I spent six years locked in a bitter war with Caspian Shaw. He was the reason my mother fell from a balcony and was left paralyzed. I was the reason his company went bankrupt, a secret I leaked with cold satisfaction. Everyone who knew us assumed we were destined to tear each other apart for the rest of our lives. When we met again, he had already rebuilt his empire. He was facing a scrum of reporters, answering their questions with effortless charm. "Back in college, we all had that pact, right?" a reporter, an old classmate, asked playfully. "Find someone to love by eighteen, marry by twenty-five, have a kid by twenty-eight. So, Caspian, how far along are you?" He smiled, a practiced, easy smile. "Getting engaged soon." "Wow! Looks like you're the first one of us to hit the mark!" I idly spun the ring on my own ring finger. The truth was, I’d already checked off all three. 1 The woman who walked through the door was Caspian Shaw’s fiancée. She was young, beautiful, and impeccably polite. She offered a small, graceful nod to each of us at the table before taking a seat beside Caspian. He didn't look at her. Instead, his gaze found mine across the crowded room. I could feel the speculative glances of everyone around us, sharp as needles. The story of my war with Caspian was legendary in these circles. I picked up my purse and stood to leave. The two people sitting next to me, thinking I was about to make a scene and claw the girl’s face off, instinctively grabbed my arms to hold me back. I raised an eyebrow at them. "Uh, haha, where are you going, Amy?" "The restroom." "Oh, right. Haha, of course." They laughed awkwardly and let go. As I walked away, I overheard their hushed whispers. "Wow, two years and Amy's really mellowed out." "I know, right? My heart almost stopped. The old Amy would have already scratched the fiancée’s eyes out." "It's been two years, and she still can't let it go. She saw the girl and had to run and hide." "Well, since it looks like we're safe, tell security they can stand down." It was only when I stepped outside that I saw them: two neat rows of broad-shouldered bodyguards lining the hallway. They tensed when they saw me. The one in charge touched his earpiece, and then, as one, they retreated. I sat on the lawn outside, calling my daughter. Her sweet little voice chattered on the other end, telling me about a new story she learned at preschool today. Caspian's interview had moved outdoors as well. Our eyes met across the throng of people. It was always like that with us; we could find each other in any crowd. "Mr. Shaw," a reporter asked, "when your company was driven to bankruptcy all those years ago, is there anything you'd like to say to the person responsible?" He let out a soft, chilling laugh, his eyes fixed on the camera, but I knew his words were for me. "I saw her today. Her eyes are still just as beautiful. If I ever get the chance, I'll carve them out myself. They'd make a stunning necklace for my fiancée." A collective gasp went through the crowd. But it was just an empty threat. In the six years we spent hating each other, we'd said far worse. "And did you ever retaliate back then?" another reporter pressed. "I crippled her mother. Does that count?" I swirled the wine in my glass, listening to the nursery rhyme on my phone, my voice calm as I soothed my daughter. My cool indifference was driving Caspian insane. Then again, we never needed a reason to wish for the other's painful demise. He came and sat beside me, pressing a finger on my phone screen to pause the story. He glanced at it and let out a snort of laughter. "A funeral dirge would suit you better." He gestured to the woman who had followed him. "Wren, this is Amy Thorne. She was the class president back in college." Wren offered a sweet, saccharine smile and extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Amy. I'm Wren, Caspian's fiancée." They were all waiting for the explosion, for the screaming and the drama. I simply met her gaze and said, coolly, "Hello." 2 Caspian’s eyes narrowed, as if trying to see through the placid mask I wore. He let out a cold, dismissive laugh, convinced I was putting on an act. As Caspian was pulled back into the interview, Wren took my hand. "You're so beautiful, Amy," she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "I heard that Caspian's ex-girlfriend of six years was here today. Do you know who she is?" I didn't bother trying to decipher her little game. I pulled my hand away and, with a deliberate show of fastidiousness, wiped it on a silk handkerchief from my purse. "Sorry," I said, my voice flat. "I have a thing about germs." Wren's face flushed with humiliation. She lowered her head. "Amy, who do you think you're fooling?" a new voice sneered. It was Julian, Caspian's younger, perpetually arrogant brother. He plopped down in the chair opposite me. "You were trash in college, and two years hasn't changed a thing. You're still just as fake." "Julian, don't say that," Wren chided gently. "Miss Thorne isn't that kind of person." "You've only met her once, Wren, don't let her fool you," Julian shot back. "I've known her for six years. If it wasn't for her, would my brother have gone bankrupt?" "What are you talking about?" "Isn't it obvious? She's my brother's trashy first love." Julian then puckered his lips and spat the gum he was chewing in my direction. I lifted my designer bag, blocking the sticky projectile. Then, without a word, I stood up and swung the bag, smacking him squarely in the face with it. "Amy! What the hell do you think you're doing?" he shrieked. "You think I'm like you? I'm a Shaw! Who the hell are you to touch me? Do you want my brother to chop off your fingers?" "The Shaws?" I scoffed. "You don't impress me. I made him go bankrupt once. I can do it again." The sudden explosion of violence brought the interview to a grinding halt. Caspian rushed back over. I looked down at the sticky residue of the gum on my pristine white purse. My germaphobia was real. I held up the purse. "Ten thousand dollars," I said, looking at Caspian. "You have the nerve to ask my brother for that pittance?" Julian sneered. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? Looks like the last two years haven't been kind to you. Your skills at seducing men, though, seem to have improved." I raised the bag to hit him again, but Caspian's hand shot out, his fingers clamping around my wrist like a vice. "What was the last thing you said?