Kiva’s POV

If Samatha knew whose daughter she was mocking now, she wouldn’t be smiling at all.

I ignored her and focused on my meal. But that seemed to irritate her more.

Samatha stood a minute later and approached me, wineglass in hand. “Kiva, right?”

I looked up but say a word.

Samatha leaned closer. “I know you’re not his cousin. You’re his ex. Still, I’m willing to give you some money. Because honestly? Look at you. I pity you.”

The word pity hit harder than I expected.

After the accident, everyone looked at me with it. I hated being pitied more than anything in the world.

“Is that so?” I asked quietly.

Samatha’s smile faltered—just for a second, then she recovered.

“Will ten thousand be enough?” Her gaze swept over me. “Or is that too much? Maybe a thousand is safer. You could buy bread every day. That should last you a while.”

I didn’t look away. “I thought people like you could afford more than that. What—did your father not give you enough allowance, so you had to marry yourself off to a man like Caelen?”

“You—” Samantha’s face twisted. “I don’t understand why a cripple like you thinks she can talk to me this way. I could crush you like an ant. Do you know that?”

Slowly, deliberately, she tipped her glass.

Wine spilled down over my hair, my shoulders—dripping, soaking.

“Like this,” Samatha smiled softly. “Bit by bit. Until your life is ruined.”

I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my own glass and flung it straight into her face.

Samantha screamed. “Bitch!”

“Samantha!”

Caelen and Marnie rushed over at once. Marnie shrieked and overturned an entire bucket of ice water over me. “How dare you treat my daughter-in-law like this, you crippled, useless woman!”

“Mom!” Caelen grabbed her arm, trying to stop her—but she was already lunging forward, eyes wild.

“I’ve endured you long enough!” she shouted. “Hasn’t my son taken care of you for years? Why can’t you just let him be happy? Why do you always ruin everything, you crippled freak?”

I barely recognized her.

This was the same woman who once wheeled me through the park in the sunshine. Who smiled at me like I was family. She reminded me of my own mother—that was why I trusted Caelen and helped him more than I should.

Now she was unrecognizable.

“How did you even get into this restaurant?” Marnie went on. “Did you use my son’s money? So you’re not just crippled and useless—you’re a gold digger too? Is this what he worked so hard for? So you could eat and sleep in places you don’t deserve?”

Marnie’s words tore at every raw place inside me. But I didn’t look at her. I kept my eyes on Caelen, searching his face for anything—guilt, shame, even the smallest trace of decency.

Say something, Caelen, I begged silently. Stop them. Don’t let them turn my pain into a joke. I deserve better than this.

But the only thing Caelen did was to hold Marnie back… and let her keep going.

I sat through ten straight minutes of Marnie’s shouting. She didn’t stop until the waiter returned.

“If this kind of place lets freaks like her in,” Samantha snapped, “then we won’t be dining here again.”

She shoved Caelen aside and stormed out. He and Marnie followed without a glance back.

Samantha had a stain. I was drenched, wine and ice water dripping down my blouse, pooling beneath my wheelchair.

“Oh my, Miss Crowe—what happened?” The manager had just stepped in, alarmed.

“Nothing.” I took the towel from the waiter and began drying my hair, my voice calm. “Wheel me back to my suite.”

“Miss Crowe…” The manager hesitated, stepping in to push me gently toward the doors. “If those guests did this to you, we can remove them from the property immediately. Just say the word.”

Remove them? How generous.

I looked straight ahead. “That’s alright,” I said softly. “I’ll let you know if I want that.”

…

For the next two days, I enjoyed everything the villa offered its most elite guests. I kept my distance from Caelen and his mother. I had no interest in crossing paths with them again.

When Saturday came, Caelen showed up at my suite.

“Samantha wants to leave early,” he said. “And you know I promised to take you back to New York. Do you want to come with us?”

I nodded. “Give me a few minutes to pack. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

Of course, I had no intention of leaving with Caelen.

