Chapter 3Trial by Fire

I didn't have much to pack. I left the engagement ring on his desk. Downstairs, the butler stopped me. "Ms. Peyton." He was polite, but his eyes were cold. "A gift from Mrs. Thorne, Senior. She requests you receive it." He was holding a carved wooden box, but it was strange. It was sealed, with just a single hole at the top, like a lottery drum. "Please return it. The wedding is off." The household staff blocked my path. "I'm afraid I can't do that, miss. My instructions are to ensure you 'receive' it." Fine. I'd give it to Grayson later. I stuck my hand in the hole. A searing, electric pain shot up my arm. I screamed and yanked my hand back. The box fell, and a swarm of angry hornets boiled out, flying straight at my face. I grabbed a pillow, but they were relentless. Sienna was leaning against the doorway, watching. "Oh, by the way," she called out, "that salve I gave you for your cuts? It's infused with honey." I was being stung, over and over, on my face, my neck, my hands. Grayson burst in, his face a mask of terror. He ripped off his suit jacket and threw it over my head, smothering the insects. … I woke up in a hospital. A Thorne-owned hospital. I heard voices. "Gray, it's not our fault. She agreed to the trial." "It was just hornets. I even had the doctor mix a mild paralytic into her salve. The venom... it's just a temporary neurotoxin. In an hour, her hands will be too shaky to hold a scalpel. Ever." "You always said you wanted her to be a stay-at-home wife. This just... helps." My blood ran cold. My hands. I fumbled for my phone, knocking a plastic cup over. "Elara? You're awake." Grayson rushed in. "Are you in pain?" I grabbed his wrist. "Gray, I heard them. Call a real doctor. My hands. Please, they're going to ruin my hands. Please!" He knew what my career meant to me. He knew my hands were my life. He looked at my desperate, pleading face. And he said nothing. He just looked away. "Elara," he said, his voice flat. "You misheard. Your hands are fine. You don't need surgery." The lie, combined with the growing numbness in my fingers, made me frantic. I tried to get out of bed. "I need... I need to call 911." Sienna appeared and planted her high heel hard on my injured hand. I screamed. "Who are you going to call, little orphan?" she sneered. "In this city, no one helps you. Not when the Thornes are involved." "Why?" I sobbed, the tears and the venom and the betrayal mixing into one agonizing wave. "I told you I loved him! I passed your tests! Why are you still doing this? Why are you destroying my hands?" Grayson just watched, his face impassive. "Elara, it's just a job. Is being my wife so bad?" He turned and spoke to the guards at the door. "Don't let her leave." He was locking me in. He was letting this happen. The light in my world went out. The most twisted part? As he left, I heard his friend ask, "Why don't you just dump her and marry Sienna?" And Grayson's voice, firm and resolute. "Never. My mother may not like her, but I will only ever marry Elara. I love her, and she loves me. It's forever." No, Grayson, I thought, as the feeling left my fingers. It's over.