Chapter 3

Jeanette sauntered over, her face triumphant. "See? He' ll always choose us. You' re nothing."

The crowd' s eyes were on Ember, a suffocating weight of pity and scorn. She stood there, her torn dress a symbol of her shredded dignity, the cool night air a cruel kiss on her exposed scars. She felt nothing. It was as if she were watching a movie about someone else' s life.

She remembered a time, before the accident, when a drunk investor had been rude to her at a party. Julian had calmly, but firmly, escorted the man out and had spent the rest of the night with his arm protectively around her.

That Julian was gone. Or maybe he had never existed at all.

She walked out of the gala, a ghost leaving her own haunting. She didn't bother calling a car. The long walk through the city streets felt like a necessary penance, though for what, she no longer knew.

She was a block from her apartment when a dark van screeched to a halt beside her. Two large men jumped out.

"Ember Tucker?" one of them grunted.

Before she could answer, they grabbed her, dragging her into a dark alley. The stench of garbage filled her nostrils. One man slammed her against a brick wall, the rough surface scraping her cheek.

"This is a warning," he snarled, his breath hot and foul. "Estelle Murphy says to stay the hell away from her man."

The other man laughed. "A scarred-up bitch like you should know her place."

They didn't hold back. Pain exploded in her stomach, then her ribs. They were professionals, their blows precise and brutal, meant to hurt but not to kill. They threw her to the ground, kicking her until her vision started to fade at the edges.

"Stay down, trash," one of them said, spitting near her head. Then they were gone.

She lay on the filthy ground for a long time, the pain a dull, throbbing beat that matched her heart. With a groan, she pulled out her phone. Her hands were shaking so badly it took three tries to dial 911. Before she called, she pressed the record button on her voice memo app. Just in case.

She managed to get herself to the emergency room. The police came, took her statement. She played them the recording of the thugs mentioning Estelle's name. The officer looked sympathetic but noncommittal.

She was lying in a hospital bed, a patchwork of bruises and bandages, when Julian finally showed up. He looked tired and full of a manufactured remorse.

"Ember. My God. I just heard. I' m so sorry."

He sat by her bed, trying to take her hand. She pulled it away.

"I' ve dealt with Jeanette," he said, his voice heavy with false authority. "I' ve cut off her credit cards and sent her to our family' s estate in the countryside. She won' t bother you again."

He looked at her, expecting gratitude.

"What about Estelle?" Ember asked, her voice hoarse.

Julian' s face tightened. "Stel had nothing to do with this. It was all Jeanette. She' s just a spoiled brat who acted out."

"They said her name, Julian," Ember said, her voice rising with a strength she didn' t know she had. "The men who attacked me. They said Estelle sent them." She reached for her phone. "I have a recording."

He didn' t let her play it. He reached over and turned off the phone, his movements sharp and commanding. The charming, immature boy was gone, replaced by the cold, ruthless CEO of the Copeland empire.

"Stop it, Ember," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Don' t you think I have enough to deal with? My sister is a mess, the press is having a field day, and you' re making these wild accusations. I' m disappointed in you."

Disappointed. The word was a slap in the face.

"We are getting married," he continued, as if that were the end of the discussion. "I' ve already spoken to the police. The report has been withdrawn. We will handle this internally. It' s better for the family."

He stood up, his authority absolute. He was protecting his world, and she was just a messy complication within it.

Just then, his phone rang. The screen lit up with Estelle' s name.

"Julian, darling," came Estelle' s tearful voice, loud enough for Ember to hear. "I' m so scared. I think someone is following me."

Julian' s entire demeanor changed. He was instantly back to being her protector, her hero. "Where are you? Don' t move. I' m on my way."

He hung up and started for the door.

"Julian, wait," Ember said. It was the first time she had ever asked him for anything. Her voice was small, broken. "Please. Don' t go. Stay with me."

He hesitated at the door, his back to her. For a single, heart-stopping moment, she thought he might stay.

Then he turned, his face a mask of strained patience. "Ember, I have to go. Estelle is terrified. You' re safe here in the hospital. I' ll be back later."

He left.

The door clicked shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silent room.

Ember stared at the empty doorway, and a single tear traced a path through the grime on her cheek. Then another. Soon, she was crying, but she was also smiling. A strange, broken, liberated smile.

He would always choose Estelle. And now, finally, she could choose herself.