Chapter 3

3.

It was Garrett Galt.

He wore a bespoke suit that cost more than most people made in a year.

He looked down at me, covered in filth and blood, with nothing but pure disgust.

He didn't even ask if I was okay. Instead, he looked at his secretary.

"Lydia, is this how you handle things? It's slow and it looks messy."

Lydia scurried over to him, her voice suddenly sweet and flirtatious.

"Don't be angry, Mr. Galt. I was just about to have her dumped somewhere far away."

"She just didn't know her place and tried to lecture me."

I used every ounce of my strength to lift my head.

I pointed my swollen, bloody hand toward the pen, my voice raspy.

"Inside… there's a man… Old Silas fainted…"

Garrett finally looked at me, but his eyes were like he was judging a piece of spoiled meat.

He reached into his jacket, pulled out a thick stack of cash, and threw it at my face.

The bills scattered everywhere, soaking up the mud and my blood.

"Take the money and get lost. This is for your medical bills and a kill-fee for the engagement."

He paused, nudging a stray bill with the tip of his shoe.

"From this moment on, you and the Galts are finished."

"Don't let me see your face again. You're polluting my sight."

He turned to Lydia with a cold command.

"Dump the old man and this woman at the landfill three miles away."

"Don't let them ruin the image of our ranch."

Lydia bowed her head obediently. "Right away, Mr. Galt."

My heart went completely numb.

I felt no warmth left in my body.

As he turned to walk away, a strange laugh bubbled up in my throat.

It sounded hollow and haunting in the open field.

Garrett stopped and turned back, his brow furrowed.

"What are you laughing at?"

I stared him straight in the eyes, speaking one word at a time.

"Garrett Galt, you are going to regret this."

Garrett acted as if he had just heard a pathetic joke.

"Regret? In this city, I don't even know the meaning of the word."

"But you, Miss Huxley, are about to find out what real despair feels like."

He waved his hand, and the guards moved in to 'dispose of the trash.'

Just then, my work phone in my discarded backpack started ringing.

It was a unique ringtone, reserved only for the highest level of emergency.