Chapter 3
1198words
Seeing Julian and Seraphina hadn't stirred even the faintest emotion—it only hardened my resolve to sever all ties with my past.
Their arrogance only sharpened my clarity. My world had no place for them anymore.
I drove straight to the renowned "Artisan Workshop" downtown. The place was legendary for its exquisite craftsmanship and masterful handling of rare materials—perfect for repairing Mother's brooch. Inside, the rich scent of polished wood mingled with cool metal as craftsmen in gray smocks hunched over their work in deep concentration.
An elderly craftsman greeted me, peering through wire-rimmed spectacles with keen, practiced eyes.
I carefully removed the broken Iris Brooch from my purse and placed it in his weathered hands. He examined it closely, his brow deepening into furrows.
"Miss, this piece is… quite extraordinary. A custom design from the early last century. The metal alloy formula has been lost to time, and the gemstone setting technique is remarkably complex." He adjusted his glasses, his voice tinged with regret. "Proper restoration requires specialized tools and materials, and above all, time. I cannot rush this. Seven days, at minimum."
Seven days. With my wedding approaching, time wasn't a luxury I possessed. My heart sank, but I steeled myself. I'd come this far—I had to press on.
"That's fine," I said firmly. "Price is no object. Just restore it properly—I'll wait however long it takes."
The craftsman nodded solemnly, promising his best effort. I left the brooch and my contact details, then turned to leave. As I reached the door, a familiar figure blocked my path.
Julian. His face twisted in a sinister smile as he toyed with a cheap silver ring between his fingers.
"Eleanor, I knew you'd come here." His voice oozed smugness. "Did you really think you could escape? Did you honestly believe you could get away from me?"
I stared at him coldly, saying nothing. My patience for his games had evaporated completely.
But he wouldn't relent. He grabbed my wrist and forced the cheap ring onto my finger. The cold metal against my skin made my stomach turn.
"Eleanor, stop playing hard to get." His voice dripped with mockery. "Think this little act will make me chase you? Make me change my mind? Don't be stupid. You belong to me. This ring is your destiny."
I yanked my hand away violently. The ring clattered to the floor.
"Julian Thorne," I said, each word precise and cutting, my eyes blazing with disgust, "let me be crystal clear: I despise that ring, and I despise you even more. I will never marry you. Ever."
The moment I finished speaking, Seraphina materialized behind Julian.
Her face showed perfectly calculated distress as she rushed to Julian's side and clutched his arm.
"Eleanor, how can you say such things?" Seraphina's voice quavered with theatrical tears as she glanced around to ensure an audience. "Julian was badly hurt saving me, and this is how you repay him? Have you forgotten he once saved your life?"
Her words triggered immediate whispers among the gathering crowd. Customers from the workshop and curious passersby drifted closer, drawn by the drama.
Within moments, paparazzi and social media vultures appeared, cameras aimed directly at us.
"Oh my God, isn't that Eleanor Vance from Vance Industries? What's happening?"
"I heard she and Julian Thorne from Thorne Enterprises split up, and now he's engaged to her stepsister!"
"Look how arrogant she is! And Seraphina seems so sweet and gentle—didn't she save Eleanor's life a few years back?"
"Exactly! I heard Eleanor's been a total bitch since childhood, always bullying poor Seraphina. No wonder Julian chose Seraphina instead!"
Public opinion swung instantly toward Seraphina, painting me as the villain. The cruel comments cut deep, each one a fresh wound.
I looked from Seraphina's smug mask to Julian's cold stare and suddenly realized how pointless this all was.
Explanations? Defenses? Against their manipulation, before this crowd of strangers eager for drama, what was the point?
I drew a deep breath, centering myself. I stepped away from Julian, my eyes reflecting not anger but complete liberation.
"I won't waste energy on grudges—not now, not ever," I said, my voice eerily calm.
Julian and Seraphina exchanged glances, their eyes gleaming with contempt.
"See? She's always been like this. Even her father barely tolerated her," Seraphina stage-whispered to Julian, ensuring everyone nearby could hear. "Julian, don't waste your time on her. Let's go."
Julian shot me one final scornful glance before walking away with Seraphina clinging to his arm.
I stood motionless, watching them leave. Surprisingly, I felt no anger—only profound relief.
I had finally, truly let go.
Back at my apartment, I didn't rest. Instead, I went straight to my study and retrieved my mother's trust documents from the safe, examining them meticulously.
The papers detailed the substantial dowry Mother had arranged for me, along with significant equity in the Vance corporation. These would be my foundation—my security for the new life I was building.
After organizing the paperwork, I headed to my bedroom. My wedding date was approaching fast—I needed to prepare.
From my closet, I retrieved the exquisite fabric I'd been saving—the finest silk and delicate lace Mother had chosen for me years before. I settled at my sewing machine and began crafting my wedding dress by hand. Each stitch carried my hopes and dreams for future happiness. This dress would embody all my wishes for a fresh start.
Night deepened as I worked tirelessly under the soft lamplight. My fingers were pricked and sore, but the joy and anticipation bubbling in my chest made the pain irrelevant.
I imagined wearing this dress, walking into the church on Ethan Kale's arm. The thought brought an unconscious smile to my lips.
Suddenly, a violent crash shattered the silence as my bedroom door burst open.
I jerked upright, nearly dropping my needle and thread.
Julian! He stormed in like a rabid animal. His eyes were bloodshot, his face contorted with unhinged fury.
"Eleanor Vance!" he roared, lunging forward and seizing my throat in one hand. My airway closed instantly, black spots dancing before my eyes.
"You vicious bitch! How dare you poison Seraphina!" His voice dripped with hatred, each word like acid.
I clawed desperately at his hand, but his grip was iron. My feet dangled above the floor as darkness crept into the edges of my vision.
"Did you think marrying Ethan Kale would free you from me?" he snarled, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Dream on! A scheming bitch like you belongs as my mistress—forever in the shadows!"
He hurled me to the floor. I slammed against the nightstand, my shoulder wound tearing open with a burst of white-hot pain. Ignoring my strangled cry, he snatched up my half-finished wedding dress and began ripping it apart with savage glee.
"You think you'll get married? You think you deserve happiness?" he roared as he shredded the delicate fabric. "A woman like you deserves nothing but misery!"
My beautiful dress lay in tatters, white silk and delicate lace scattered across the floor like fallen petals.
My heart, like that shredded dress, lay in ruins.
