Part 3Chosen Over Him

I shook my head in pity and was about to leave when Blake shouted, “Don’t let him go! The ring Isabelle gave me is still on his hand!”

At a signal from Isabelle, the bodyguards seized me. They tried to wrench the ring off, but it was custom-fitted to my finger. They couldn't budge it.

“Blake, if this is your ring, why does it fit my finger so perfectly?” I taunted.

His face flushed with anger. “It’s because you’re fatter than me! You forced it on, that’s why it’s stuck!” he spat. “Get an electric saw!”

My expression changed. This was bad. I hadn’t brought my own security. Isabelle’s bodyguards were huge and numerous. I fought back, but they quickly exploited an opening and slammed me to the ground.

Blake squatted in front of me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He grabbed my chin. “Still acting tough? Weren’t you so tough a minute ago?”

He slapped me hard across the face, the grit from the path scraping my cheek and drawing blood.

Isabelle stared at me for a moment, then a cruel smile touched her lips. “Did that hurt your hand, Blake? Want to see something more fun?”

His eyes lit up. “Tie him to the boat in the middle of the pond!”

My own eyes widened in horror. I looked at her face, which was now glowing with a sick excitement. Did she know something?

“No! You’ll regret this!”

Blake laughed, a manic edge to his voice. “Regret? That word isn’t in my vocabulary. But you? You’re about to regret ever touching what’s mine.”

The guards dragged me to the large pond in the center of the garden and threw me into a decrepit, rocking rowboat, tying me down with thick ropes.

Before I could even open my eyes, they flipped me onto my stomach and brought an electric saw buzzing toward my hand.

A scream tore from my throat as searing pain shot up my arm. The ring was instantly slick with my blood.

“Looks like another one who didn’t know his place is about to lose his life.”

“Such a handsome young man, too. If only he hadn’t been so stubborn. Miss Thorne will never let him go now. He’ll lose a finger, at least.”

“This is too cruel. I can’t watch.”

The maids and servants chattered on the edge of the pond, but their voices were already fading into a dull roar.

I thrashed against the ropes, the old boat groaning and slapping against the water. The scene was sickeningly similar to the day my parents were lost at sea. A deep-seated terror clawed its way out from the depths of my mind.

My face went deathly pale. My hands clamped over my head of their own accord, my own blood smearing down my cheeks.

“No! Please! Let me up!”

But Blake and Isabelle just stood on the bank, watching the show. Blake even kicked the boat, sending me drifting toward the center of the pond.

Through a blur of pain and fear, I saw him smugly holding up my ring.

Isabelle wrapped her arms around him. “It’s covered in that trash’s filthy blood,” she cooed. “Throw it away. I’ll buy you a new one.”

Over my desperate screams, they casually tossed the ring into the water.

“Isabelle Thorne! Aren’t you afraid of what my grandfather will do to you?!”