I was done talking.

I pulled out my phone and called the security desk. “Get over here. I have intruders at my place.”

Reyna’s eyes widened. She gave a vicious flick of her wrist, letting go of the leash. “You bitch. That’s what you get for going against me!”

The massive dog lunged at me before I had a chance to react. It tackled me to the floor and sank its teeth into my arm. The pain was blinding. Blood soaked my sleeve as I struggled beneath it, trying to break free. My screams echoed through the hall.

Reyna clapped her hands in delight. She was laughing.

I finally managed to push the dog off and stagger to my feet, arm dripping blood, my body trembling from pain. But before I could even catch my breath, the security team burst in.

Only—they grabbed me.

“What the hell are you doing?! I live here!” I shouted, struggling against their grip. “You should be arresting her! She broke into this place and let her dog attack me!”

One of the guards didn’t even flinch. He just gave me a flat look as he dragged me toward the door.

“We received a report from Miss Hawke about a trespasser disturbing the peace. She instructed us to escort you out.”

By then, the commotion had drawn out a small crowd. Neighbors leaned against doorframes, murmuring like this was the hottest gossip of the year.

“Is that girl crazy? She tried to pick a fight with Reyna Hawke?” an older woman whispered loudly. “Does she not know that Miss Hawke is Mr. Rhodes’ childhood sweetheart? The most important woman in his life?”

“Did she say she lives here?” a man chimed in. “This apartment was clearly a gift from Mr. Rhodes for her to use until the wedding. Bold of her to say that.”

“So what if Miss Hawke decorate the place to look like a funeral hall?” a young woman scoffed. “Can’t that other woman just be mature about it? I mean, why risk throwing away a marriage to the Rhodes Family over a decorations?” A girl chimed in. 

Reyna folded her arms across her chest and smirked like the queen of the castle.

“You hear that? I’ll give you one more chance. Get on your knees, apologize and admit you were wrong. Maybe then I’ll forgive you.”

“If not,” she sneered, “you can kiss your wedding goodbye.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “You're the one in the wrong here. Not me. I’ll say it once more—get out. Take your workers and your dog and get out of—”

Before I could even finish, she slapped me across the face.

“Still running that mouth?” she hissed, slapping me again. You really don’t know your place."

I flinched but didn’t strike back. Not because I was afraid—but because the agency had drilled it into me: no physical altercations with civilians. Period.

This was personal. I wasn’t about to throw my entire career away over some rich girl’s temper tantrum.

I twisted out of the security guard’s grip and raised a hand to block her next slap. But before I could grab her, something slammed into my back. Hard.

I went flying, crashing into the corner of the cabinet. Stars burst in my vision. My shoulder screamed in pain.

Then I heard the voice.

“Touch her again and I swear you’ll regret it. “ 

I looked up, clutching my arm. A group of black-suited bodyguards had stormed in. And in the center of them stood a man.

Tall. Imposing. Impeccably dressed in a designer suit. His expression was unreadable as he marched straight toward Reyna.

“Are you okay?” he asked Reyna, his voice low and commanding. “I heard someone was giving you trouble. Who’s the idiot who thought that was a good idea?”

Reyna spun around and pointed at me with a fake pout.

He followed her gaze. Our eyes locked. His were cold, detached. Then I realized he was Marshall Rhodes.

I took a shaky breath and tried to reason.

“You must be Marshall,” I said, my voice unsteady. “I’m Liora Bennett. The fiancée your grandfather arranged for you. I was the one who called earlier. Reyna was just—”

“Shut up.”

His voice sliced through the room like a whip. His brows were drawn in a hard line of irritation. “I don’t care what happened. I don’t care who you are.”

He stepped forward.

“Kneel. Apologize to Reyna. Right now.”

His words left me speechless. I let out a disbelieving laugh.

This wedding had been arranged by his family. By name, I was his fiancée. And yet, without knowing a damn thing about what had just happened, he was demanding I get on my knees and apologize?

“Marshall,” I said calmly, though my voice trembled, “we may not know each other well and I get that you care more about Reyna than you ever will about me—but legally, I’m still your fiancée. Don’t you think I deserve at least a little respect?”

I looked him straight in the eye. “She attacked me first. And instead of asking what happened, you automatically assumed I was at fault. Why?”

“Why?” He scoffed, repeating the word like it was a joke. “Because you're a conniving woman who manipulates everything to get her way. If it weren’t for my grandfather making my inheritance conditional on marrying you, I wouldn’t waste another second on you. A nobody from some backwater town, thinking she can claw her way into high society. You make me sick.”

His gaze dropped to the mud stains still clinging to my field clothes.

"Don’t think for a second that being engaged to me gives you the right to disrespect the people I care about. If you upset Reyna again, I’ll have you thrown out of the Rhodes Family so fast you won’t know what hit you."

I stared at him, stunned.

I stared at him in disbelief. “Let me make this clear, Marshall…this marriage? I never wanted it.”

“Oh, spare me the hard-to-get act,” Reyna jumped in, laughing smugly. “If Marshall actually dumped you, you’d come crawling back, begging for another chance.”

“Marrying into the Rhodes Family is the best thing that’ll ever happen to you, sweetheart,” she added, smug. “You must be out of your mind to throw it away.”

The two of them stood there, acting like they were doing me a favor.

I laughed.

“The Rhodes are nothing. I didn’t even know who you people were before this ridiculous arrangement. Do you think every woman on Earth is lining up, desperate to marry into your dysfunctional dynasty?” 

Gasps rippled from the crowd outside the doorway.

