Page 69 of The Cruel Heir
He scoffed, his grip tightening around the ring in his pocket. "You don’t deserve to wear this. You think he loves you? You’re nothing but a pawn. A placeholder. He’ll get bored, and when he does, you’ll be just another discarded toy."
His words stung, but I refused to show it. I squared my shoulders, trying to reclaim even a fraction of control over this situation. "I said, give it back."
Instead of complying, his expression twisted, and before I could move, he shoved me, hard.
My back collided with a nearby pillar, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. Gasps echoed around us, more students stopping, whispering. The murmurs turned into a low roar of concern, but no one stepped in yet. No one helped. They all had their phones out, like this was the most amazing press of the year.
"You’re pathetic," Chadwick sneered, stepping closer. His hand snapped out and grabbed my throat. "Playing house with Kingsley, like you belong in his world. You’re just a means to an end. You really think he’s going to stay tied down to you?"
I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms, to keep from trembling as I choked. Why was he here? Why now?
A movement in the crowd caught my eye and, before I could process it, a hand slammed against Chadwick’s chest, shoving him back forcefully.
"Back the hell off," a deep voice growled.
I turned my head and found Frankie stepping between us, forcing Chadwick to let go of me, his expression a mixture of annoyance and lethal control. Another male student, a stranger, but tall and solid, flanked Chadwick from the other side. "What the hell is your problem, man? You don’t put hands on a pregnant woman."
“She’s not pregnant, she’s just fat,” he sneered.
“Can you believe this guy? Like he can’t see her round stomach, and the way her sweet boyfriend is always helping her around campus. It really isn’t hard to tell she’s pregnant, and you’re a dick,” a girl said.
I didn’t know her, but I was grateful for her words.
Chadwick’s nostrils flared as he looked between them, assessing. He had always been a coward, and now that he had eyes on him, real danger surrounding him, he hesitated.
"You don’t know what she is," Chadwick spat.
"I know she doesn’t belong to you," Frankie said coolly. "And, unless you want me to break something you actually care about, I suggest you leave. Now."
Chadwick's gaze flickered to me one last time, his eyes filled with something dark, hatred, jealousy, something unhinged. But he backed off, slipping away into the crowd.
I let out a shaky breath, my fingers instinctively reaching for my neck, only to be met with empty space.
The ring.
It was gone. Chadwick had taken it.
I made it to the girls' bathroom before the first sob cracked loose.
Not the loud kind. Not theatrical.
Just the quiet, sharp kind, that punches through your ribs and steals your breath.
I locked myself in the last stall, gripping the sides of the toilet like it could anchor me. My thighs trembled. My palms were slick.
He had been right there.
The casual way his voice slithered down my spine. I could still smell his cheap cologne, musk and threat, and I swore I’d never be clean again.
I didn’t cry when Sterling forced me.
I didn’t cry when my father replaced me with a woman who mocked my pain.
But here, in the fluorescent quiet of a college bathroom, I cried.
Because no one stopped it.
Because no one would believe me if I told them.
