Chapter 3

Ethan's expression shifted instantly.

Georgia's pupils contracted. She whipped her head toward Ethan, pounding his chest in fury. "What does this mean, Ethan? What does she mean by 'fiancée'? Didn't you say I was the only one? Didn't you say you only loved me, that you'd only marry me?"

The rest of the staff started whispering among themselves.

"Wait—so she really is the CEO's fiancée? And we just did all that to her... are we screwed?"

"Don't overthink it. Even if she is, it's just an arranged marriage. What really matters in the end is who the CEO actually loves."

"Exactly. The real woman of this house is Ms. Taylor."

Ethan finally snapped back to reality.

"So what if you are? You're nothing but a pawn the Gambinos sent over for a merger. My father's political standing is the only thing keeping your family's hands clean. Even if I killed you right now—what could your father possibly do about it?"

He turned to Georgia, his voice softening into coaxing.

"Georgia, baby. I'm yours. Only yours. I'll break this engagement eventually and marry you. You're the only one I'll ever acknowledge as my wife."

Georgia melted on the spot, all bashful and smug, lifting her chin at me.

"Get it now? So what if you're his fiancée? He's never going to marry you!"

I spat out a mouthful of blood, looked at her, and let out a mocking laugh.

"He was never even qualified to be my husband!"

"You dare look down on Ethan?!" Georgia grabbed my hair and slammed my head into the wall. "Do you even know who he is?"

"He's the governor's son! Even the President would show him respect—and who the hell are you?"

"Pfft—screw you!" I spat the blood from my mouth right onto her face.

"Ahhhh! You filthy bitch! You dared—that's disgusting! I'll make you pay!" She shrieked, frantically wiping her face, then turned to the crowd. "Get over here! Hit her! All of you!"

The onlookers exchanged glances. No one moved.

I looked half-dead already—no one wanted a murder on their hands.

Georgia saw no one budging and went feral. "Are you all deaf?! Hit her! Beat her to death! Anyone who doesn't move—I'll have Ethan fire you! And no company in this state will ever hire you again!"

They looked at each other. And finally moved.

A burly man stepped up first and drove his boot into me.

I flew across the room and slammed into the far wall, my vision swimming.

Then came the fists. The kicks. Countless blows raining down, each one full-force. They kept glancing at Georgia's face as they did it—the happier she looked, the harder they swung.

I curled into a ball on the ground, covering my head. I could feel my ribs cracking one by one. The pain stole my breath. A metallic taste flooded my throat.

"Kaff—"

Blood poured out of my mouth, splattering across the white tile like a grotesque painting.

"Okay, okay, don't kill her. Leave a breath." Georgia's voice rang out, light and pleased. She walked over and nudged my shoulder with her toe. "Let me see—still breathing?"

I lifted my head slowly. My face was a wreck of bruises and blood, my swollen eyes barely open—but the fury in them burned hot.

Georgia crouched down, tilting her head with that poisonous smile. "So? Ready to admit you were wrong yet?"

"Put the ring in my hand, slap yourself across the face, and say 'I'm a bitch'—and maybe, just maybe, I'll go easy on you."

I stared at that smug face of hers and ground out two words through my teeth. "In your dreams."

Her expression went cold instantly.

Her eyes dropped to my ring hand, and she lunged for it.

"Someone like you doesn't deserve to wear something this precious!" Her sharp nails dug into my skin, raking bloody lines across my flesh. "Probably got it from some sugar daddy anyway—you cheap whore!"

But I kept my fist clenched tight. She pried and clawed until one of her acrylic nails snapped clean off—and still couldn't get it.

Her face turned black.

She stood up, scanned the room, and her eyes landed on a box cutter lying on the desk.

She picked it up, sliding the blade out inch by inch, and let out this eerie little laugh.

"Won't let go, huh? Then I'll just cut your whole hand off. Let's see how tough you are then."

The blade swayed in front of my eyes. Dull, but still a blade.

My heart seized. My whole body went cold.

Pride kept me from begging. All I could do was pray my father had gotten the signal—and that he'd get here fast.

Just hold on a little longer. A little longer.

I scrambled back until my spine hit the cold wall, watching that blade inch closer.

"Touch me, and my father will destroy you!" My voice cracked, weak and shaking.

Georgia tilted her head, her smile growing wider. "I'll be waiting. But before that happens—you're the one who's screwed."

The box cutter kept lowering. The blade touched the skin of my wrist.

Blood rushed to my head in an instant. Fear drowned my pride, my dignity, everything.

"Wait!" The word tore out of me, my voice trembling beyond control. "I'm sorry! I'll give it to you! The ring—I'll give you the ring!"

But she just shook her head, slow and deliberate.

"Too late."

She pressed down.

The blade sliced across my wrist. The artery split open. Blood sprayed out in a hot rush.

"AHHH—!"

I couldn't hold it in anymore. A scream ripped out of my throat.

She kept cutting. The blade scraped against bone.

I thought my hand was really going to be gone—

BANG!

The gunshot sent everyone in the room diving to the floor, hands over their heads. Georgia dropped the box cutter with a clatter.

The next second, the company doors flew off their hinges—kicked in from the outside.

A figure stormed in, followed by dozens of men in black suits. Every single one of them had a gun drawn, locked and loaded.

The man in front scanned the room, his eyes landing on me—broken, bloody, crumpled against the wall. His face went red in an instant.

"Who the hell dares to lay a hand on my little girl?!"