One second I was accepting an award in Milan, the next I was hooded and shoved onto a private jet. I woke at the Thorne estate. Mr. Silas Thorne was cheerfully playing chess with my grandfather. “It’s time we settled that marriage pact between your grandson and my granddaughter,” he said. While they negotiated, I slipped into the garden. Seeing a perfect rose, I reached for it—but a kick sent me stumbling down, my back burning. “Who’s this charity case touching my rose? The one Miss Thorne planted for me!” snarled a man surrounded by bodyguards. Before I could speak, he punched my face, leaving a bruise. “And now he’s stealing the engagement ring she made for me? Take it and teach him a lesson!” As the guards closed in, he smirked. “Time to clean up the riff-raff as the future Thorne son-in-law.” I glanced at the family heirloom ring on my finger, then texted my contact “Fiancée”: Isabelle Thorne, there’s a rabid dog in your garden. Are you handling this or not? 1 To my surprise, the message was immediately met with a red exclamation point. I let out a dry, humorless laugh. We hadn’t even finalized the engagement, and she’d already blocked me. “How did you sneak in here! Give Mr. Everton back his property this instant!” a housekeeper shrieked, lunging at me. I sidestepped her easily. “I am an honored guest of the Thorne family,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Is this how you treat your guests?” The man, Blake Everton, sneered and pulled out his own phone to call Isabelle Thorne—my supposed fiancée. A cool, melodious voice answered on the first ring. “What is it, Blake?” I listened closely. A nice voice. My type. Grandfather had good taste, at least. “Isabelle! There’s some pretty boy in your garden claiming to be a guest, and he stole the ring you gave me!” I cut through his whiny, dramatic tone, deciding to introduce myself before she got the wrong idea. “Miss Thorne, my name is Julian Moritz. I’m your fiancé.” There was a two-second pause as she processed the name. When she spoke again, her voice was glacial. “What fiancé? You need an invitation to enter the Thorne estate. Otherwise, you’ll be dealt with as a trespasser.” Then, her tone melted back into syrupy sweetness. “Blake, don’t be upset. It’s just a ring. I’ll buy you a new one when I get back.” My ring, a custom piece by a legendary French master, was my parents’ engagement ring. There wasn’t another one like it in the world. As I began to seriously question the wisdom of this alliance, Blake Everton doubled over with laughter. He raked his eyes over me with contempt. “You? Your clothes don’t even have a label, you piece of trash! And you have the nerve to call yourself Isabelle’s fiancé? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!” I had studied design abroad. The clothes I was wearing were my own creations, hence the lack of a brand name. My designs were already sought after by Europe’s elite, but this peacock couldn’t even recognize them. It made me question his credentials. The encounter had soured my mood. I turned to leave the garden. Blake blocked my path. “Didn’t you hear Isabelle? You need an invitation. You claim to be an honored guest, so where is it?” I rolled my eyes and reached into my pocket, but found nothing. I vaguely remembered my grandfather saying we wouldn’t need one. Seeing my empty hand, his smirk widened. “A liar, just as I thought! Men! Get the ring off him, tie him up, and throw him out!” I shielded the ring with my hand and took a step back, my expression hardening. A few of the maids approached me, their faces full of pity. “Sir, you should just give it back to Mr. Everton. You have no idea what he’s capable of.” “That’s right, that ring is a symbol of their love! They grew up together. Miss Thorne won’t let you get away with this.” “I saw it with my own eyes… a man just got a little dirt on Mr. Everton’s suit, and the next day, he’d lost a hand!” Their warnings only fueled Blake’s arrogance. “You hear that? Get on your knees, place the ring respectfully in my hand, and then get the hell out of here. Otherwise, you’ll end up just like the man who dirtied my suit.” 2 In my entire life, people had only ever kneeled to me. The last person who dared to speak to me like that was six feet under. I stepped forward and drove my fist into his face. His head snapped to the side, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You dare hit me?!” He clutched his cheek and screamed at his bodyguards, who immediately rushed me. A slow, cold smile spread across my lips. When I first went abroad, my grandfather, fearing I would be bullied, had personally taught me combat. A few untrained bodyguards were nothing. With a series of precise strikes, I sent them spinning, dazed and confused. “Pathetic.” I flexed my slightly numb knuckles and turned to leave, ignoring Blake’s enraged shrieks. Suddenly, a maid cried out, “Miss Thorne is back!” I looked up. A woman in a couture gown was striding toward us, her face a mask of cold fury. Blake’s vicious expression vanished, replaced by one of a wounded puppy. He grabbed Isabelle’s hand. “Isabelle! You’re finally back! I was being bullied so badly!” I had to admit, Isabelle Thorne was stunning. She could have easily made a name for herself in Hollywood. It was a shame, then, that even knowing she was engaged to me, she was cupping her childhood sweetheart’s face with such tender concern. I scoffed. I needed to get Grandfather and go home. This marriage was dead on arrival. I ignored their little drama and headed for the garden exit. “Hold it. You think you can just walk away after touching my man?” Isabelle didn’t even look at me. She gestured, and two of her bodyguards moved to block my path. I let out a long, weary sigh and turned to face her. “Miss Thorne, my grandfather is currently in your grandfather’s study discussing our engagement. If they find out about this, it won’t look good for you, will it?” At the mention of her grandfather, the maids’ expressions shifted. “What? Is he really her fiancé?” “Who cares? Look how protective she is of Mr. Everton. This marriage is probably off anyway.” “Exactly. We’d better not say the wrong thing and offend Mr. Everton. You know what he’s like.” The word “engagement” only seemed to darken Isabelle’s mood. “What marriage pact? I never agreed to it. Besides, my grandfather adores me. He would never force me to marry some broke nobody from god-knows-where.” Blake shot me a triumphant look over her shoulder. “Isabelle and I are soulmates. How dare a common thief dream of taking my place?” I nodded slowly. A perfect match of trash. They deserved each other. It’s just, my grandfather had told me that of all the families who had sought an alliance with ours, the Thornes had put in the most effort. I’d met Silas Thorne a few times; he was a good man. I could only imagine the storm that would erupt when he found out his own granddaughter had sabotaged the marriage he’d worked so hard to secure. But you can’t help it when a fine bamboo stalk produces a rotten shoot. 