.”

My stomach dropped. My chest felt like it had been ripped open. “Moved out? But… where? Do you know where they went?” My voice shook, barely a whisper.

“No, dear,” she said softly. Then she paused, as if thinking. “But he left something for you. He said you’d come looking.”

My hands trembled as she disappeared inside for a moment and returned with a small, white envelope. My fingers brushed over it, and the paper felt impossibly heavy. I took it from her, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold it. “Th-thank you,” I stammered, my throat tight.

I stepped into the hallway, leaning against the wall for support, and carefully opened the envelope. My heart hammered painfully in my chest as I unfolded the letter. Chase’s handwriting greeted me like a ghost, familiar yet distant. My eyes scanned the words, and I felt like the floor had disappeared beneath me.

He wrote that he had always known we could never be together. That he was only after my father’s money. That everything between us—every laugh, every look, every word—was a lie. My heart twisted, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I wanted to scream, to throw the letter away, to burn it, but I couldn’t move.

He continued that now, since I was getting married to someone else, my father had offered him money to disappear—and he had taken it. That he couldn’t pass up a fortune for something that wasn’t real. He told me not to look for him and wished me happiness in my new life.

By the time I finished reading, my hands were shaking so badly the letter slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. I just sat there, staring at it, unable to breathe.

He was gone.

The boy I had loved—the boy I thought loved me—had left. And worse, he had done it for money.

Tears blurred my vision as I sank to the cold floor of the hallway. The pain in my chest was unbearable. It felt like my whole world had shattered in one night.

I had loved the wrong person.

I had trusted the wrong person.

I had believed in love… and now I was paying the price.