“Did she seriously just say that?” a middle-aged woman whispered, eyes wide. “Does she not know they’re one of the richest families in the country?”

“She must be out of her mind. Who in their right mind would turn down a marriage into the Rhodes Family?” a younger woman scoffed. “They offered her the wedding, bought her this house and she throws a tantrum over some weird decorations?”

“Exactly,” another woman, about the same age, chimed in. “Why not just let Miss Hawke blow off some steam? She could’ve fixed it all after the wedding. Honestly, this girl’s being completely irrational.”

These people. What is wrong with them? So what if the Rhodes Family was rich? None of them knew the truth. The Rhodes Family’s wealth came from government contracts. 

Ten years ago, they’d secured the ten-year rights to a research project developed by our lab. That deal brought them an easy fortune and years of smooth sailing. But that contract was set to expire in just a month. If they failed to get it renewed, all that shine and prestige would disappear overnight.

That was why Wilfred Rhodes, despite his age, had been making daily trips to our institute—smiling, bowing, kissing up to every higher-up he could find, trying to lock down an extension. He knew I was the project lead. He also knew I was single. So he parked himself outside my office, day after day, trying to sweet-talk me into “considering” his grandson.

When I didn’t fall for it, he went straight to my mother. Said all the right things, made promises and convinced her to lock in the marriage before I could say no.

Truth be told, the match was mutually beneficial. From a business standpoint, if I married into the Rhodes Family, it would stabilize their investment interests in the country and give our research more exposure. The higher-ups were still watching, still waiting to see if the Rhodes Family would be worth a long-term partnership.

But now…

Wilfred’s carefully orchestrated plan was going down in flames, thanks to his spoiled grandson.

My silence, while I sorted through all of this in my head, must’ve looked like hesitation.

Marshall crossed his arms and sneered. “I’m giving you one last chance. Get on your knees and apologize to Reyna. Or I’m calling off the wedding.”

I looked him dead in the eye.

“Fine,” I said. “Let’s cancel the wedding.” 

Both of them just stood there, completely stunned. Especially Marshall, whose face twisted in disbelief. Maybe it was the first time a woman he considered beneath him had publicly rejected him. Or maybe he’d finally realized that if I really refused to go through with the wedding, Wilfred might just revoke his right to inherit everything.

But Reyna? Her eyes lit up like Christmas morning—full of greed and opportunity.

“Wait, isn’t this perfect?” she chirped, looping her arm through his. “Now you don’t have to marry some farm-raised nobody. She practically did you a favor.”

I could see the hesitation flicker across Marshall’s face. His eyes shifted like he was doing mental math.

Reyna leaned in closer, her voice syrupy sweet. “Come on, you know your grandpa didn’t mean what he said. He was just pissed off. There’s no way he’d actually cut you off the will just because you didn’t marry some backwater girl. You’re the smartest, the most capable—who else is gonna carry on the Rhodes Family legacy if not you? He knows that.”

“But the invitations are already out,” he mutters. “Calling it off now will make the family look bad.”

Reyna leans against him, drawing lazy circles on his chest with her finger. “But… you have me,” she giggled. Her voice drops to a coy whisper. “Don’t you think I’d make a better wife?”

His eyes darkened as he reached for her hand. “You’re right. I should’ve married you. A woman of noble, not a country bumpkin.”

Then, as if I weren’t even in the room, he sneered, “She should’ve been grateful just to be in the same room as me. If Grandpa hadn’t forced my hand, I wouldn’t have even bothered showing up today.”

I’d had enough.

“Well, since the wedding’s off,” I cut in coldly, “I’d like the both of you to get the hell out of my house. But before you go, take down all these ridiculous decorations you put up.”

I pointed to the doorway still draped in tulle and flowers.

Some of the neighbors who’d gathered outside started laughing among themselves.

“She’s not seriously thinking the house still belongs to her, is she?” one woman said, amused. It’s a wedding gift. And there’s no wedding, so obviously it goes back to Mr. Rhodes.”

Reyna clutched Marshall’s arm tighter. "Don’t let her keep it,” Reyna whined, her voice grating. “You’re not even getting married anymore. I just don’t want her using this as some excuse to leeching off of you.”

Marshall looks like he’s thinking it over, then says gently, “Alright. I’ll take it back.”

Marshall glared at me, then barks, “I’ll have this house back. I don’t care if Grandpa gave it to you—this place is mine again, so pack your stuff and get out.”

I blinked. The audacity. 

“This house isn’t yours,” I said, steady and clear. “It was assigned to me by the institute I work for. Your family had nothing to do with it.”

He let out a mocking laugh, pulled out his wallet and tossed a check onto the table like that settled everything.

“No need to make up stories like that,” he sneered, letting out a laugh. He pulled out his wallet and threw a check on the table like he was doing me a favor.

“This is what you want, right? Money? Take it. Consider it me buying the house back. Happy?”

I looked down at the check, then right back at him.

“No,” I said calmly. “For the last time, this house was given to me not by Mr. Rhodes but my superior. It’s not for sale. No amount of money can make you, a commoner, the owner of this place.”

That made both him and Reyna burst out laughing and the crowd outside joined in like a bad comedy show.

“Of course she won’t take the money,” one woman cackled. “These old houses sat empty for years. No one wanted them. And now she thinks she’s living in a palace? Please.”

Marshall shook his head and snorted. “You hear that? Be smart and take the damn money.”

But I didn’t move. My voice stayed firm.

“You don’t get to throw your money around and expect the world to bow,” I told him. “This house isn’t yours, Marshall. And no amount of money is gonna change that.”