Part 2Chosen Over Him

In my entire life, people had only ever kneeled to me.

The last person who dared to speak to me like that was six feet under.

I stepped forward and drove my fist into his face.

His head snapped to the side, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You dare hit me?!” He clutched his cheek and screamed at his bodyguards, who immediately rushed me.

A slow, cold smile spread across my lips.

When I first went abroad, my grandfather, fearing I would be bullied, had personally taught me combat.

A few untrained bodyguards were nothing.

With a series of precise strikes, I sent them spinning, dazed and confused.

“Pathetic.”

I flexed my slightly numb knuckles and turned to leave, ignoring Blake’s enraged shrieks.

Suddenly, a maid cried out, “Miss Thorne is back!”

I looked up. A woman in a couture gown was striding toward us, her face a mask of cold fury.

Blake’s vicious expression vanished, replaced by one of a wounded puppy. He grabbed Isabelle’s hand. “Isabelle! You’re finally back! I was being bullied so badly!”

I had to admit, Isabelle Thorne was stunning. She could have easily made a name for herself in Hollywood. It was a shame, then, that even knowing she was engaged to me, she was cupping her childhood sweetheart’s face with such tender concern.

I scoffed. I needed to get Grandfather and go home. This marriage was dead on arrival.

I ignored their little drama and headed for the garden exit.

“Hold it. You think you can just walk away after touching my man?”

Isabelle didn’t even look at me. She gestured, and two of her bodyguards moved to block my path.

I let out a long, weary sigh and turned to face her. “Miss Thorne, my grandfather is currently in your grandfather’s study discussing our engagement. If they find out about this, it won’t look good for you, will it?”

At the mention of her grandfather, the maids’ expressions shifted.

“What? Is he really her fiancé?”

“Who cares? Look how protective she is of Mr. Everton. This marriage is probably off anyway.”

“Exactly. We’d better not say the wrong thing and offend Mr. Everton. You know what he’s like.”

The word “engagement” only seemed to darken Isabelle’s mood. “What marriage pact? I never agreed to it. Besides, my grandfather adores me. He would never force me to marry some broke nobody from god-knows-where.”

Blake shot me a triumphant look over her shoulder. “Isabelle and I are soulmates. How dare a common thief dream of taking my place?”

I nodded slowly. A perfect match of trash. They deserved each other. It’s just, my grandfather had told me that of all the families who had sought an alliance with ours, the Thornes had put in the most effort. I’d met Silas Thorne a few times; he was a good man. I could only imagine the storm that would erupt when he found out his own granddaughter had sabotaged the marriage he’d worked so hard to secure.

But you can’t help it when a fine bamboo stalk produces a rotten shoot.