---- Chapter 3 Athena POV: | wrapped my bleeding finger in a napkin and numbly finished cleaning the mess. By the time | was done, Hardin and Carina were long gone. | had to take a taxi back to the mansion, the silence of the ride a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me. The next morning, Hardin acted as if nothing had happened. He informed me that the annual Morrison Dynamics Innovators Conference was that evening. "It's the biggest event of the year," he'd said, kissing my forehead. "| want you on my arm." He' d promised me this. He' d said it was where he would officially introduce me to his world. Another lie. | spent the day in a daze, letting his personal stylist dress me like a doll. When | arrived at the grand convention center, | saw Hardin waiting by the entrance, looking impatient. | rushed towards him, a fake, bright smile plastered on my face. Two bulky security guards stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Ma'am, your invitation?" one of them grunted. "| don't have one," | said, confused. "I'm with him." | pointed towards Hardin. ---- The guard glanced at Hardin, then back at me, a sneer twisting his lips. "Yeah, right. Do you know how many women try that line every year? Get lost before we make you." They were blocking Hardin' s view of me. He couldn't see what was happening. "Please," | begged, my voice rising in panic. "Just let me talk to him. Hardin!" One of the guards shoved me, hard. | stumbled backward, my ankle twisting, and fell to the pavement. A sharp pain shot up my leg, and my elbow scraped against the rough concrete. Tears of frustration and pain welled in my eyes. | fumbled for my phone to call him, but my hands were shaking too much. Suddenly, a bucket of grimy water cascaded over me. It was ice-cold and smelled of stale mop water and disinfectant. It soaked my hair, my dress, my skin, leaving me shivering and humiliated. A piece of soggy, gray lettuce was stuck to my cheek. The pain from my scraped elbow flared as the dirty water seeped into the raw wound. The well-dressed guests streaming past stared, whispering and pointing. Their murmurs were a chorus of judgment, their pitying looks like tiny daggers. My face burned with a shame so intense it was dizzying. | clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. My whole ---- body trembled with a mixture of rage and utter helplessness. Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the filth. Then, | saw him. Hardin was walking out, Carina clinging to his arm, laughing at something he'd said. "Hardin!" | cried out, my voice raw. He stopped. He saw me. One of the security guards rushed to his side. "Mr. Morrison, apologies for the disturbance. This woman was trying to crash the event, claiming she was with you. We were just handling it." He spoke with a fawning deference that made me sick. Hardin' s eyes swept over me. He took in my drenched hair, my ruined dress, the filth on my skin, the raw scrape on my elbow. There was no recognition. No concern. Nothing. His face was a blank, indifferent mask. "Get her out of here," he said, his voice flat and detached. Then he turned and walked away. My body went rigid. The world seemed to slow down, the sounds of the city fading into a dull roar. "Hardin," | whispered, my voice trembling, a desperate, final plea. He paused for a fraction of a second. But Carina, her face a mask of feigned concern, blocked his view of me, tugging on his arm. "Darling, we'll be late for the keynote," she urged, shooting a triumphant, venomous glance over her shoulder at ---- me. "You're right," Hardin replied, his voice muffled. He didn't look back. He just let her lead him inside. The last flicker of hope inside me died, leaving behind a cold, dark void. The guards grabbed me. One of them twisted my arm behind my back while the other yanked me to my feet by my hair. The pain was excruciating. They dragged me around the side of the building, into a dark, reeking alley. One of them pulled out a taser. The air crackled. "Please," | whimpered. "Don't." A jolt of pure, white-hot agony shot through me. My body convulsed, every muscle seizing at once. | collapsed to the ground, my limbs twitching uncontrollably. A scream tore from my throat. My arm, the one they' d twisted, was on fire. | tried to shield my injured wrist, but the guard kicked my hand away. The metal prongs of the taser pressed against my forearm, just above the delicate web of scars from my surgery. In the blinding haze of pain, | heard Hardin' s voice, a ghostly echo from a time that felt like another life. "I' Il protect this hand, Athena. |' II never let anything happen to it. | promise." Another jolt of electricity ripped through me, more intense this ---- time. The phantom promise shattered, and the pain in my heart was a dull, heavy ache that was somehow worse than the fire racing through my nerves. His promises. They were all just stones he'd used to build my prison. Each memory, once a source of comfort, now fell like a meteor, crashing into my heart and leaving a smoldering crater. My vision blurred. The guard's sneering face swam in and out of focus. His voice was a distant, distorted buzz. Darkness crept in at the edges of my sight, a welcome reprieve. The last thing | felt before | blacked out was the cold, unforgiving concrete against my cheek. Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! I'm the Female General!" by CrushReel, Adela Taylor, a noble family's daughter, disguises herself as her brother to secure their Duke title by joining the army. Despite facing obstacles, she achieves remarkable success. 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