Amara's face turned a deep shade of purple, her fury barely contained.
With the help of his bodyguards, Dylan straightened up and pushed Amara behind him in a protective gesture—just like he had three years ago.
"Elaine, no matter how much you cling to me, I will never give you another chance," Dylan said, his voice colder than I had ever heard it. "I love Amara's purity and gentleness. In her world, there's only me. Unlike you, who only cares about your stage and your reputation. You took my money, climbed up on the Hartman name, and showed your selfish, materialistic core. A woman like you will never have my love."
His gaze was ice-cold, full of disdain, like I was nothing more than trash to him.
"I don't care what you've been up to these past three years, or how you wormed your way into this party," Dylan sneered. "But at my family's doorstep? A cripple like you doesn't even have the right to show your face with us, Elaine."
With a flick of his wrist, a group of burly bodyguards moved in, circling me like predators closing in.
"Elaine, how dare you lay a hand on Amara!" Dylan spat. "I crippled you once, and I can do it again. Believe me, I'll make sure you never walk properly again, not for the rest of your life."
But I wasn't afraid, nor did I retreat. I locked eyes with Dylan, meeting his murderous glare head-on as I sauntered toward him.
"Dylan," I said, my voice resolute, "you'd better remember every word you said today. Because when the day comes, and you're kneeling at my feet, begging me, I'll give them all back to you, one by one, exactly as they are."
Right then, Dylan's face twisted further with rage.
My mind wandered to a memory from three years ago. I recall signing my lifetime contract as the principal dancer with the Swan Ballet Company.
It was the highest honor in the world of ballet.
But more importantly, it was the dream that my mom and I had devoted our entire lives to.
Elaine's POV
It only took one lie from Amara and Dylan's insane need to control everything for him to crush my leg. The snap of my bones was a sound far worse than the crack I heard when Amara's wrist broke tonight.
I collapsed in a pool of my own blood, the pain almost knocking me out cold. But somehow, I still managed to inch closer to him, begging him to take me to the hospital.
"Dylan, please, my leg…"