Chapter 2

Hope Corbett POV:​

The throbbing pain in my kneecaps made my whole body shake on the marble floor, yet I kept my spine straight, refusing to bow my head toward that black-and-white portrait.

Seeing my defiance, Chadwick's eyes darkened. He buried his fingers in my long hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to look at Anabel's smiling face.

"Drop that disgusting pride of yours," he growled, his warm breath hitting my cold cheek. "Your worthless life doesn't even compare to a single strand of her hair."

My scalp burned from the pulling as tears slid down my cheeks, yet I still glared right back into his eyes.

"One day you'll pay for being blind, Chadwick."

The bodyguard behind me bore down harder on my injured calf, wrenching a muffled groan from my throat as my upper body pitched forward.

Losing my balance, I threw my hands out instinctively to catch myself before my face hit the stone.

My fingers brushed the edge of the memorial table and closed around the heavy black velvet tablecloth buried under the white lilies.

With a sharp rip of tearing fabric, the cloth tore free in my grip, dragging everything on the display platform down with it.

Dead center on the table, the custom crystal urn slid down the tilted surface and crashed onto the marble floor.

The crisp sound of shattering crystal echoed through the lobby, scattering white ash into the muddy rainwater tracked in by the press.

Dead silence fell over the hall, the reporters freezing with their cameras held mid-air.

Chadwick released my hair, his tall frame going rigid as he stared down at the wet pile of white powder on the floor.

A second later, he seized the collar of my dress and hauled me clean off the ground with one arm.

"How dare you!" he roared, veins bulging on his neck as his large hand clamped around my throat and slammed me against the concrete pillar.

The air was crushed from my lungs in an instant. I clawed frantically at his wrist, my nails carving bloody welts across the back of his hand, yet his grip only tightened.

Black spots danced across my vision, my chest burning for oxygen, until all I could see were his bloodshot, furious eyes.

"Call arena security! Call the police right now!" Chadwick barked over his shoulder at the club's PR director.

Trembling, the PR director fumbled out her phone and dialed the Boston Police Department, while waving a dozen security guards into the hall.

Chadwick released my throat and let me collapse onto the floor carpeted with crystal shards. I clutched my neck, coughing, gasping for the cold air.

A jagged shard of crystal sank deep into my right palm, my blood soaking into the white powder on the stone, though my hand had long gone completely numb.

Security guards hemmed me in with retractable belt barriers, reporters shoving their microphones past the line toward my face.

"Ms. Corbett, did you smash the urn out of hatred for the deceased?"

"How can a sociopath like you still walk free?"

I raised my bleeding right hand to block the blinding flashes, watching through my fingers as Chadwick stood behind his bodyguards, radiating murderous intent—as if those men weren't there to protect him, but to stop him from killing me.

Police sirens pierced the rainstorm outside, red and blue lights flashing against the glass doors as patrol cars screeched to a halt at the curb.

Four armed Boston police officers pushed through the main entrance, their heavy boots echoing all the way as they marched straight toward me.

The lead sergeant pulled a pair of metal handcuffs from his belt, his face expressionless.

"Hope Corbett, you are under arrest for suspected homicide and disturbing the peace."

The officers wrenched my arms behind my back, the cold steel cuffs snapping shut around my wrists and scraping my raw, abraded skin raw.

I didn't resist as they hauled me to my feet; my bruised knees left faint smears of blood on the floor with every step, a trail dragged all the way to the exit.

Just before they pushed me through the glass main doors, I stopped and looked back at Chadwick across the sea of flashing cameras.

Parting my cracked lips, I mouthed the words to him, silent and clear.

"I'll never forgive you."