"Mr. Martinez, let's get something straight," I said, keeping my voice calm. "It was your secretary, running through a crowd in stilettos, who knocked over my suitcase. Inside were my father's belongings. And now they're broken!"

I hadn't even finished when Grayson cut me off, clearly over it already.

"Enough, Lucy. I get that you're upset. Whatever was in that case, I'll pay for it. Full price."

He didn't skip a beat before adding, "If that's not enough, I'll triple it. Take it as compensation from me."

I didn't say anything. I just stared at Grayson. He took my silence as agreement and carried on as if this was some boardroom negotiation he'd already won.

"And about that so-called childhood engagement between us? That was just a joke our parents made ages ago. It doesn't mean anything now. These days, it's about aligning family status. Merging resources."

Grayson stepped in a little closer, his voice steady but soaked in judgment.

"Look at you now. Just a low-level employee at some research institute overseas, scraping by on a fixed paycheck. Forget the earrings. Even the outfit Brittany's wearing would take you months of saving and budgeting just to buy."

His gaze raked over me, a single, harsh assessment that spoke of worthlessness.

"You seriously think someone like you with that background and that status is good enough for me? That you deserve to become my wife?"

Gasps broke out around us like popcorn in a hot pan:

"Holy crap! Did he just dump her on the spot?"

"She was actually engaged to Grayson Martinez? Like, the CEO of Martinez Industries?"

"No way! This is like some daytime drama. Total mismatch. Her family must be way below his league."

"Not surprised he doesn't want her. Even his secretary's flashing $2.3 million earrings. Poor thing never had a shot."

Just behind Grayson, Brittany lifted her chin like she was already wearing a crown. Her whole face lit up, smug and satisfied, like she was ready to watch me crumble.

But that girl didn't know me.

The Watsons and the Martinez family have traced their roots back generations. Our families might have lived in different worlds, but we were close once.

My father, Conrad Watson, wasn’t a businessman like the Martinez patriarchs. He was an aerospace engineer, one of the few assigned to classified missions for the National Aerospace Agency. He devoted his life to serving the country, never chasing wealth or social standing.

Because of that, he was awarded one of the nation's highest honors—a presidential gift. That piece of porcelain wasn’t just decorative. To me, it represented everything my father believed in.

Returning to Summit City was supposed to be simple. I came to bring his keepsake home and to end the engagement with the Martinez family formally.

But now, standing in front of Grayson, I felt like I didn't need to do much.

Grayson didn’t want anything to do with me.

In fact, it seemed like he wanted to erase me, convinced I might still try to hold on.

Fine by me.

I didn't owe him a damn thing, not even my pride.

I let out a short, cool laugh and slowly lifted my head. "You're absolutely right, Mr. Martinez. A pair of earrings worth $2.3 million? Not even worth the discussion. I'll pay."

That hit like a rock dropped in a still lake.

Grayson's brow ticked up just a bit.

Brittany froze mid-smirk.

And the crowd? They looked like they were witnessing a meltdown in real-time.

I ignored them. My eyes shifted past Grayson and locked on Brittany.

"Now, let's talk about your precious secretary and what she broke. What's her plan to compensate me?"

Grayson actually snorted as his gaze dropped to the plain black cargo case at my feet.

"That pile of broken porcelain?"

He looked back at me with that same cool indifference and continued, "Lucy, I know this breakup's probably tough to swallow, but let's not turn this into a scene. Don't use this as some excuse to extort us. Even if that case was full of antiques, I could afford it. Name your price. Take the money and leave. Stop embarrassing yourself."

I gave him a slow, measured laugh. "Compensate me? I'm afraid that you couldn't afford it, Grayson."

Grayson blinked and then looked at me like I'd just told him the sky was green.

"I couldn't afford it?"

Behind him, the bodyguards shifted uncomfortably.

Meanwhile, Brittany gave a short, breathy laugh, all mockery.

The crowd kicked up again, their voices growing louder.

"She's completely lost it."

"Did she just say Grayson Martinez can't afford it?"

"Martinez Industries is worth over a hundred billion. Is she for real?"

"She must've finally snapped after getting dumped. Poor girl."

