The voices cut through me like knives.

“I didn’t steal,” I begged, clutching the golden locket tightly in my trembling hands. “I just wanted to look at it. Please—it’s mine. It belonged to my grandmother. I only wanted to see if it was the same one… and buy it.”

But my words were drowned out by cruel laughter.

“She’s delusional!” someone sneered.

“Pathetic!” another voice spat.

“Look at her, clinging to something she could never afford.”

The crowd gathered closer, their judgment merciless. My cheeks burned as the whispers turned to shouts. Someone pointed at my necklace.

“Those jewels she’s wearing—they’re fake! All of them!”

Another hand grabbed at my wrist, yanking the bracelet Jackson had once given me. “Knock-off,” the woman sneered, tossing it aside.

And then came the first throw. A piece of bread. Then a glass of wine. Then plates, scraps of food, whatever they could grab. All hurled at me as if I were nothing more than garbage.

I searched the crowd desperately for Jackson. For his face. For his hand to reach out and stop this nightmare.

But he stood still. Silent. Pretending not to know me.

That hurt more than anything else.

The humiliation dragged me out of the hall. They shoved me, kicked me, tossed me aside until I collapsed on the cold pavement outside the auction house. My dress was torn, my skin bruised, and my heart… utterly shattered.

No one came. No one cared.

And yet, as I lay there, a memory surfaced—sharp and cruel in its contrast. Years ago, in a crowded marketplace, a stranger once accused me of stealing a loaf of bread. I had frozen in fear, too poor to defend myself, too small to fight back. But Jackson had been there. He stood in front of me, his arm shielding me from the crowd, his voice fierce as he declared my innocence. Back then, he had fought for me. Protected me from humiliation.

But tonight? Tonight he had turned away. Pretended I didn’t exist.

We truly lived in different worlds now.

I dragged myself to my feet, limping through the streets until the glowing sign of a pawnshop came into view. My hands shook as I pulled off the necklace, the rings, the bracelets Jackson had given me over the years. All the gifts I thought symbolized his love.

“Please,” I whispered to the clerk. “Check them for me. Tell me if they’re real.”

The man examined each piece with practiced eyes, his expression hardening. He pushed them back across the counter. “All fake. Worthless imitations.”

My knees buckled.

That was it. The last straw.

Everything—our love, his promises, the trinkets I held onto so desperately—nothing but lies.

I left the pawnshop with empty hands, empty heart, and a decision. I was truly done. This relationship can’t be saved anymore.

I walked to the police station, forcing myself to stand tall despite the pain. “I’d like to report what happened tonight,” I said, my voice steady though my insides trembled. “They accused me falsely. They humiliated me. They—”

The officer’s face was unreadable as he took my statement, but even as I spoke, a voice in my head whispered that it wouldn’t matter. Not against them. Not against Jackson’s world.

That night, back home, I tried to rest. Two more days, I told myself. Just two more days and I’d disappear.

But the door slammed open.

Jackson stormed in, fury radiating from him. Before I could rise, his hand struck my cheek with a force that knocked me back against the bed.

“Are you really trying to embarrass me?!” he roared. “You dare file a case against those people after you tried to steal?!”

Tears stung my eyes. “I wasn’t stealing, Jackson—I swear! I just wanted to look at it. It was my grandmother’s locket—”

“Shut up!” His voice cut through me. “You have no right. You can’t win. You don’t have the money to fight this case. So drop it! Enough embarrassment already! You’re just a useless bitch, do you hear me? I regret bringing you here. I should have left you in that scrappy apartment where you belonged.”

My tears finally fell, hot and unstoppable, trailing down my bruised skin. For a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes—regret, maybe even guilt.

But before I could speak, another voice cut through the tension.

“Jackson.”

His mother stood in the doorway, her presence commanding. Nathalia’s expression was calm, but her eyes glittered with quiet cruelty.

“Don’t be too harsh on her,” she said smoothly. “She’s hurt and embarrassed.”

She approached me, her heels clicking against the marble floor. “Don’t worry, Cassandra. Just cancel the case, and I’ll pay for the locket. You can have it back. After all, it was your grandmother’s, wasn’t it?”

“Mom, stop spoiling her. She’ll think she deserves more. Next thing you know, she’ll become a gold digger.”

He turned to me, eyes sharp once more. “Don’t embarrass me again, Cassandra. If you do, the wedding won’t happen.” Then he left, the slam of the door echoing through the hollow space he’d left behind.

I sat frozen, staring at the ground, until Nathalia leaned closer.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking it back so hard I gasped.

“You better be gone before the wedding,” she whispered into my ear, her voice laced with venom. Of course, she was just pretending a while ago. “Because my son never deserved you. If you dare to embarrass this family again, you’ll be dead.”

She shoved me down, my body hitting the cold floor. The emerald necklace around my throat gleamed mockingly as she turned and walked out, leaving me crumpled and trembling in the dark.

Later that night, my phone buzzed.

Through blurry eyes, I reached for it, hoping it was my friend. Hoping it was anyone who still remembered me.

But it wasn’t.

The call was from an unknown number.

“Hey, Miss Cassandra. I’m Ryle, Jackson’s greatest rival. What do you say about marrying me instead?”

