Chapter 4My Wallet, His Rules

A few days later, I was at the office when a frantic call came from the estate manager of the house I was preparing for my marriage. "Miss Thorne, it's terrible! Mr. Vance is here with Miss Summers, and they're tearing the house apart!"

I raced over. The moment I pushed open the door, the scene inside felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

The furniture I had personally selected was being brutally dismantled. The custom murals on the walls were being scraped off by workmen without a second thought. Georgia was nestled against Aiden’s side, watching the destruction with a triumphant smirk.

"Aiden! What gives you the right to touch my house?" I demanded, storming toward him.

He shot me a cold sneer. "This is mine and Georgia's home now. If you try to stop this, don't blame me for not showing up to your little engagement party."

"Aiden, maybe we should just leave…" Georgia murmured, feigning concern while her eyes gleamed with victory.

"Don't be silly, Georgia," Aiden said, pulling her closer. "Only you deserve a place like this."

"Get out of my house! Now!" I screamed.

Aiden just laughed and waved the workers on.

Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed from above. The crystal chandelier, a piece worth a fortune, had come loose. It was plummeting directly toward me.

Aiden reacted in a flash, yanking Georgia out of the way.

I was standing right under it.

I saw his eyes flicker to me, just for a second, but he didn't move. Not an inch.

The immense weight crashed onto my back, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. A searing pain shot through me, and my legs gave out. I could feel warm liquid streaming down my back.

"Help… me…" I gasped, reaching a trembling hand toward him.

But then Georgia let out a shriek. "My leg! The glass cut my leg, Aiden, it hurts so much!"

Aiden looked from me, bleeding on the floor, to Georgia and her superficial scratch. He hesitated for only a second.

Without another thought, he scooped Georgia into his arms, turning his back on me.

"Just hang on, Isabelle, I'll call an ambulance for you. I have to get Georgia to the hospital, she's in pain."

With those words, he rushed out the door.

Lying in the wreckage, watching his retreating back, I started to laugh. A raw, broken sound. So this was my worth in his eyes. My life wasn't even as important as a tiny cut on Georgia's leg.

Blood soaked through my dress as my vision began to blur. Through the haze, I heard the sound of frantic footsteps.

"Isabelle!"

A familiar voice, laced with a panic I'd never heard before.

Caleb. He dropped to his knees beside me, carefully avoiding the glass shards as he gently scooped me into his arms. His hands were trembling, but his grip was so light, so terrified of causing me more pain.

"Stay with me. We're almost at the hospital."

I leaned against his warm chest, the faint scent of tobacco and something uniquely him surrounding me. This man, always so wild and defiant, was now holding me as if I were made of spun glass.

He moved with a speed that was almost desperate, yet his steps were steady, cradling me against the jarring motion. I could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic, thunderous rhythm.

"Doctor! Somebody help her!" he yelled, his voice cracking with a raw, desperate edge.