Claire's voice cracked by the last few words. I hadn’t even processed what she was implying when Lucas stepped forward and helped her up. When he turned to look at me, his gaze carried something new—hatred.“This has nothing to do with Claire,” he said sharply. “Why would you treat her like that?”The accusation came out of nowhere.“I didn’t—”“You really were spoiled rotten, weren’t you?” he cut me off. “So spoiled you think the world should bend to you.”Before I could even respond, someone nearby stepped up with an overly eager smile, holding out a gift box.“Mr. Whitmore, a little something to celebrate your engagement to Miss Meyer—”Before he finished, Lucas snatched the box and hurled it at me.“Destiny,” he growled, “apologize to Claire.”“If you don’t, I’ll call off the engagement. I don’t care if the Whitmores aren’t as powerful as the Meyers, I will not marry an evil woman like you!”...The box was beautifully wrapped, but one sharp corner sliced my chin open as
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