It wasn't that I didn't dare hit back. My parents had made it clear before I left: my identity was classified, and every word I spoke, every move I made, represented the facility's interests. I couldn't afford a scene.
"Fine. The wedding's off."
Scott's expression darkened. He clearly hadn't expected me to agree so easily.
I tore off the veil and turned to leave.
His voice cut through the air behind me, cold as a blade.
"Stop. Did I say you could go?"
My steps faltered. I turned to face him.
"What now? Got something else to say, Mr. Delgado? The wedding's canceled. There's nothing left between us."
Scott closed the distance until he towered over me, his tone dripping with arrogance.
"Apologize to Hester."
"Apologize? For what?"
A cruel smirk twisted his lips.
"For humiliating her in public. For embarrassing her so badly she cried for days. For the slap she just gave you—which hurt her own hand, by the way."
His voice dropped lower, possessive and final.
"And because Hester is my woman now."
I almost laughed. Actually, I did laugh—a short, disbelieving sound.
"Scott, if your brain's this broken, see a doctor. When exactly did I humiliate her in public?"
Hester stood off to the side, smug satisfaction plastered across her face.
"Oh, Ms. Summers has such a short memory. Three months ago, at your engagement party with Scott, I accidentally spilled a little wine on you. And you had me thrown out. You even forced me to pay damages..."
Her voice climbed higher, trembling with practiced hurt. She pouted, burrowed into Scott's chest, and let out a string of pitiful little sobs.
Now that she mentioned it, I did remember.
That engagement party had been nothing more than a cover—a convenient excuse to facilitate the covert handoff of a classified document. The whole event was theater.
Hester had barged up to me out of nowhere and splashed an entire glass of red wine down my front. The wine hadn't damaged the device concealing the classified files, but her behavior was suspicious enough to raise flags.
My superiors had assigned me a personal bodyguard who posed as a distant cousin. She'd interrogated Hester as a potential security threat and removed her from the venue.
But the claim about forced compensation? Pure fabrication.
Scott's gaze bored into me, venomous and sharp.
"You dared humiliate Hester like that. Today, you'll pay it back a hundred times over."