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805words2026-01-27 09:12

I had just flown back to the country, after finishing my design degree abroad.
The moment I landed, I received a message, my grandfather arranged a marriage for me since birth.
He promptly dragged me to the Thorpe estate, to finalize the engagement.

I got bored listening to the old men drone on, so I slipped out to wander through the family's sprawling gardens.
Suddenly, a woman stormed up to me and slapped me hard across the face.
"Who the hell are you, you little tramp? How dare you steal my things!"
I cupped my stinging cheek, staring at her in shock.
She tilted her head back, her voice dripping with the kind of arrogance that sounded like charity.
"That ruby on your finger? That was a birthday gift from Mr. Thorpe himself! Can a little charity case like you even afford to wear something like that?"

My mouth fell open. I was about to tell her it was mine when she slapped me again, even harder this time.
"Do you have any idea who I am? I am the future Mrs. Thorpe! This entire estate will be mine one day!"
I pulled out my phone, and right in front of her, I sent a message to the contact saved as "Fiancé."
"Maxwell Thorpe, there's a rabid dog in your garden. Are you going to handle it, or should I?"

To my surprise, the message was immediately followed by a red exclamation mark.
I almost laughed. The engagement wasn't even official, and he'd already blocked me.
"Where did you sneak in from? Give Miss Whitmore back her property this instant!"
An older maid rushed toward me, but I sidestepped her easily.
"I am an honored guest of the Thorpe family," I said, my voice cold. "Is this how you treat your guests?"
Cassandra Whitmore scoffed and pulled out her own phone, dialing the man who was supposed to be my fiancé.
A deep, smooth voice answered on the first ring.
"What is it, Cassie?"
Not bad, I thought. He has a nice voice. Grandfather has good taste, at least in that.
"Maxwell, darling! There's some wretched girl who snuck into your house claiming to be a guest, and she stole the ring you gave me!"
I cut through her sickeningly sweet tone before he could get the wrong idea. "Mr. Thorpe, my name is Eleanor Crawford. I'm your fiancée."
He paused for a beat, as if trying to place the name.
When he spoke again, his voice was laced with ice. "What fiancée? No one enters the Thorpe estate without an invitation.
Otherwise, you'll be dealt with as a trespasser."
Then, his tone melted back to honey. "Cassie, don't be upset. It's just a ring. I'll buy you a new one when I get back."
This pigeon's blood ruby was my parents' engagement ring. There wasn't another one like it in the entire world.
As I was seriously reconsidering the wisdom of this alliance, Cassandra was bent over laughing, her eyes raking over me with contempt.
"You? Look at you! Your clothes don't even have a brand name! And you have the nerve to call yourself Maxwell's fiancée? That's hilarious!"
I had been studying fashion design abroad. The clothes I was wearing were my own creations, of course they didn't have a label. My designs were already sought after by socialites across Europe, but this woman didn't recognize them.
It made me question her credentials.
Her little scene had ruined my mood. I turned to leave.
Cassandra blocked my path. "Didn't you hear Maxwell? You need an invitation to be here! You claim to be a guest? Where is it?"
I rolled my eyes and dug into my pockets, but came up empty. I suddenly remembered my grandfather saying we wouldn't need one.
She saw my hesitation, and her smirk widened.
"I knew it! You're a liar! Guards! Get the ring off her finger, tie her up, and throw her out!"
I shielded the ring with one hand and took a step back, my expression hardening.
Several household staff members approached me, one of them speaking with a hint of pity.
"Miss, you should just give the ring back to Miss Whitmore. If you don't, you won't even know what hit you."
"Yeah, that ring is a symbol of their love. Mr. Thorpe and Miss Whitmore grew up together. He won't spare you when he finds out."
"I saw it with my own eyes. A guy once spilled a drink on Miss Whitmore's dress. The next day, his hand was just... gone."
The staff's warnings only fueled Cassandra's sneer.
"Did you hear that? Now, get on your knees, place this ring respectfully in my hand, and then get the hell out of here. Otherwise, you'll end up just like the man who dirtied my dress."