Chapter 2

Ryder's POV

Mary Collins was crying over Henry Davis again.

The same girl who used to walk around Chicago with two bodyguards trailing behind her was now standing alone in Kingsley Arena wearing a cheap sweater and clutching a discarded engagement ring like it was the last thing keeping her alive.

I should've enjoyed seeing her like this. Instead, I wanted to break someone's neck.

My eyes followed her trembling figure.

Three years had changed her. She wasn't the skinny sixteen-year-old princess next door anymore. Her chestnut hair fell in messy waves around her tear-stained face, and even looking completely destroyed, she was still painfully beautiful.

Davis was a fucking idiot.

Mary glared at me with the same hatred she'd carried since her Sweet Sixteen party.

She never knew why I nearly beat Henry unconscious that night.

She never heard the disgusting bet he'd made in the locker room.

How fast he could get her into bed.

So I let her hate me.

I let her scream that she never wanted to see me again before I left for Canada.

But fate had a twisted sense of humor.

My father dragged me back to Chicago for Kingsley University just in time to hear the Collins Group had collapsed overnight.

The news should've made me happy.

Part of me did. Because for the first time in her life, Mary Collins was finally free from the gilded cage her father built around her.

No bodyguards. No walls. No golden prison disguised as protection.

And yet, instead of feeling satisfied, all I could think about was her.

And now she was standing right in front of me. Broken. Vulnerable. Reachable. 

"Look at you," I mocked, intentionally hitting her weakest spot to make her stop crying over that asshole. "Crying over a guy who wouldn't even look at you if your daddy's bank account was empty. How pitiful."

Her eyes welled with tears. Instead of fighting back, she spun around and ran down the hall, shoving the women's restroom door open at the end of the corridor.

I clicked my tongue. Shit.

I followed her and pushed the door open.

She stood with her head bowed over the sink, hands gripping the marble edge. She immediately noticed my presence in the mirror.

"Get out!" she hissed, her voice cracking. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

I leaned against the doorframe, both hands in my pockets. "You’re definitely not the Princess I used to know."

She turned around, glaring at me.

"Stop calling me that!" she sobbed. "Why are you so goddamn annoying, Ryder?! Look at me! Look at what’s happened! I have nothing left! I’m not that girl anymore, so stop using that stupid name!"

"Then prove it," I said coldly, closing the distance between us. "Prove that you actually have some dignity left. Stop crying over a pathetic piece of trash and act like you actually belong here."

Her lip trembled, my words pushing her right to the edge. "But I love him..." she whispered as a fresh tear slid down her cheek.

And just like that, the proud girl I remembered shattered completely. She covered her face with both hands, letting out a raw sob. Her shoulders shook as she wept. "I really love him. It hurts so much... God, why is this world so cruel to me?"

Hearing the word 'love' leave her mouth for that guy made my jaw clench.

I stepped closer, brushing a tear from her cheek with my thumb. The contact made her breath hitch.

"Dry your tears, Mary. It's fucking pathetic," I murmured roughly. "You're crying because you haven't realized there are men out there who are ten times the man he is. Men who wouldn't treat you like a goddamn stray."

Her eyes widened.

"Don't pretend you care about me," she hissed, resisting my touch even though she didn't push it away. "I know you. Deep down, you’re probably thrilled to see me this broken."

Pissed, I flipped our positions. I pushed her shoulders back until her spine hit the bathroom tiles. I caged her in, planting both palms flat against the wall.

She gasped and stared up at me, shocked.

"You're right. I don't care about your tears," I whispered, dipping my head. "But I do care about destroying Henry."

I studied her for a second… then smirked.

"Then stop loving him," I muttered. "Or better yet—make him regret it."

"He threw you away because he thinks you're worthless now. So let's prove him wrong. I'm offering you a deal, Mary," I said, letting every word sink into her brain. "Be my girl. Date me. Show up with me everywhere he goes. I’ll make that bastard fall on his knees and regret the day he ever let you go."

My gaze dropped to her lips before snapping back to her eyes. "And as a bonus? I’ll make you forget he ever existed."

Her breath caught.

"You're out of your mind." Mary shoved both hands against my chest. "And you think you're any better than him?" she spat. "I remember exactly who you are, Ryder. You were a ruthless playboy breaking hearts back then, and you're even worse now. Don't think for a second you can use me just because I've hit rock bottom."

Before I could respond, she shoved past me and headed for the exit.

A dark chuckle left my throat.

"Run all you want, Princess," I called after her lazily. "You'll come looking for me tonight."

She stopped for half a second.

Her amber eyes flashed with fury as she glanced back over her shoulder.

Then she walked away without another word.

The second she disappeared from sight, silence settled around me again.

I rubbed my jaw slowly, replaying the fire in her eyes.

Shit.

She was still fierce.

And I fucking loved it.

---

Mary's POV

He had to be joking. Date him? Bullshit. Ryder didn’t do things like this unless there was something in it for him. This had to be another game. Another way to mess with me.

And yet…

He was the only one who hadn’t laughed. The only one who didn’t look at me like I was nothing.

If this was a way to make Henry regret everything, would it really be so wrong?

My mind was a chaotic mess the entire cab ride home. Tears streamed down my face, stinging with the fresh betrayal of what Henry had done.

The cab pulled up to a modest apartment complex. I dragged my exhausted feet inside, and the moment I opened the door, the rich smell of warm chicken stew hit me. It was a cruel irony. I used to be welcomed by a line of staff in a grand foyer, and now, the scent of a cramped kitchen was the only thing that felt like home.

"Oh, you're back, Sweetie?" Elena emerged from behind the kitchen curtain, wiping her hands on her apron.

Seeing her warm, wrinkled face, my chest tightened painfully. Elena was my former nanny, the only person who hadn't abandoned me. For the past month, she had taken me in, letting me stay in her home and doing everything she could to make this place feel safe.

Her smile faltered the second she saw my face. "Oh my God. What happened? Did someone hurt you?" She rushed over, and that was all it took. My walls crumbled. I collapsed against her shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Shh... I'm here," she murmured, gently guiding me to the sofa. "Tell me what happened. You were supposed to see Henry today. Why are you crying like this?"

"Henry..." I choked out, struggling to breathe through my tears. "He has a new girlfriend, Elena. He dumped me... and gave the ring back."

Her eyes went wide with shock. "What? Henry did that?"

"He's changed, Elena. He was so cruel..."

Her jaw instantly hardened. "That ungrateful boy," she spat. "After everything your family did for his? He dares to do this to you?" She pulled me into a fierce hug, stroking my hair. "Let him go, Sweetie. A coward like him doesn't deserve a single drop of your tears. You are worth so much more than this."

"But how can I..."

"Shh... stop crying," she whispered softly. "Your mother would be heartbroken if she saw you wasting your tears on that bastard. You have to be strong. For her. And for yourself."

Her words anchored me. She was right. I was a fool for holding on to Henry. He was trash, and I refused to let him destroy whatever was left of me.

I should have seen it coming. Losing everything didn't just strip away my wealth; it stripped away the masks of everyone around me. It taught me a brutal lesson: when you hit rock bottom, the hypocrites scatter—starting with the one you trusted the most.