Chapter 3

3 She shrieked at me like a madwoman.

"Are you insane? You dared to push Colton? Do you have any idea how many millions of fans he has? If you bruise him, they'll bury you alive!"

Looking at her furious face, I only felt a deep, sickening absurdity.

I laughed at her boundless ignorance, and I laughed at the three years of devotion I had wasted on her.

I slowly stood up, my gaze locking onto hers with deadly coldness. "This instrument was officially cataloged as a national cultural treasure, and the National Museum is taking custody of it tomorrow. If you damage it, the price you pay will ruin your entire life."

A heavy silence fell over the room for a split second.

Then, a harsh burst of laughter broke the quiet.

Colton crossed his arms, stepping toward me with absolute contempt.

"You sure know how to spin a fantasy, don't you? The National Museum doesn't collect trash from garage sales. If this piece of junk was really that precious, would you leave it sitting on a backstage folding table?"

"Colton is totally right! You're just burning with jealousy because Colton won first place tonight, so now you're here to throw a pathetic tantrum!"

Kendra and Colton fed off each other's mockery, prompting the rest of the crew to join in the jeering.

I ignored them entirely, turning around to lift the instrument into my arms, wanting nothing more than to walk away.

I had already failed my grandfather once.

I had to protect the last piece of his memory at all costs.

Seeing me turn my back, Kendra felt humiliated and raised her voice even louder.

"What are you acting so high and mighty for, Caleb? I regret not dumping your useless ass years ago! A loser like you deserves to sleep with that chunk of wood for the rest of your pathetic life!"

Her insults barely registered in my mind anymore.

I felt nothing but relief that I had finally seen her true colors.

Without warning, Colton stepped up and planted a heavy kick straight into my chest.

The impact tore the instrument from my grip, and it crashed against the concrete floor with a sickening thud.

"No!"

A loud crack echoed through the room as the lower edge of the soundboard shattered against the hard ground.

Three years ago, a master restorer had spent months stabilizing the fragile body, warning us that the tonewood was an extinct grain that could never be repaired if broken again.

I froze on the spot, my entire body trembling as my heart plummeted into an abyss.

Yet Colton had no intention of stopping, sneering as he raised his boot again.

Rage overwhelmed my senses, and I lunged forward, grabbing his collar in a death grip.

"Back off! If there is a single scratch on this instrument, I swear to God you won't walk out of this room alive!"

My voice shook with pure fury, but to their arrogant ears, it sounded like a desperate bluff.

Colton's expression darkened, and his fist slammed hard into the corner of my mouth.

The blow sent a coppery taste flooding across my tongue, forcing me to stumble backward.

Before I could recover, he threw another punch straight at my face.

I was never a punching bag.

I wiped the blood from my lip and tackled him to the ground, trading blows with everything I had.

All the pain from Grandfather's death, the stolen spotlight, and the damaged family heirloom exploded into blind fury.

His crew members froze for a second before swarming me all at once.

I was hopelessly outnumbered, and they quickly pinned my arms behind my back.

Colton planted his heavy boot onto the side of my face, grinding my cheek into the dirty floor.

Kendra clapped her hands with sheer delight. "Colton, you're amazing! That's our superstar!"

Puffed up by her praise, Colton leaned down and gripped my jaw tightly.

"Kneel down right now, bang your head on the floor, and call me your master three times. Maybe then I'll let you crawl out of here. How about that?"

I gritted my teeth and spat blood straight into his smug face.

"You piece of human garbage!"

Colton's face twisted in fury, and the crew members egged him on, shouting for him to teach me a lesson.

The next second, he turned toward the fallen instrument on the floor.

Panic tore through me, and I writhed violently against the hands holding me down. "Colton! Don't touch it! Come at me!"

It was too late.

Colton brought his heel down hard onto the center of the soundboard, bending down to rip the antique strings away with his bare hands.

Snap!

The strings whipped through the air, and it felt as though every nerve in my brain snapped with them.

Tears blurred my vision as a surge of desperate strength exploded through my muscles, nearly throwing the three men off my back.

"Damn it, this guy is going crazy!"

A sharp, searing pain shot through my left shoulder as the joint popped out of its socket under the violent strain.

I could not care less about the dislocated arm, screaming with bloodshot eyes, "Stop! You bastard, stop!"