Someone in the crowd let out a long, low sigh.

"What a mess! Publicly dumped, can't afford luxury earrings, and the girl's clearly having a full-blown meltdown. Look at that busted suitcase. What's even in there? Maybe a couple hundred grand in antiques, if anything? That's pocket change for the Martinez family."

Grayson didn't even bother hiding the look of disgust spreading across his face.

"Lucy, do you even have any idea what the Martinez Group is worth?" he asked coldly, "Do you understand the kind of value we're talking about?"

He gestured toward my suitcase with a sneer that made my skin crawl.

"Forget that pile of broken porcelain. You could fill ten of those cases with antiques, and I'd still..."

I didn't let him finish. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and scrolled until I found the contact with a cryptic string of encoded characters. I tapped the call button and raised the phone to my ear.

It only rang a few times before a gravel-deep voice answered, "Who is this?"

I kept my face calm and unreadable and spoke clearly.

"Dr. Linden. Item code 'Project Odyssey-9.' It's broken."

For a split second, everything went still.

Three full seconds ticked by in dead silence.

Then, that calm voice suddenly shot up in pitch, full of panic and disbelief.

"What?! What did you just say? Project Odyssey-9 is broken? That's impossible! Where are you?!"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Brittany beat me to it, her voice loud and theatrical for the whole crowd to hear.

"Oh, please! It's just some cracked porcelain. Don't start throwing around spooky code names like you're in a spy movie. Project Odyssey? Sure. And I'll call it 'Project Basement' if I feel like it."

Then, Brittany folded her arms and smirked. "You think anyone's scared? Go on! Let's see who's bluffing."

I couldn't be bothered with her lack of manners. But since she wanted it so much, I gave her exactly what she asked for.

"Summit International Airport," I said, loud and clear. "Terminal 1, Gate A."

On the other end of the line, Dr. Linden's voice changed instantly. The panic was gone, replaced by full-on military urgency.

"Do not move. Stay exactly where you are. Secure the site immediately. No one goes near that box. Deploy the security team. Lock down Summit International. Maximum alert."

Then, he said, "Contact the highest-ranking airport security official. Bring in the national heritage experts. Top-level clearance. Right now!"

The line went dead afterward.

The air around me thinned as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the terminal.

And yet Grayson still didn't believe it. His stare was narrow and sharp, his voice full of irritation and disbelief.

"Lucy, are you done with this little show? All this drama just to try and squeeze money out of Brittany? Unbelievable."

Then, he let out a dry, mocking scoff. "Breaking off the engagement was the smartest decision I've ever made. I can't believe Uncle Conrad raised someone so uncivilized."

Just behind him, Brittany stood tall, glowing and radiating smugness.

"Exactly," Brittany chimed in like she was giving the closing line of a TV drama. "Keep faking it all you want. You won't cry until you hit rock bottom. And guess what? I'm ready to watch."

She purred with a smirk. "You might as well drop to your knees and beg me, but it won't change anything now."

Murmurs once again surrounded us. People watched as if they were awaiting the big crash, the ultimate humiliation.

And then it happened.

Less than five minutes later, a shrill wail split the air, piercing, high-pitched, and rapidly approaching.

There were sirens.

Not one, but an entire convoy.

"Clear the area! All unauthorized personnel, step back!"

The commands echoed through the terminal, sharp and commanding. Then, a wave of armed tactical officers stormed in with their uniforms bearing aerospace division insignias.

In seconds, they had the entire area on lockdown.

The crowd backed off in stunned silence, faces pale, eyes wide.

Grayson, who had been puffed up with power and pride just moments earlier, suddenly turned pale. His eyes shot to me and then slowly lowered to the suitcase at my feet.

His jaw tightened. A bead of cold sweat rolled down his temple.

Brittany's grin? Gone and replaced by a blank stare of pure disbelief.

And then, just like that, panic.

Only now did it start to click for her.

Only now did she begin to grasp what she'd done.

She hadn't just knocked over a fragile keepsake.

She hadn't just broken a fancy dish.

She had destroyed a national treasure.

And by the time that realization finally settled in?

It was already far too late.