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet. "Ten thousand dollars." "Before that." I thought for a moment. I wasn't sure which line he meant, but if he wanted to hear it, I was happy to oblige. "I can make you go bankrupt once, and I can do it again." Caspian smiled. It was the first genuine, heartfelt smile I'd seen on his face all night. "I have to admit, I prefer you when you're not pretending." I yanked my hand free, my arm still raised to strike. He didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned in, offering his cheek. "Go ahead," he whispered, his voice a venomous caress. "But if that hand lands, I'll make sure the upper half of your mother's body is paralyzed too." I hadn't actually wanted to hit him. The thought of touching him was nauseating. But after he said that, my hand flew, and the slap echoed with a satisfying crack. Julian lunged at me first. "You actually hit him! Are you insane?" He grabbed my throat. I grabbed his hair. A glass chair shattered against his back, and blood began to trickle from a gash on his head. I snatched a shard of glass and sliced it across Caspian's arm. With a surge of absolute power, Caspian shoved me backward, into the swimming pool. We were a tangled, thrashing mess of limbs and hatred. "I hear you've been taking care of your mother these last two years," he hissed, his face close to mine. "Must be exhausting. How about I arrange a little... accident for her? Then you won't have to be tired anymore." "Those eyes of yours are so beautiful. I'll propose to Wren with them. It'll be a beautiful moment." I was done with his pointless threats. My eyes locked on his chest, and I drove the glass shard deep into him. I wanted to see him, just once, drop the tough-guy act. I wanted to see him tremble and beg me to push harder. But the scene I imagined never happened. Wren threw herself in front of him. Blood blossomed across her white dress like a grotesque flower. "If you have a problem, take it out on me!" Caspian roared, his voice cracking with a panic I'd never heard before. "Why would you hurt her? Don't you know she has a bleeding disorder?" I twisted the glass shard in my hand, digging it deeper. "I know now." "Amy! You don't bring family into this!" "Oh? So my mother deserved to be paralyzed?" 3 Without a shred of pity, I shoved Wren's limp body into the pool. I wiped the blood from the glass onto Caspian's pristine shirt. The sudden, brutal turn of events left everyone frozen. No one dared to intervene. Caspian was calling me a lunatic, but his eyes… his eyes held a flicker of something else. A dark, thrilling excitement. "A lunatic?" I laughed. "Isn't this what you wanted?" From the moment I had walked into this party, he had been pushing me, goading me, trying to break the calm facade I had so carefully constructed. Caspian and I had fought for so long, I'd almost forgotten what it felt like when we were in love. On the day he proposed to me, I sold his company's confidential files. On the day I agreed to marry him, he had someone disconnect my mother's oxygen tank. The day of the car accident, when I was flown out of the country for emergency surgery, he was there, tubes sprouting from his body like grotesque vines. When he saw me, he tore off his own oxygen mask, his lips finding mine in a brutal, biting kiss. "Amy," he'd gasped, his voice raspy. "If I die… in the next life… marry me. Let's not torture each other anymore, okay?" As hypoxia began to claim him, he fell back, his eyes full of desperate hope. I shook my head. "There is no next life for us." Later, at the hospital, when Wren needed a massive transfusion, Caspian had rolled up his sleeve. "We have the same blood type. Take mine. If it's not enough, drain me dry." When he stumbled out of the blood donation room, he was swaying on his feet. He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes burning with a desperate need for validation. "Amy, do you see? I know how to love someone now." "Bro, you gave too much blood, you're not thinking straight. Let me help you." Julian tried to support him. Caspian shoved him away. "Get off me! I'm perfectly lucid." He turned back to me, his gaze intense. "Did you see? I've learned how to love. I could pick anyone, and I could love them with everything I have! Don't you get it yet?" The flashing red and blue lights of a police car painted our faces. I pushed him towards Julian. I'm a germaphobe; I dusted off the spot on my shoulder where he had touched me. "The police are here. It's time to give your statement. I'll cover her medical bills." "Amy," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "I'm begging you. Let's let each other go." I didn't answer him. The truth was, I had already let him go two years ago. … At the police station, we were put in separate interrogation rooms. After giving my statement, I just sat there. The voices from the next room grew louder. "Bro, you can fool everyone else, but you can't fool me," Julian was saying. "This is just another one of your twisted games, isn't it? You know she'd never marry you willingly, so you're going to force her, just to make her miserable." "What about Wren, then?" "She's so obedient, she'd probably agree to be your mistress if you asked." "I'm serious about this," Caspian's voice was low. "But I won't break things off with Wren until Amy agrees. Wren's young. If I just dump her, she won't be able to handle it." "Bro, what if Amy can hear you?" A long pause, then Caspian's voice, confident and cold. "If she could hear, she would have already stormed in here and slapped both of us. The fact that she hasn't means she can't." A small, humorless smile touched my lips. I pulled out my phone and made a call. "Hey. Come pick me up." Less than ten minutes later, an officer came to my door. "Amy Thorne? Your family is here to pick you up." "Okay, thank you." "Just sign here, and you're free to go." I walked out, passing their room on the way. Julian's voice followed me. "Family? The only family she has is her mother. Did her mom learn to walk again?" "A friend, probably." Then, Julian's curiosity got the better of him. The door creaked open. "Officer," he wheedled, "who was it that came to pick up Amy Thorne?"
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "393984", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel