The Worst Day

The ring on my finger suddenly felt like it was scorching my skin.

I stood frozen in the Blackwell dining room as Damien's mother thrust her phone at me. Seven pairs of eyes—some disgusted, some sympathetic—watched from the shadows cast by the chandelier.

"Well?" The quiet was broken by Patricia Blackwell's voice. "Care to explain these transactions, dear?"

I glanced at the banking data on the screen. My hands shook, my pulse thundering in my ears.

My name. My signature.

Two million dollars were transferred from accounts I had never opened to businesses I had never heard of.

"I don't... These are new to me. My voice sounded too weak and too soft.

"Of course you haven't." I winced at Damien's voice. A stranger was staring back at me when I turned to face my fiancé, the man I had spent two years developing a life with. He had icy blue eyes. "You've never seen the emails you sent to our rivals, for example. or the security video showing you entering my dad's office at two in the morning."

"What?" I hardly spoke the word. "Damien, I never—"

"Enough."

Everyone fell silent as the voice emerged from the head of the table.

With a long, deliberate motion that sent shivers down my spine, Kael Blackwell got up from his chair. I had always felt uneasy around Damien's uncle during family meals. He was too tall, too chilly, and too perceptive. He watched while everyone else chatted and laughed. And he was observing me at the moment as if I were something to be examined.

Kael replied, "The evidence is clear," his steel-gray eyes never leaving my face. "Business espionage. intellectual property theft.

Breach of trust." He picked up a folder from beside his plate and dropped it on the table in front of me. Papers spilled out. Screenshots. Bank statements. Security photos that looked like me but couldn't be me because I'd never done any of this.

"Three months of investigation," he continued. "You've been quite clever, Miss Laurent.

Playing the charming, naive orphan who merely desired to be a member of a family while selling our secrets."

The word "orphan" struck like a blow. He had phrased it as if I was naturally unreliable because of my upbringing in foster care.

"I didn't do this." In a desperate attempt to find someone who might believe me, I glanced around the table. Damien's dad refused to look me in the eye. A contented smile curved his mother's lips. Damien merely gazed at his dish. "You must trust me, please. I was set up by someone.

This isn't real."

"It's real enough for the authorities," Kael said. "We could have you arrested tonight."

My knees nearly gave out. Prison.

He was  talking about prison.

"But we're not going to do that," Patricia remarked as she carefully sipped her wine. "Because we have class, unlike you. We don't discuss our personal problems in public.

"The engagement is over." When Damien finally turned to face me, I wished he hadn't. His eyes were empty.

No love. No doubt. He believed every word they were saying. "I want the ring back."

I could not move. was unable to breathe. I had been organizing the wedding decorations this morning. He was now staring at me as if I were a stranger. As if our two years together had been meaningless.

"Damien, please—"

"The ring, Aria."

My hands fumbled with the princess-cut diamond engagement ring he had placed on my finger while making a lifelong promise to me on a beach at dusk. My knuckle was caught by it. It left a light imprint on my skin after I had to tug and twist it until it eventually came free.

He didn't even remove it from my grasp. His mother picked it up from my palm, as if she were scooping up trash, as he motioned.

"Security will escort you out," Patricia replied. "You have ten minutes to go to Damien's flat and retrieve your belongings. After that, I anticipate that you will totally vanish from our lives.

No press. No social media. No attempts to contact my son. If you do, we'll proceed with criminal charges. Am I clear?"

I couldn't speak.

My throat had completely shut.

"Am I clear?" she said again, raising her voice.

"Yes," I muttered.

"Good girl." She smiled.

"Now get out of my house."

My eyesight became blurry as I turned to face the door, trying not to let the tears fall in front of them. Kael's voice stopped me after I had taken three steps.

"Miss Laurent."

I had no desire to go back. My gut told me to run, to keep moving, to get as far away from these people as I could. I froze, though, because of something in his tone.

"Look at me."

I turned slowly.

As my whole world fell apart, Kael remained calmly standing next to his chair with his hands in his pockets. His look was impenetrable as he watched me for a long time.

"I want you to understand something," he said. "This family worked hard for three generations to build their fortune and integrity.”

People like you—" his eyes raked over me with open contempt "—who try to take shortcuts, who lie and steal and manipulate their way into places they don't belong... You don't get happy endings."

Every statement was like a punch to the body.

"You deserve nothing, so you'll be leaving here tonight with nothing. And I want you to remember that you did this to yourself each morning when you wake up in whatever poor apartment you wind yourself in."

A person at the table chuckled. I suspected it was Damien's younger brother.

"Do you have anything to say?" Kael inquired.

Something inside my chest cracked wide as I met his cold, merciless, gray eyes. These people have it all.

Money. Power. Family.

And they were using it all to ruin me for crimes I didn't commit. This world was unfair. No justice. People without power are simply crushed by those with it.

"I hope you're right," I whispered.

Kael arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I hope the evidence is correct. You're all going to have to live with what you've done to an innocent person if you're wrong—"my voice broke, but I forced the words out anyway." And hopefully that keeps you awake at night."

For a time, the words lingered in the atmosphere.

Then Patricia laughed. Actually laughed. "The girl has spirit, I'll give her that. Shame she's also a criminal."

With a wave of his hand, Kael dismissed me as if I were a servant. "Security is waiting," he said. "Don't make this more embarrassing than it already is."

I raised my head and tightened my fists to keep my hands from trembling as I left that dining room. During my visit to the Blackwell estate, I had smiled at two security guards a hundred times, but today they were flanking me as if I were a threat. They led me out the front door into the chilly night air, past the family photos I'd wanted to be added to someday, and into the marble halls where I'd imagined my future children playing.

With a last click, the door closed behind me.

At last, I allowed myself to cry as I stood on the steps of the Blackwell mansion, which I had thought of as a second home. I sobbed so hard that my entire body trembled. Everything was gone.

My fiancé. My future. My reputation.

How was I going to fight those who had limitless resources and money? Who would trust the influential Blackwell family over an orphan with no family and no connections?

In my pocket, my phone buzzed. My foster sister Sophie texted me, saying, "Can't wait for your wedding!" You will be the most stunning bride in history!

I gazed at the message until the words became hazy.

I had to keep her safe from this. I had to make sure she was unaffected by this scandal.

Which meant disappearing, just like Patricia Blackwell had ordered. I'd become invisible. Survive somehow. And attempt to find out who had ruined my life and why.

As I walked down the long driveway, away from the illuminated windows and the family who had just thrown me out like trash, the night air cut my flesh.

This was only the beginning, as I was unaware at the time.

I would receive a message six weeks later that would completely alter my life.

After six weeks, I would receive an irresistible offer from Kael Blackwell.

The actual nightmare would then begin.