Chapter 6

Elena's POV

I didn't want to see that cold, contemptuous look again. I just closed my eyes.

"Young Master Adrian, if you'd like to give Miss Vicky a gift, there are plenty of choices here."

"But I've already paid for this brooch. It's mine."

“It's mine.”

I'd said those words so many times.

The servants were always taking my things. More than once the Princess had seen it, and never lifted a finger.

She'd probably understood, earlier than anyone, that Adrian didn't love me. That was why she'd opposed the engagement from the start.

Young as I was then, I refused to believe it. I thought Adrian couldn't live without me, that I couldn't live without him, and I clung to that to the death.

But within five years of my mother's death, Adrian recovered, and proved her right.

I lifted my eyes and looked at him, coldly, without a trace of love.

The more plainly I laid it out, the more I forced myself to watch the two of them wrapped around each other, the clearer my head became.

Adrian despised me for being human, and turned all his gentleness, all his manners, on my stepsister.

After every banquet, the servants brought back their whispers.

Alone in my room, I could always hear them gossiping at the door.

Adrian hit it off well with Vicky at the banquet. When they crossed paths, he'd greet her.

They all said that if he'd been betrothed to Vicky instead of me, the dull elder daughter of the Valerie family, things might have turned out completely different.

We shared a father but not a mother, and yet she looked so much like me.

That had always been the thorn in my heart.

If I hadn't slipped home on the anniversary of my mother's death, I'd never have seen that infant in my father's arms, the one he was rocking so tenderly.

I hadn't even known he'd built a new family.

Back then, Adrian had snuck out with me, held me, and said he would marry me, that he would be my family, that I shouldn't grieve.

Only now did I understand.

He'd been lying to me all along.

Those careless promises, I never should have believed.

Adrian saw the coldness in my eyes, and his expression tightened.

"How much is this brooch? Where did you get the money?"

I didn't answer. He turned his glare on the shop owner, who went rigid with fear.

"Young Master Adrian, the brooch is thirty million. Miss Elena paid for it a month ago—"

At the price, something flickered in Adrian's eyes.

But his face only went darker.

"Elena. Where did you get thirty million?"

I lifted the corner of my mouth, about to answer, when Vicky cut in.

"My sister's marrying the Lord of the North. Of course she's not short on money."

Adrian's grip tightened on the brooch. I lunged forward to snatch it, and he caught my wrist.

I fought him, hard, and only left my wrist ringed with red.

"You'd marry someone else for thirty million?"

His eyes had gone bloodshot. He pinned me with the question, low.

"You're already betrothed to me. Where do you think you can run off to?"

I stopped struggling. At those words, a cold smile rose to my lips.

"What does it have to do with you where I’m to marry?"

My reflection crossed his eyes, and something there flinched, stung.

"Adrian, it's been so long and we still aren't married. I know you think I'm not good enough for you, that you don't want to marry me."

I said it all with that cold smile fixed in place.

My chest felt hollow. I couldn't feel a trace of pain.

"So it's fine. I'll leave on my own. You don't have to drive me out."

Adrian's grip turned crushing. He was rattled, and it came out almost before he could think. "If it's about money, I'll give you thirty million. You are not marrying anyone else!"

I looked up at him, unable to tell whether he was mocking me or actually trying to keep me.

So I shook my head and stared back, cold.

"And what if it is about money?"

"Even if I sold myself for money, I'd never sell myself to you."

That, finally, enraged him. He let go of my wrist.

I stumbled, dodged the hand he instinctively reached out to steady me, and stood alone, facing the two of them.

"Sir, I'll give you forty million. Sell me the brooch."

Adrian tossed the brooch carelessly onto the counter. "Wrap it up for me."

My throat seized. I turned to the owner.

His eyes were full of fear. Terrified of offending so high a customer, he could only give me an apologetic look.

"I'm so sorry, Miss. I'll refund every cent, and compensate you besides—"

"I don't want compensation. I want this brooch!"

I cut him off, sharp, and looked back at Adrian, hatred rising in me before I could stop it.

"Do you really despise me that much?"

The words tore out of me at him.

"I've already walked away on my own. Why do you still have to humiliate me?"

The tears I couldn't hold back slid down my face.

I saw Adrian freeze, while I clumsily tried to hide my tears.

I lowered my head. A handkerchief of ivory white, held in a warm, elegant hand, appeared before me.

"My lady. I've found you at last."

"Don't cry. I'm here."

I looked up, into a pair of smiling eyes.