Chapter 6
Isla looked up, startled, meeting Rhett’s stunned expression. Instinctively, she touched her wrist–where the bracelet rested.
Back when he was blind, she’d wear it every time she visited. He couldn’t see it, but he’d always find it when he held her hand, fingers tracing over the stones.
He used to ask her what gems were inlaid, curious, almost boyish. She never answered–just smiled and let him guess.
Now, without a word from her, Rhett grabbed her wrist, his voice sharp.
“Answer me. Why do you have this? Who the hell are you?”
The fact that he didn’t recognize her, but recognized the bracelet… It landed like a punch to the gut.
Isla opened her mouth, emotions choking her throat.
But Arabella got there first.
“You took my bracelet without asking?” she gasped, wide–eyed. “Isla, what is wrong with you?”
She stormed over and tried to yank the bracelet off Isla’s wrist. Her nails raked across Isla’s hand, drawing blood.
Isla winced, pulling away—just as Arabella staggered backward and collapsed to the floor.
Rhett’s entire expression shifted. He rushed to Arabella, pulling her into his arms like she was made of glass, then turned on an icy glare.
“I can’t believe I thought—”
His jaw clenched. “So you stole Arabella’s bracelet, and when she called you out, you attacked her? That’s disgusting, Isla.”
The sheer speed of his judgment made Isla go
cold.
No hesitation. No question. Just instant condemnation.
She lifted her bleeding hand, voice shaking–not with fear, but something deeper. Something breaking.
Isla
with
“If you remember this bracelet so clearly, then how did you never notice that Arabella never wore it? Not once since you stand
sight. Because she didn’t even know it existed. Because she’s not —”
Her words never made it out.
Regis stepped forward and slapped her so hard her vision went black.
She stumbled backward, crashing straight into the champagne tower behind her.
your
Hundreds of glasses shattered as they collapsed over her, soaking her in cold, sticky wine. Glass sliced her arms and legs as she hit the ground hard, bruised and bleeding.
Viviana stalked toward her, expression stone–cold. Without a word, she dumped an entire glass of red wine over Isla’s face.
“That bracelet? It was out for repairs. The housekeeper just picked it up this morning.” Her voice was sharp, dripping with contempt. “So tell me, Isla–did you break into our home and help yourself to something that never belonged to you?”
“You’ve always been a mess, but today? Today you crossed a line. Pulling a stunt like this in front of our guests–on Arabella’s birthday?” She gave a cold laugh. “I don’t know if it’s desperation or delusion, but congratulations. You’ve officially embarrassed this family beyond repair.”
Her eyes scanned the stunned crowd. “That bracelet was passed down from your grandmother. It’s not just expensive–it’s heirloom. And it was meant for her. Always her. Never you.”
Regis jumped in, voice full of rehearsed outrage. “Viviana’s right. It’s a disgrace. Rhett, she stole from this family. She made a scene. Chapter 6
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There’s only one answer.”
His words landed fast and hard–and Rhett didn’t even question them.
Instead, he turned his full attention back to Arabella, who was gasping through tears in his arms like her heart was breaking. He wiped her cheeks gently, whispering something soft, something only she could hear.
Then, without warning, he stood and walked over to Isla -still crumpled on the floor, soaked and bleeding.
He crouched beside her, grabbed her injured wrist, and carefully unlatched the bracelet.
it
had always
With a cloth from his pocket, he wiped away the blood, then turned and fastened it around Arabella’s wrist–like belonged there.
He looked at her with something close to reverence.
“This bracelet,” he said, “was a gift from your grandmother. It holds her love, and five years of memes between
I won’t let
anyone tarnish that.”
Then his gaze shifted to Regis, his tone dropping like ice.
“She stole from this house. Lied to our faces. Staged a scene to ruin Arabella’s birthday. Tell me, Regis–doesn’t Grayscale have rules for this kind of disgrace?”
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Regis nodded eagerly, like he’d just been handed permission to perform.
“Of course we do. Theft, deception, public disorder–this falls squarely under house law.”
He signaled the guards and held out his hand. A whip was placed in his grip like it belonged there.
“In accordance with Grayscale tradition,” he said, loud enough for the entire hall to hear, “Isla will receive fifty lashes for her actions. I failed as a father. And tonight, I’ll make it right.”
Before anyone could speak, he grabbed the ceremonial whip himself.
With a sickening crack, the first strike landed across Isla’s back.
She screamed.
The crowd froze.
Again. And again. The whip tore through fabric and flesh. Her body shook violently, blood blooming across her shirt and pooling beneath her.
Her cries turned into broken gasps. Her vision blurred. Her lips moved, barely able to form words.
“I didn’t steal it,” she whispered. “That bracelet… it was mine. She–Grandma–gave it to me…”
But Rhett didn’t hear her. Or maybe he did–and didn’t care.
Instead, he shielded Arabella from the sight, pressing her face into his chest as he led her away.
Isla’s vision swam as their silhouettes receded–side by side, step by step, further and further away. She bit down on her trembling lip, hard enough to draw blood.
This time, she made no sound.
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.