Chapter 3

Using my uninjured left hand, I painfully pulled my torn clothes together, clutching them tightly over my chest.

I looked up at the man who was supposed to be my future husband.

"I lost my mind?"

My voice was hoarse, but every word was crystal clear.

"She tackled me in the mud, ripped my clothes off, and turned me into a strip show for your friends."

"Julian, are you fucking blind?"

Julian let out a mocking scoff, as if he had just heard the funniest joke in the world.

He took a step forward, looking down at me with supreme disdain.

"Sera, do you have a victim complex?"

"We're all just having fun. Chloe is a girl too. What could she possibly do to you?"

"So what if she touched you a bit? You're screaming so loud, it's like you want everyone to know how desperate you are for attention, huh?"

Behind him, Chloe poked her head out, smirking.

"Exactly. I was just joking."

"If you're going to be such a drama queen, how are you ever going to fit into our circle?"

The other rich heirs chimed in.

"Yeah, Chloe hangs out with us in the hot springs all the time. She's basically one of the guys."

"Making a scene over something this small... what a buzzkill."

I looked at the crowd.

I looked at their ugly, mocking faces, and at Julian's arrogant "apologize or I'm calling off the wedding" stance.

The pain in my wrist kept throbbing, sending waves of heat up my arm.

If I were the old Sera, the one who tolerated everything for the sake of family business, I would have burst into tears or stormed off in humiliation.

But I didn't.

I slowly stood up from the mud.

I didn't look at Chloe. I kept my eyes locked on Julian.

Suddenly, the corners of my lips twitched up into a smile.

When rage reaches its peak, it turns into a terrifying, eerie calm.

"Fine."

I nodded, my voice quiet but carrying perfectly to everyone present.

"So, stripping someone to 'verify the goods'... is just a joke."

"I get it."

Without another word, I turned around.

Dragging my mud-covered, aching body, I walked out of the woods step by step.

Julian sneered behind me.

"Good. Go home, change your clothes, and stop embarrassing yourself. Call me when you've cooled down."

I ignored him.

I walked to the parking lot, climbed into my heavy-duty SUV, and shut the door.

I didn't drive home.

Instead, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number.

It rang three times before a lazy, dangerous male voice answered.

"What's up? Finally decided to dump that idiot Julian?"

It was Tristan Cole, my childhood friend, the Vance Syndicate's top enforcer, and the most feared man in the city's underbelly.

I looked down at my horribly swollen wrist, my voice completely flat.

"Trsten."

"Bring ten of your most loyal, quiet guys to meet me."

"And while you're at it, head down to the slums under the Westside highway."

"Hire fifteen of the dirtiest, biggest, most starved street thugs you can find."

There was a two-second silence on the other end.

Then, Tristan let out a low, highly amused chuckle.

"Understood, Princess. I'm on it."