The money transfer had gone through yesterday. And since luxury hotels didn’t charge until checkout—just froze the card on arrival—I figured it’d be fun to watch Caelen panic later, making a fool of himself when he realized he couldn’t even pay his room bill.

After Caelen left, I called my father and had his helicopter prepped. Once the show was over, I planned to leave straight from the villa.

When I reached the lobby, I didn’t even have to look around to know where Caelen was.

“Swipe it again!” he shouted. “There’s nothing wrong with my card—your machine is broken!”

I wheeled closer and saw him yelling at the front desk staff.

“Sir, please lower your voice,” the lobby manager said calmly. “I can try again, but our system is functioning normally. You may want to contact your bank.”

“You—”

“Enough,” Samantha snapped, yanking him back. “Haven’t you embarrassed us enough? Call the bank.”

Caelen’s face flushed. He pulled out his phone, hesitated, then dialed.

Kiva’s POV

After two minutes, I watched as the color drained from Caelen’s face.

“What do you mean sixty percent?” he hissed. “No—don’t close the casino. What about my other accounts? The offshore one?” A pause. “Then my credit card?”

His grip tightened around the phone. Finally, he snapped. “Then what the hell do I pay you for? I’m in the middle of checking out!”

He hung up.

Samantha was already watching him, suspicion written all over her face.

So there really wasn’t enough money left.

Last night, I’d made a small suggestion to the casino’s finance team as that secret investor—nothing dramatic. Just that if cash flow dipped too low, they could temporarily draw from Caelen’s personal accounts. After all, the business had to keep running.

Now Caelen had a choice: save his casino… or pay for the hotel.

I had to admit—it was fascinating to watch.

“Babe,” Caelen said carefully, lowering his voice, “Could you maybe use your dad’s card this time? My manager said my funds are temporarily locked for a recount.”

Samantha’s expression hardened instantly.

“What do you mean I pay?” she snapped. “Didn’t you invite me here? Caelen, don’t tell me that right after I accepted your proposal, you expect me to cover everything.”

Her voice wasn’t loud—but it carried. The entire lobby went quiet.

“Of course not,” Caelen rushed. “It’s just this once. I won’t let you pay for anything in the future.”

That only made it worse.

“You told me your casino was thriving,” she said sharply. “You said another big deal was about to close. Don’t tell me now you don’t even have a few thousand in your account.”

That was the one thing Caelen couldn’t stand—being mocked for money.

His face darkened. “What kind of fiancée refuses to help her future husband?” he shot back. “I’m not asking you to hand over your father’s empire.”

And just like that, the argument exploded.

Caelen shouted at the front desk. The manager threatened to call the police for nonpayment. Samantha hurled accusations, bitter and loud, declaring she wouldn’t marry him anymore.

I sat there quietly and watched everything Caelen had built unravel—one bitter argument at a time.

It was pure chaos.

In the middle of it all, Samantha suddenly glanced my way and let out a cold laugh.

“Look, your pathetic ex is still here,” she sneered. “No wonder you dated a cripple before, Caelen. Makes sense now. You’re broke, she’s broke. Perfect match.”

Caelen turned his fury on me. “Don’t even think about putting your hotel charges on my bill. I’m not paying for your over-the-top luxury suite.”

I met his eyes, then let my gaze flick briefly to Samantha behind him.

“Don’t worry,” I said simply. “I’ve already got it covered.”

A flicker of uncertainty passed through Caelen’s eyes. After a beat, he stepped closer, his voice dropping low. “What do you mean, you’ve got it covered? I said, don’t even think about putting your extravagant room fees on me. I booked you a room, and you upgraded it without telling me.”

He turned to the hotel manager. “Is that why my bill’s higher than expected? Did you charge her room to my card? I’m not paying for her.”

“Mr. Blackwell,” the hotel manager stepped forward, composed and professional. “Miss Crowe’s room has already been handled. As for your card, I’ve processed it again. It still hasn’t gone through.”

