CHAPTER 58: SPIRITED AWAY

SAINT

"Have we met before?" I asked. The way he’d called me Cinderella reminded me of the dream (memory?). The man hidden in the shadows of the balcony had called me Cinderella, too.

"Have we?" He boomeranged the question back at me, so I figured he didn’t want to answer.

Gibson leaned into the shadows, presumably to whisper information into the pointed ear of the devil.

"Excuse me for a moment, Miss Saint." He unfolded from the chair and retreated deeper into the shadows. I heard a door open and close. Even Gibson left.

Heart burdened with worry and shame, I felt hot tears gather in my eyes. Getting the assistance of Devon Thorne had been a long shot.

I straightened my shoulders, lifted my head, and strode out of the room. My wet shoes slapped against the marble flooring as I exited the king of hell’s domain.

I managed to get to the end of the hallway before I collapsed against the wall.

No money, no home, no family.

This morning I had been Annabeth Saint, eldest daughter of the Saints and heir to Rosefield’s Jewels—my mother’s jewelry company. I was also secretly Mei Ling, the designer of the popular Firefly Desires line for Rosefield’s.

At least, that had been my life. Mere hours after my strange dream had woken me, I’d been kicked out of my own family, robbed of my inheritance and my fiance, fired from my job, and sold to a perverted old man.

To top it off, I’d been rejected by the only person in Ash City who could protect me.

I leaned against the wall, the weight of my despair threatening to crush me. The hum of the club’s pulsating music and the distant murmur of voices infiltrated my swirling thoughts.

The club’s name was Yíngmèng---Firefly Dream.

Like me, Devon Thorne admired fireflies. It was part of his company’s logo. Funny how we had that in common. Useless, but funny.

A plum blossom tree. An injured boy. A moonlit night. And fireflies.

This wisp of a memory haunted me often.

When I was seven, my mother and I had been kidnapped. How, where, and why were questions never answered because I was left at the front gate of the villa, battered, bruised, and unconscious.

My mother’s body was found later.

Not that anyone knew the truth. My father had crafted a different narrative: His wife and daughter had gone hiking and fell off a cliff. Only I had survived.

Physical and mental trauma had damaged my early memories, and I’d forgotten details about the kidnapping as well as a large part of my childhood. Not to mention most remembrances of Mama.

Mama had been reduced to a loving smile, a soft voice, a gardenia scent.

Six months after my mother’s death, my father married his mistress Estelle and brought her and their daughter Giselle into the villa that had been part of my mother’s dowry.

Back then, I’d lost my memories, my mother, and my father’s love. I’d been left broken at the gates of my own home, then turned into a ghost floating among the debris of my once vibrant life. I’d spent years swallowing the spiky pain of grief, choking on the humiliation I suffered daily.

And today? I’d lost everything else.

My father had sold me like livestock to a man who had a violent history and no conscience. My beloved maternal grandmother would no longer get the vital care she needed for her illness. My ownership of my mother’s jewelry company had been signed away. And the family marriage with the Lee family had been given to her half-sister. At least getting rid of my fiance wasn’t a loss. Giselle could have him. He was a skirt chaser with zero respect for females.

Dad didn’t give a damn about his first wife’s legacy or about his eldest daughter’s life. He was driven by greed. He craved wealth, power, and respect.

I was fodder for his ambitions.

Devon Thorne—the CEO ruthless enough to protect me—had looked into my soul and found me worthless.

I had gambled on him, betting my dignity and my last shred of hope.

And I’d lost.

A choked sob escaped my lips, and I pressed my hand over my mouth to stifle it.

What now?

"Hello, baby doll." A man’s deep voice whispered in my ear seconds before an arm locked around my waist, yanking me backward.

I slapped at the arm pinned around me. "Let me go! Right now!"

A familiar chuckle made me shudder as the man released me. Heart pounding and fists clenched, I whirled around ready to throw hands at the pervert.

My ex-fiance Sean Lee stood in front of me, hands in his pockets. He wore his usual flashy designer clothing and his trademark smirk. He was, unfortunately, very good-looking, and he knew it.

Perfect. All this horrible night needed was my worthless brother-in-law. The adrenaline spike of fear settled in my belly like a greasy hamburger. Stomach roiling with nausea, I stepped backward, still feeling the anxiety of fight-or-flight.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Trying to rescue a damsel in distress."

By scaring me to death, I thought sourly. "I’m not a damsel."

"You’re the very definition of a damsel, Annabeth. And you’re definitely in distress." He gestured to the ornate door across the hall. "I’m hosting a party later in my private box. Lucky for you, it’s empty right now. Come inside. You can change clothes."

"Hmph. You just happen to have women’s clothing?"

"I have a closet full of dresses my girlfriends have left behind. You’re welcome to any of them."

"You still have girlfriends even with a fiance? If Giselle finds out, she’ll cut off your dangly bits."

He barked with laughter. "Giselle has her own playmates. She doesn’t care about mine."

"I can see you two are going to have a healthy, long-lasting marriage."

"It’s a family marriage," he said. "Why do you think it was so easy to switch the brides? Now that you’re out of the Saint Family, Giselle is in. What do I care? A bitch is a bitch."

"I forgot how delightful you are."

He grasped my wrist. "You need dry clothes or you’ll catch a cold. C’mon. It’ll only take a few minutes, and I won’t bother you. Consider it compensation for my past bad behavior."

Sean nodded toward the door, and I hesitated.

Should I trust him?