Chapter 9

CRYSTAL BURGESS POV:

I watched their retreating backs, the last vestiges of my old life walking away. They were gone. Truly gone this time.

I picked up my small, worn bag, the few belongings I had chosen to keep feeling impossibly light.

My father was already waiting by the car, his imposing figure silhouetted against the pre-dawn sky. His eyes were red-rimmed, glistening with unshed tears.

He pulled a thick fur cloak from the back seat, draping it carefully over my shoulders. Its warmth was a stark contrast to the cold emptiness inside me. He then pressed a heavy, bulging pouch into my hands. "Be safe, my dear," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Take care of yourself."

I climbed into the car, taking one last look at the cluster of lights that was our city, my former home. My eyes, once bright with childish dreams, now held only a fierce, cold resolve.

"I will, Dad," I promised, the words mechanical. "I will."

Miles away, at the edge of the city, Jorden suddenly stopped. "Something feels off," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, his eyes narrowed in thought. He looked deeply troubled. "Crystal... she didn't seem right. Not herself."

Connor said nothing, but his eye twitched, a nervous tic. He remembered my cold apartment, the scattered mess. He remembered my listless eyes, my pale face. A wave of regret, cold and sharp, washed over him. He found himself wishing, for the first time, that he hadn't agreed to this.

The silence hung heavy in the air.

Garrick, ever the rational one, broke it. "Perhaps we've pushed her too far."

Jorden kicked a nearby tree, the sound echoing in the stillness. He whirled around, his voice raw with anger. "Don't you dare! We worked this plan out together! I had to be the villain, the one who said all those awful things to her!" He paced back and forth, then stopped abruptly, staring at his hands. The hands that had gripped my throat, had lashed out with words meant to wound. His voice trembled. "What if she hates me forever? What if she never forgives me?"

His words were a jolt. A shared shudder ran through the three men. Suddenly, the carefully constructed plan, the noble intention to teach me a lesson, felt twisted and cruel. They had wanted to break me, then put me back together. Now, they just felt like monsters.

Jorden' s eyes widened in horror. "What if... what if she actually gets chosen for the arranged marriage? What if she ends up with the Mcintoshes?" He grabbed Connor's arm, his grip desperate. "We have to go back! Now!"

Connor held him back, his face pale. "No, Jorden. Her father would never allow that. He would never let her go to that place." His words were meant to be reassuring, but there was an unsettling tremor in his own voice. His eyes, usually so steady, were rimmed with red.

Jorden ripped his arm free. His face was dark with fury, but his voice was tight with anguish. "I'm done with this charade. We're going back. This ends now." He looked at Garrick and Connor, his gaze hardening. "No more games. No more acting. This plan is over."

Garrick and Connor exchanged a look. A silent agreement passed between them. The game was indeed over.