Chapter Three
Elena
We drove to the police station, and it became clear almost immediately that the Kingsley family had seized control of the situation—this was no longer a matter for the police.
Arthur's private attorney handed a document to the chief of police. "The maximum payout from any insurance company on the market wouldn't even cover the cost of materials for repairs."
"We have no intention of haggling with an insurer. We will be filing a civil suit directly against Miss Williams."
The chief glanced at the Kingsley family crest embossed on the document, and his expression shifted to one of careful deference.
And that formidable legal team—rather than exposing Chris's lies—had smoothly seized the current to their advantage, directing every piece of evidence and every line of accusation straight at me.
The full weight of that enormous debt fell on my shoulders alone.
This was Arthur's doing. He had engineered every bit of it.
By the time we finished the paperwork and walked out of the station, the rain was still pouring in sheets. Arthur glanced at the damage assessment with an air of bored indifference, then held it out to me.
"Thirty million."
"Elena. You can have your private bank initiate the transfer now."
I stood there, helpless.
Thirty million dollars.
Three years ago, that sum would have been little more than a casual investment for my grandfather—a rounding error in the Williams family ledger. But now, with my father under house arrest pending charges, the Williams name had crumbled overnight.
The only reason I had endured Chris's humiliations was to use the alliance of marriage to settle my father's debts. And yet here I stood, unable to produce even a million.
The longer my silence stretched, the colder the contempt in Arthur's eyes became.
"What's the matter? Where's that high-profile fiancé of yours?"
"As the future heir to the Prescott fortune, Chris can't be bothered to share thirty million dollars' worth of trouble with his own bride?"
"Or does he simply not think you're worth it?"
Before I could respond, he raised his hand and seized my jaw, gripping it hard, forcing my face up to meet his gaze.
"Elena."
My name sat on his lips like something bitter, something laced with a hatred that went bone-deep.
"In these three years—have you spared me a single second of thought?"
"Or have you thrown away everything that was mine, name and all, straight into the garbage?"
The questions came one after another. I felt the sharp pain radiating from my jaw, bit down on my lip, and said nothing.
Arthur studied my silence, apparently finding it unsatisfying. He let out a cold laugh and released his grip.
His personal assistant stepped forward and handed me a business card.
"One week. Either wire thirty million to that account—or pay the debt with yourself."
"Elena. Don't make me wait long."
The Williams estate. The grand European-style villa had once blazed with light at every hour; tonight it stood in the darkness looking hollow and dead.
I dragged my exhausted body inside. I hadn't even taken off my shoes when my mother's voice cut across the entryway.
"Elena! What are you doing back here? And in this state!"
"You were supposed to stay at the resort and keep Chris company tonight! Your father called from the detention center—he wants to know how things are going with Chris! Has the Prescott family agreed to invest? Why are you here alone? Where is Chris?!"
"Chris and Dorothy were playing with candle wax in the bedroom. They burned down half of the Kingsley family's antique resort."
I stood in the entryway and cut her off, my voice flat. "Property damage plus the assessment on the antique furnishings—thirty million dollars, total. The Kingsley legal team has already placed full liability on me."
"You—what did you just say?!"
My mother's composure shattered in an instant.
She lunged at me with a shriek, grabbing my arm with both hands.
"Thirty million?! How did you get mixed up with the Kingsley family? Chris is the one who did it—why should you have to pay?!"
"Did you have a fight with Chris in that room? I knew it—that dead expression of yours can never hold onto a man! Why didn't you just go along with him? Why didn't you help put the fire out?!"
A sharp, searing pain flared up my arm.
I looked down. Her pointed French-manicured nails had dug into flesh that was already burned, already raw. A thin line of blood was seeping through.
I wrenched my arm away with a single violent shake, throwing her hands off me.
"Chris was the one sleeping with Dorothy—that came first! They were in bed together, right in front of me, and they were the ones playing with fire! And when he ran, he left me unconscious in a smoke-filled burning room to die!"
"Then, to protect himself, he stood in front of the police and Arthur Kingsley and tried to pin every last bit of it on me!"
The words tore out of me, raw and ragged.
Inside, I felt nothing but cold.
This was my mother.
With the Williams family on the edge of ruin, she could not see that her own daughter had nearly burned to death tonight. All she could see was the Prescott family—that lifeline that might keep her afloat in the life of luxury she refused to give up.
"So what if he cheated? Men play around—that's normal! Your father had over a dozen mistresses over the years and I put up with every one of them!"
Her voice climbed into a shriek.
"Tomorrow morning—no, right now—you go to the Prescotts. You get down on your knees in front of Chris, in front of his parents, and you beg. You make them help you find a way out of this. If you can get Chris back on your side, the Prescotts will cover this money sooner or later!"
"You want me to get down on my knees for him?"
I stared at the woman who had raised me, fury giving way to a hollow, incredulous laugh.
"Mom—have your own knees been on the ground so long you've forgotten how to stand? You want me to crawl and beg forgiveness from two animals who degraded themselves in front of me?"
"I won't do it."
"You—how dare you talk to me like that?!" Her hand was shaking as she pointed at me.
"You don't have a choice! If the Williams family goes under, don't think for a second that you'll come out of it fine!" She slammed her bedroom door behind her.
The great hall was empty. I was the only one left in it.
I gave a short, bitter twist of my lips and turned to go upstairs.
Go crawling back to Chris? Never.
Even if the Williams family was liquidated by tomorrow, even if I was hauled off to prison the next moment, I would never lower myself to beg that man for anything.
There were things I simply would not do—and debasing myself before someone so contemptible was one of them. I would sooner be destroyed than trade my dignity for survival.
I showered and lay down on the bed, feeling hollowed out and adrift.
Every time I closed my eyes, Arthur's face from tonight surfaced unbidden—hard, cold, unreadable.
Thinking of him sent a dull, insistent ache through my chest, along with a deep and familiar sense of helplessness.
Three years ago, my family had already been quietly unraveling. The capital had dried up; the debts had mounted in secret. With nowhere left to turn, my parents had pressed me to enter an arranged marriage—something to salvage what remained of the family name.
Arthur, at the time, had just broken from his own family and was building himself from nothing.
On the day I ended things, he had begged me not to go. He promised, with everything he had, that he would find his footing soon—that he would protect me, provide for me, that I only had to stay.
I was caught between two impossible things: the family that had raised me, and the person I loved.
There was no other way out.
To make him let go—to stop him from ruining his future waiting for mine—I had forced myself to be cruel. I said things designed to cut. I pretended to despise his poverty, his uncertainty. With my own hands, I pushed him away.
And then fate delivered its verdict.
Three years later, the once-untouchable Miss Williams had fallen from grace. And the young man she had cast aside with her cruelest words had climbed to the very top.
But before I considered bowing to Arthur or to Chris, I had to exhaust every other option first.
