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593words
The last person who dared to speak to me like that has been fertilizing a patch of daisies for years.
I stepped forward and slapped Cassandra across the face.
Her head snapped to the side, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"You dare hit me?!"
she shrieked, clutching her cheek and ordering the maids to attack.
A smirk played on my lips.
Before I went abroad, my grandfather, fearing I'd be vulnerable on my own, had personally arranged for me to be trained in Krav Maga.
A few beefy housekeepers were nothing.
A few quick strikes sent them stumbling back, dazed and confused.
"Pathetic," I muttered, shaking out my slightly numb fist. I turned to leave, ignoring Cassandra's enraged screams.
Suddenly, one of the maids shouted, "Mr. Thorpe is back!"
I looked up to see a man in a perfectly tailored suit striding toward us, his face a mask of cold fury.
In an instant, Cassandra's vicious expression melted away, replaced by one of heartbreaking fragility.
She threw herself into Maxwell Thorpe's arms. "Maxwell, darling! You're finally back! I was being bullied so horribly!"
I had to admit, Maxwell Thorpe was handsome enough to be a movie star.
It was a shame that, knowing full well he was engaged to me, he was now cradling his childhood sweetheart with such tender concern.
I curled my lip in disgust.
I needed to call my grandfather and tell him this wedding was absolutely, unequivocally off.
I ignored their little melodrama and headed for the garden exit.
"Stop right there," Maxwell's voice cut through the air, cold as steel.
"You think you can just walk away after touching my woman?"
He didn't even look at me, his attention focused on gently wiping away Cassandra's tears. From behind him, several large bodyguards moved to block my path.
I let out a resigned sigh and turned back to him.
"Mr. Thorpe, my grandfather is currently in your grandfather's study discussing our engagement. If they were to find out about this, it wouldn't look good for you, would it?"
At the mention of his grandfather, the maids' expressions flickered.
"What? Is she really his fiancée?"
"Who cares? Look how protective he is of Miss Whitmore. This engagement might not even happen."
"Exactly. We'd better not say the wrong thing and get on Miss Whitmore's bad side. With her temper, she'll make our lives a living hell."
The word "engagement" seemed to enrage Maxwell even more. His face darkened.
"What engagement? I never agreed to anything. Besides, my grandfather adores me. He would never force me to marry some nobody from God knows where."
Cassandra looked up from his embrace, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
"Maxwell and I are childhood sweethearts. What right does a common thief have to the title of Mrs. Thorpe?"
I nodded slowly. A scumbag and a shrew.
They were made for each other.
Let them be locked together forever so they couldn't inflict themselves on anyone else.
Still, my grandfather had told me that of all the families who had sought an alliance with ours, the Thorpes had put in the most effort.
I had met the elder Mr. Thorpe a few times; he was a kind man.
I could only imagine the storm that would erupt when he found out his grandson had single-handedly destroyed the union he had worked so hard to secure.
But there was nothing to be done about it. Sometimes a fine bamboo stalk produces a rotten shoot.
