Chapter 2

Allie Bridges POV:

The voices inside August' s office started up again, pulling me back from the edge of my personal abyss.

"She's a gold-digger, you know," Liam said, his voice a low sneer. "Always has been. You're better off without her, August. Caroline's always been the real deal."

Gold-digger. The word hit me, sharp and undeserved. Yes, I had come to August seeking security, a refuge from the family who had cast me out. But somewhere along the way, I had truly fallen in love. My initial intentions had blurred, replaced by genuine affection. But they wouldn't know that. They wouldn't care.

"Yeah," Noah agreed, "Allie always seemed a bit too... convenient. Popping up just when you needed someone to help you process the Caroline situation."

Convenient. That' s what I was. A convenient distraction, a convenient lesson. The casual dismissiveness in their voices, the way they dissected my existence as if I were a problem to be solved, fueled the cold ember in my chest. It was growing, hot and fierce.

I couldn't stand it anymore. My legs, still shaky, found their strength. The velvet box slipped from my fingers, clattering softly on the polished hardwood floor, the sound a faint echo against the roar building in my ears. I pushed the door open, the sudden creak loud in the hushed room.

August, Liam, and Noah looked up, their faces registering a fleeting surprise before August's hardened into a cool mask. He was standing by his large mahogany desk, a half-empty glass of amber liquid in his hand. Liam and Noah were sprawled on the leather couches, looking far too comfortable in my shattered home.

"Allie?" August's voice was devoid of warmth, a stark contrast to the tender tone he had used for Caroline moments ago. "What are you doing here?"

My voice, when it came out, was a raw whisper. "A training exercise? Is that what I was to you, August? Three years of my life, my love, my devotion... all a 'training exercise'?"

August didn't flinch. He simply set his glass down, the clink of glass on wood sounding impossibly loud. "Allie, you heard wrong. It's not what you think." His eyes held no apology, no remorse. Just a blank wall.

"Don't lie to me!" The whisper gave way to a ragged shout. My voice cracked, tears streaming down my face. "I heard everything! You used me. You used me to learn how to win back Caroline. How could you? How could you be so cruel?"

He finally met my gaze, his eyes like chips of ice. "What did you expect, Allie? You came to me. Disowned, desperate. You needed security, and I offered it. We both got something out of this, didn't we?" He gestured vaguely around the opulent penthouse. "This life. The connections. You enjoyed it."

"I loved you!" The words ripped from my throat, guttural and painful. "I truly loved you, August!" My chest ached, a sharp, stabbing pain.

He let out a short, humorless laugh. "Love? Allie, let's not be naive. You needed a safe harbor. I needed a distraction, someone uncomplicated while I sorted things out." His gaze swept over my tear-stained face, devoid of any pity. "You were easy to read. Easy to handle. Easy to... replace."

His words were poison, dripping slowly into my open wounds. "Easy to replace?" I choked, my voice barely audible. "Is that what you think of me? That I'm so disposable?"

"You came into this knowing what you wanted, Allie," he said, his voice gaining a hard edge. "Don't pretend you were a wide-eyed innocent. You had a plan. You targeted me. Let's just say my plan was better executed."

He walked over to his desk, pulled out his checkbook, and scrawled something quickly. He ripped it out and held it out to me. A blank check. "Here. For your troubles. For your 'three years.' Fill in whatever you think it's worth. And then, I suggest you leave. We're done."

My hand trembled as I stared at the check, then at his impassive face. This was it. The final dismissal. He wanted to buy me off. Erase me with money.

"You think money can fix this?" I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears. "You think you can buy back my dignity?"

He didn't answer, just stared at me, his jaw tight. Liam and Noah watched, silent, from the couch. Their stares felt like daggers.

"Get out, Allie," August said, his voice flat. "This is over."

He turned his back, walking towards the window, presenting his broad shoulders as a final, unbreachable wall. He didn't spare me another glance.

Liam, ever the practical one, cleared his throat. "Allie, he's right. It's time to go. You got a good deal for three years. Don't push it."

I looked down at the blank check in my hand, then at the velvet box on the floor. The ring, the symbol of my foolish hope, lay there, mocking me. Anger, cold and pure, surged through me. With a guttural cry, I tore the check into a hundred tiny pieces, letting them flutter to the floor like pathetic snowflakes.

"I don't need your blood money!" I spat, my voice hoarse. "Keep your damn check!"

I turned to Liam, my eyes blazing. "Who is she? Caroline Pate. What is she to August?"

Liam exchanged a glance with Noah, a silent agreement passing between them. "She's his ex," Liam said slowly, "the one he was always meant to be with. The one he never got over. Now, if you'll excuse us."

They offered no further explanation, their faces closed off. There was nothing more to say, nothing more to learn from them. Just the stark, brutal truth of my situation.

I stumbled out of the penthouse, the door clicking shut behind me, sealing my fate. The cold night air hit my face, refreshing the tears that still flowed freely. I walked aimlessly, my feet carrying me through the silent streets of Silicon Valley. Each step felt heavy, burdened by the weight of my broken heart and shattered dreams.

Snow began to fall, soft and swirling, dusting the pavement. It reminded me of the promises August had whispered in my ear, promises that had felt so real, so solid, just like the snowflakes appearing, only to melt away into nothing.

He had promised me a future, a home, a love that would last forever. "You're different, Allie," he had said, holding my hand, his thumb tracing patterns on my skin. "You're everything I never knew I needed." Liar. All of it. A calculated performance for his "training exercise."

I had come to August, yes, broken and disowned by my family. I had sought his wealth, his stability, his protection. I wouldn't deny that. But as the months turned into years, the initial calculation had melted away, replaced by something real, something vulnerable. I had truly believed in us. I had truly fallen in love. And he had taken that genuine love and crushed it underfoot.

With no job, no apartment, and now, no August, I had only one place left to go. The place I swore I would never return to. My father's house.

The heavy oak door of the Bridges' mansion felt like a portal to a past I had desperately tried to escape. When the maid opened it, my father, Mr. Bridges, stood in the foyer, his face a mask of disapproval.

"Look what the cat dragged in," he said, his voice icy, his eyes raking over my disheveled appearance. "Lost your golden goose, have we, Allie?"

My stepmother, Mrs. Pate, emerged from the living room, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. "Allie, dear. What a surprise. We heard things weren't going so well with Mr. Armstrong. Such a shame." Her eyes, however, sparkled with malicious glee.

"You always did aim too high, Allie," my father continued, his words like sharp needles. "A girl like you, with your... pedigree, should know her place. August Armstrong was never going to make you his wife. He's far too discerning."

The exhaustion, the betrayal, the humiliation of the past few hours combined with my father's cruel words. Something inside me snapped. The dam broke. All the years of being second best, of being dismissed, of being the unwanted daughter, surged to the surface.

"Pedigree?" I spat, my voice shaking with a fury I hadn't known I possessed. "You want to talk pedigree, Father? Let's talk about yours, and where you found your current 'discerning' wife!" The words were out before I could stop them, raw and venomous.