3 I shook my head in pity and was about to leave when Blake shouted, “Don’t let him go! The ring Isabelle gave me is still on his hand!” At a signal from Isabelle, the bodyguards seized me. They tried to wrench the ring off, but it was custom-fitted to my finger. They couldn't budge it. “Blake, if this is your ring, why does it fit my finger so perfectly?” I taunted. His face flushed with anger. “It’s because you’re fatter than me! You forced it on, that’s why it’s stuck!” he spat. “Get an electric saw!” My expression changed. This was bad. I hadn’t brought my own security. Isabelle’s bodyguards were huge and numerous. I fought back, but they quickly exploited an opening and slammed me to the ground. Blake squatted in front of me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He grabbed my chin. “Still acting tough? Weren’t you so tough a minute ago?” He slapped me hard across the face, the grit from the path scraping my cheek and drawing blood. Isabelle stared at me for a moment, then a cruel smile touched her lips. “Did that hurt your hand, Blake? Want to see something more fun?” His eyes lit up. “Tie him to the boat in the middle of the pond!” My own eyes widened in horror. I looked at her face, which was now glowing with a sick excitement. Did she know something? “No! You’ll regret this!” Blake laughed, a manic edge to his voice. “Regret? That word isn’t in my vocabulary. But you? You’re about to regret ever touching what’s mine.” The guards dragged me to the large pond in the center of the garden and threw me into a decrepit, rocking rowboat, tying me down with thick ropes. Before I could even open my eyes, they flipped me onto my stomach and brought an electric saw buzzing toward my hand. A scream tore from my throat as searing pain shot up my arm. The ring was instantly slick with my blood. “Looks like another one who didn’t know his place is about to lose his life.” “Such a handsome young man, too. If only he hadn’t been so stubborn. Miss Thorne will never let him go now. He’ll lose a finger, at least.” “This is too cruel. I can’t watch.” The maids and servants chattered on the edge of the pond, but their voices were already fading into a dull roar. I thrashed against the ropes, the old boat groaning and slapping against the water. The scene was sickeningly similar to the day my parents were lost at sea. A deep-seated terror clawed its way out from the depths of my mind. My face went deathly pale. My hands clamped over my head of their own accord, my own blood smearing down my cheeks. “No! Please! Let me up!” But Blake and Isabelle just stood on the bank, watching the show. Blake even kicked the boat, sending me drifting toward the center of the pond. Through a blur of pain and fear, I saw him smugly holding up my ring. Isabelle wrapped her arms around him. “It’s covered in that trash’s filthy blood,” she cooed. “Throw it away. I’ll buy you a new one.” Over my desperate screams, they casually tossed the ring into the water. “Isabelle Thorne! Aren’t you afraid of what my grandfather will do to you?!” 4 She just laughed, her eyes full of contempt, as if she were looking at garbage. “Your grandfather? Who does he think he is? The Moritz family is nothing but you and that old man now! You cursed your own parents to death, and he actually wants me to marry a jinx like you? He must be dreaming!” My world narrowed to a single point of pain. Cursed your own parents to death. The words were a knife, twisting in my heart. On my eighth birthday, my parents were on a cruise, sailing home to celebrate with me. A storm blew in, and the captain urged them to wait it out at port. But I had called them, crying, telling them I missed them. So they took a smaller boat themselves, trying to make it back in time. Just as they were nearing the shore, a monstrous wave, five meters high, rose from the sea and crashed down upon them. Their boat capsized right in front of my eyes. The memory, dragged up by Isabelle’s words, played over and over in my mind. I curled into a ball in the bottom of the boat, trembling, mumbling the same words again and again. “Dad… Mom… I’m sorry. I don’t want you to come back for my birthday anymore…” Blake clapped his hands in delight. “So he really is bad luck! No wonder he feels so cursed! Isabelle, we should stay away from him before we catch his bad luck!” No one abroad knew about my past. At home, Grandfather had forbidden anyone from ever mentioning it, even going so far as to have the lake on our own estate filled in, just so I wouldn’t have to see it. The guilt and grief had been buried for years, but now it erupted, and all I wanted was to throw myself into the water and atone for what I’d done. Suddenly, my phone rang. The custom ringtone I had set for my grandfather. A flicker of clarity cut through the fog in my mind. The Moritz family was just me and him now. He had lost his son and daughter-in-law. His pain was no less than mine. If I left him, too… I couldn’t bear to think of it. I took a shuddering breath, fighting the suicidal impulse, and struggled to reach my phone. But Blake saw. He had his men start throwing rocks at me. My body, already weak from the resurfacing trauma, was trembling uncontrollably. A rock hit my hand, and the phone skittered away, falling into the water. It flickered twice and went dark. The rocks also punched two large holes in the old boat. Icy water seeped in, chilling me to the bone. “Julian Moritz, didn't you want to join your parents? I’m giving you the chance! You should be thanking me!” Isabelle said, her arms crossed as she watched me sink. “And as for your grandfather, that old geezer, when he gets here, I’ll make sure your whole family has a reunion at the bottom of this pond!” I struggled weakly, but it was no use. Grandfather… I’m sorry… Just as the water closed over my nose, a familiar, heavy tread echoed from behind them. An ebony cane swung through the air. “I’d like to see who’s sending my family to its reunion!”
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