I froze, gripping the phone tighter. I didn’t know him, not truly. All I knew was that Jackson hated him with a passion so deep it turned his voice sharp whenever his name was mentioned. And maybe that was enough.

Because if Jackson despised him, then perhaps Ryle was the perfect person to ruin him with.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. My voice was steady, but inside, my chest burned. “Well… maybe you should be the one to pick me up then?”

He chuckled, low and confident. “Sure. I’d do a runaway bride any day.”

I exhaled, a shaky laugh escaping me. “See you tomorrow then,” I whispered, before ending the call.

My chest tightened—not from fear, but from something darker. Revenge.

And then I froze.

Jackson was standing at the doorway, his eyes narrowed.

“Who were you talking to?”

My heart raced, but my lips curved into a practiced calm. “My friend, Lina. You know her, right? She’s attending our wedding.”

Jackson studied me for a moment, then nodded. “About that…” He paused, his tone too casual. “I think we might have to postpone the wedding.”

The words hit me like a stone to the chest. “What?”

He sighed, stepping further into the room. “I need to cancel for now. A business trip came up. Once I’m back, I’ll be with you. How about that?”

I forced my lips into a smile, even as my throat burned. “Sure.”

“You’re not mad?”

I shook my head slowly. “No, not really. I understand.”

He reached out, brushing my hair back, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry… for everything. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Would you like me to pack for you?” I asked softly, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.

He smiled faintly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

That night, I folded his shirts, arranged his ties, and zipped his luggage. When he finally left, kissing my forehead like a man who still believed he was loved, I remained behind, alone in the silence of the penthouse.

I tried to distract myself with chores, cleaning, rearranging—anything to silence the ache. That was when I noticed his laptop on the desk, still open.

I shouldn’t look. I knew I shouldn’t. But my curiosity burned stronger than my restraint.

And when I clicked, the screen lit up with an email.

“Wedding Confirmation – Maldives.”

The names read clearly. Jackson & Ivy.

For a moment, the world tilted.

Then I laughed. A bitter, hollow laugh that echoed through the empty room. “So much for business trips,” I whispered.

My phone buzzed again. This time, a message from Ivy.

It was a picture—her lips pressed against Jackson’s, his hands tangled in her hair. A caption below: “Here’s your fiancé. Doesn’t he look happier with me?”

I stared at the screen, my chest hollow. Then, with one swift move, I blocked the number. Enough.

The next morning, Jackson’s message arrived like nothing had happened. “I’ll buy you something when I come back. See you soon.”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I pulled my coat tighter around me and walked toward the door.

The butler looked up. “Madam, may I ask where you’re going?”

“I’m buying something for the wedding,” I lied smoothly. “I’ll take a taxi.”

I left my luggage in the corner deliberately. If Jackson’s men were watching, they wouldn’t suspect anything. Let them think I was still here, still waiting.

But around the corner, a sleek black limousine was waiting.

The window rolled down, and there he was. Ryle.

His grin was sharp, dangerous, yet oddly comforting. “Ready to be my bride?”

For a moment, fear flickered through me. I didn’t know this man. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. But I knew one thing—anything was better than the cage I had lived in with Jackson.

So I nodded. “I’m ready.”

The door opened, and I slid inside. Hours later, we boarded his private plane. The engines roared to life, and as the ground shrank beneath us, I took out my phone one last time.

I stared at Jackson’s name on the screen, the endless texts I had once cherished. Then I removed the SIM card, my hands steady.

With a final flick, I tossed it into the trash bin beside me.

“Goodbye, Jackson,” I whispered. “Goodbye to everything.”

Jackson’s POV

I couldn’t sit still. My feet wore grooves into the marble floor as I paced back and forth. Cassandra wasn’t replying. Was she mad about the wedding and just lied to me?

“Jackson,” Ivy’s voice purred behind me. I felt her hand snake across my arm, her lips brushing against my shoulder. “Why are you wasting your time? She’s probably sulking again. We have a wedding to—”

I pulled away sharply. “Don’t.”

Her brows arched, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Don’t what? Don’t remind you that I’m here? That I’m the one by your side?” She laughed softly, pressing closer. “Why pretend? You and I—we’ve always fit better.”

I turned on her, my voice hard. “Don’t twist this, Ivy. You know damn well this is just business. Nothing more. I’m still marrying Cassandra.”

She chuckled, low and mocking. “Serious? You want to keep her? Come on, Jackson, she’s nothing. You even hurt her for me, remember? You made her feel worthless. And now you’re telling me you still want her?”

The memory of Cassandra’s tear-streaked face flashed before me, unbidden. My jaw clenched.

“I told you,” I muttered, each word heavy. “This is business. I’ll do what I must, but I’m not leaving her.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, leaning back against the sofa with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Keep your little charity case. Just don’t expect her to survive in your world.”

I ignored her, turning my attention back to my phone. My thumb hovered over the screen, but the truth hit me like a blow to the chest. Cassandra’s name had vanished from my list. Blocked.

“What the hell…” I whispered, a cold dread curling in my gut.

I dialed the butler’s number, my voice sharp when he answered. “Where’s Cassandra? Why is she not answering her phone? It’s been a day! Tell her to call me!”

There was hesitation on the other end. Then the butler’s voice. “I’m sorry, sir. She left yesterday… but she never came back home.”