Chapter 9 Kyle stared at the scar on Ruby's wrist, the one she'd once claimed had been caused by her violent family members, and scoffed. "People like you are too filthy even for hell." Ruby's eyes went wide. She spun away and vanished into the crowd. Three days later, a yacht explosion from a Southeast Alvarician country was reported. A passport recovered from the wreckage belonged to Ruby. The rainy season hit Nautilum without warning. I hurried into the studio with an armful of sketches. And there was Samuel, standing in the doorway with an umbrella still up. "Running a little late, Ms. Stockwell?" He smiled as he shook the rainwater from the umbrella. His gold-rimmed glasses were fogged over from the cold. Suddenly, a rough voice cut through the rain. "Holly..." Kyle stood at the corner, soaked through, his expensive suit wrinkled and ruined. He gripped a faded velvet box, his knuckles white. "I came to keep my promise.' His hands trembled as he flipped it open. The diamond ring looked dull in the rain. "You said-" "Your memory's really lousy, Mr. Grayson." I gave a quiet laugh and ran a finger over the ring. "You crushed that promise the 27th time you went to Ruby. You think showing up with a crummy ring makes it right?" Samuel stepped forward and slipped an arm around my shoulders. "You ruined six years of her life. Now you want to destroy the last shred of her dignity too?" Kyle lurched back, his hand still outstretched for me. "Please, give me one more chance. I don't want anything else. Just you-" "You lost everything a long time ago." I cut him off calmly. "Even my late mother wouldn't so much as stir at your show of remorse, Kyle." Samuel drew a feather brooch from his pocket, the silver catching a cold gleam in the rain. "Mr. Grayson, do you recognize this?" Kyle's eyes went wide. The brooch matched the design from the sketches he'd once ripped to shreds. Samuel pinned it to my collar. "You tore up her design, but she grew new wings.' 1/2 When what little decency he had left finally slipped, Kyle let out a wild laugh. He jabbed a finger at Samuel, "Enough! You think you've won? She's still the Holly who'd make me instant mac and cheese! You only picked up what I left behind-" I slapped him, making his head snap to the side. I flexed my stinging hand, my eyes finally blazing with fury. "That's for insulting my mother's dying wish." I whipped a backhand across his check. "And that's for trampling on six years of my love beneath your heel." I'd just raised my hand for a third strike when Samuel caught my wrist. "Don't dirty your hand." Without looking back, he ordered, "Throw him out." Two bodyguards moved in, seized Kyle, and dragged him away. Samuel wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his touch warm and steady. I glanced back one last time at the figure huddled in the rain. "You're rotten to the core, Kyle." Three months later, under the flashes of reporters' cameras, the "Caged Bird" series left the audience stunned. The broken wings had been remade into a gilded cloak. At the curtain call, countless white doves burst into the air behind me. Meanwhile, in his dingy rental, Kyle stared at a mold-flecked TV screen, empty bottles piled at his feet. When he saw Samuel slip an engagement ring onto my finger onscreen, he smashed a bottle. The shards dug deep into his palm. "Congratulations..." He raised half a bottle of bottom-shelf vodka in the air. Blood mixed through the liquor and spattered onto Ruby's death certificate. "We both had it coming."