Samantha’s eyes narrowed as she walked toward Caelen. “Did you secretly pay for her room and now you’re putting on a show for me? Quit the games. Tell her to give you the money back, or consider this over.”

Caelen mumbled, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t give her any money…”

“Then why won’t your card work?” Samantha spun on her heel, closing the distance between us. “Where the hell did your money go? Bitch, where did you hide Caelen’s money? Is this some kind of trap to make me pay for everything? Did he give you his savings?”

“Babe, I swear I didn’t…” Caelen reached for Samantha’s hand, but she shoved him away.

“Gosh, Caelen, do you really think this is working? I wondered why you brought your crippled ex along on our vacation. You brought her here so she could drain you dry, and now I have to pay for everything, right? Do you think I’m that much of a fool?”

Caelen lowered his voice. “Samatha, you know me better than that. I brought her here because I felt sorry for her, not for anything else. I don’t even love her anymore.”

They spoke as though I wasn’t even in the room. It stung. But what stung more was how, even now, with their money running out and the police waiting, they still blamed me.

Samantha jabbed a finger at me. “Prove it, Caelen. Otherwise, I won’t believe that you didn’t bring her here, pay for her everything, then cry about being broke.”

“How am I supposed to prove it?” Caelen asked, his voice strained.

“Leave her here,” Samantha said coldly. “Tell the manager to leave her here as collateral for our room. We’ll figure it out later.”

Caelen’s voice dropped. “Leave her here…”

After a moment, he lifted his gaze, steady and cold, and turned to the manager. “What do you think? She’s with me. Since I’m having trouble with payment, can I leave her here with you until I come back and pay up?”

“Leave her here?” The manager furrowed his brows, clearly taken aback.

“Yes,” Caelen sneered. “You can have her do whatever. Wash dishes, do laundry… She’s good at that kind of thing.”

The manager blinked, stunned. “Well, we’re not that kind of hotel, Mr. Blackwell. And it’s the 21st century—no…”

Caelen stepped closer, cutting him off. “Are you an idiot? I didn’t mean actually make her do dishes. Maybe you could…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but I saw it in the way his lips moved.

Sell her.

I didn’t flinch. “How is it I never saw you for the scumbag you are, Caelen?” I said softly.

“Scumbags?” Caelen turned. “Like you’re any better than me? You were a useless freeloader. If I hadn’t taken care of you all these years, where would you even be? Dead in a ditch somewhere?”

He was fully unraveling now, no longer caring who was listening. “I offered to be with Samantha and still take care of you. But no. You just had to show up and ruin everything.”

Then came the final blow. “I should’ve sold you off when I had the chance myself. To some rich creep with a wheelchair kink.”

The moment the words left his mouth, the lobby went dead silent.

Then the whispers began.

“Did he really just talk about selling people? Is he some kind of mobster?”

“So he was with the woman in the wheelchair first? Then why did he propose to that other woman?”

“So now that he’s broke, he thinks he can leave his ex to pay for everything he enjoyed?”

“What a mess…”

“Disgusting.”

“Even if she’s in a wheelchair, he can’t treat her like that. It’s not like she chose to be disabled.”

“Men always do that—pick women like they’re accessories.”

Caelen’s face twisted as the murmurs grew louder. “It wasn’t like that!” he shouted at the crowd.

Then he turned back to me, eyes wild. “Do this for me, and we’ll call it even, Kiva. Otherwise, don’t think this is over. I’ll come after you for every cent I invested in you these past few years.”

“Is that so?” I met his gaze, perfectly calm. “Then maybe we should talk about how you plan to pay me back.”

“What are you talking about—” He didn’t get to finish.

A guard in a black suit stepped forward. “Miss Knox,” He said to me with a respectful nod, “Your helicopter has arrived. The Don said he’ll meet you in London.”

Caelen froze. So did Samantha.

“Helicopter?” Caelen echoed.

“Miss Knox?” Samantha repeated, her voice suddenly much quieter.