Chapter 2
A sharp, searing pain. Why had the plea gone unheard? The war's fury… the relentless press… Away, towing what he…
Just pay. "Fuck," he growled, the derision clear in his voice. We're shackled here with the bed, anything…
Her bitter tears wiped at my… My band… good word for me with… Me Torre, under me deal with pathetic pepti…
The sound of shattering glass violently interrupted the fading…
“Who dares—?” Her voice shifted from anger to terror. “Mr… Mr. Thorne! I didn’t realize…”
“Get out!” Eugene’s voice filled the room, the temperature plummeting with each syllable. “If I ever see your face in this hospital again…”
The threat hung in the air, leaving the nurse’s panicked footsteps echoing down the corridor. Familiar arms enveloped me; I felt Eugene’s body trembling slightly.
“Victoria, my love, I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked with what seemed genuine remorse. “I should have been here sooner. I never meant for you to be treated this way. I’m so sorry…”
A bitter smile twisted my lips. Such righteous anger over a careless nurse, while he orchestrated the surgical theft of my future. Yet he held me tighter, as if he could protect me from the pain he'd inflicted.
“Take me home,” I whispered, feeling his warm breath on my neck. “Please… I can’t stay here anymore.”
His lips brushed my temple. “Soon, darling. After the doctors check you over, I’ll take you home myself.”
What Eugene failed to realize was that “home” held a different meaning for me—not his luxurious estate, but the Montgomery mansion in Boston.
Memories flickered: the family power struggle that forced my father to hide me in Eastbrook, though even there, danger found me. That rain-slicked night in the alley, lightning illuminating Eugene’s face as he stepped between me and the blade—my dark knight in designer armor. In that moment, I fell into the cliché of love at first sight.
We ended up at the same university, becoming the couple everyone envied—young love personified, turning heads wherever we went, inspiring envious whispers and dreamy sighs.
What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger.
Chapter 2
That’s when Claire entered our lives. My heart ached seeing her survive on food bank donations, her artistic talent withering in poverty. I became her patron, never suspecting I was nurturing the seed of my own destruction. Her gratitude seemed pure then—crystalline tears in earnest eyes as she hugged me, promising eternal friendship. We became inseparable, the wealthy benefactor and her gifted protégé. How exquisitely blind I’d been, missing the subtle signs: the lingering glances, the charged silences, the carefully orchestrated “accidental” meetings.
Eugene’s fingers traced my jawline. “Victoria, my love, let’s have our wedding tomorrow as planned. I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Thorne.”
The wedding I’d once dreamed of now loomed like a nightmare. “No,” I whispered.
His hands stilled; surprise was evident in his voice.
“Sweetheart,” he coaxed, uncharacteristically patient. “Everything’s perfect. No one will dare whisper about your… condition. Claire’s volunteered to be your maid of honor.”
“And Dempsey Montgomery himself will officiate—Boston’s elite patriarch. Remember? I promised you the grandest wedding imaginable.”
My fingers clutched his sleeve at my brother’s name. The Montgomerys remained blissfully unaware of my life in Eastbrook, of my engagement to Eugene. I’d severed ties after refusing an arranged marriage to some blue-blooded heir, choosing love over duty.
Bile rose in my throat imagining Dempsey’s face when he saw me—his proud sister, now a blind puppet in someone else’s game.
Suddenly, a weight fell against me, accompanied by a sickeningly sweet voice:
“Victoria!” Claire’s arms wound around me like python coils. “I’ve been so worried! Let me be your eyes now, I’ll take care of you forever…”