Chapter 4

Blake finished dressing and stepped in front of me, holding my clothes in his hands like he intended to help me put them on.

"Come with me, honey."

He paused, voice low but steady. "Leila's parents saved my life. I can't just turn my back on their only daughter. Please come with me. Afterward, you can yell at me, hit me—whatever you want."

I froze for a moment, startled by his words, then pushed him away and dressed myself in silence.

"Let's go," I said, not sparing him a glance as I walked out the door, my face cold.

I hadn't taken more than a few steps when I felt a sudden warmth around my hand. I tried shaking it off, twice, but he wouldn't let go. I glared at him, clearly annoyed.

"Slow down, honey. It's dark."

Ignoring my anger completely, Blake kept his grip firm as he guided us toward the Burgman household.

Since the Burgman family elders had passed away, the army had taken care of Leila, letting her live alone in a large compound. Tonight, it was surrounded by people.

The first to spot her missing was Kristen Marx, who rushed over holding a note, her face lined with worry.

The note said: Blake, I don't want to be a burden anymore. I'm going to join my parents.

Blake's brows furrowed as he read the note. Without hesitation, he began issuing orders, directing everyone to split up and search.

Soon, voices calling out "Leila!" echoed across the island, especially along the shoreline.

Worried something might have truly happened, I joined the search, though I wasn't familiar with this coastal place. I figured the beaches were already swarming with people, so I decided to comb through the more hidden nooks and corners.

That's when I unexpectedly stumbled across something.

Leila turned, thrilled at the sound of footsteps, but the smile fell from her face the moment she saw me.

"You? What are you doing here? Where's Blake?"

Standing atop a rocky outcrop, Leila looked like a painting of resentment.

I let out a small, mocking laugh. "Really? Throwing your life away for a man who doesn't even see you? Is that worth it?"

Her face flushed red, then turned pale. She bit her lip hard before speaking. "What do you know? Blake and I grew up together. My family saved his life. If it weren't for you barging in, I would've been his wife!"

I let out a cold chuckle. "Oh please. If he actually cared about you, there wouldn't have been room for me to 'barge in,' would there? And let's not forget—we were engaged before we were even born. If we're talking about who came first, you don't even make the list. So listen carefully: he was never yours, and he never will be. Blake is my man."

I took a step closer, my voice sharper now. "But if I ever find out he's entertaining other thoughts, I'll break his legs and hand him over to you. Then you two can be miserable together. Not sure you'd even want that, though."

With that, I turned to leave. I'd found her—safe, not suicidal. Just another girl throwing a dramatic tantrum. I didn't have time to waste playing along.

But before I could take another step, she yanked me back and leaned in close, whispering in my ear, "Tell me, if the two of us fell into the sea at the same time, who do you think Blake would save?"

Before I could respond, she suddenly shoved me—hard.

Completely unprepared, I plunged into the cold, salty sea, swallowing mouthfuls of brine.

"Help! Blake, save me!" she screamed.