Left at the Altar, I Married Bigger Chapter 2

Richard’s face tightened with irritation. “Hanna, I only make these bets with Rianne. Don’t butt in.”

I slowly raised my hand, the massive diamond on my ring finger catching the light. “I bet,” I said, my voice ringing with newfound strength, “that by the time we schedule our eleventh wedding, Thorne Industries will be bankrupt.”

The color drained from his face. He lunged forward and shoved me hard in the chest. “Hanna, what the hell is wrong with you? You’ve become so venomous. Just because I didn’t marry you today, you’re going to curse my family’s company?”

“Rianne was right,” he sneered. “You’re all beauty and no brains, just using that kidney to guilt-trip me.”

A wave of fury, hot and sharp, finally broke through my numbness. I stumbled back, catching myself on a table. “If you’re sleeping with her, Richard, then just marry her!” I shouted, my voice trembling. “You don’t have to keep staging these pathetic, humiliating games to torture me!”

Rianne’s face flushed a theatrical red. “Ms. West, how could you say something so disgusting?” she cried out. “Richard and I are just trying to foster a positive and fun work environment! Your vulgar accusations are completely uncalled for.”

She turned to me, her voice dripping with faux pity. “Look, if you’re that desperate to get married, I’ll be sure to let Richard win the next bet. Okay?”

She stepped closer, linking her arm through mine as if we were friends, and hissed into my ear, “Have you no shame, Hanna? Jilted ten times and you’re still here, barking like a pathetic stray. If I were you, I’d have crawled into a hole and died by now. Let me spell it out for you: Richard is sick of you. He wants me.”

She pulled back just as quickly, her expression one of innocent exasperation. “Richard, remember that bet you lost last time? The one where you promised to cut off Hanna’s hair to make a wig for Gigi? I didn’t even hold you to it. Why is she making such a scene now?”

Richard’s face softened into a look of dopey adoration. He pulled a pair of scissors from a nearby floral arrangement kit and handed them to her. “A bet’s a bet,” he said with a helpless shrug. “I can’t lose face in front of my staff.”

My blood ran cold. I stared at him in disbelief. I remembered him stroking my hair, his voice full of admiration. “Hanna, your hair is like black silk. Promise me you’ll always keep it long, for me.”

After the transplant, my health had deteriorated. My hair started falling out in clumps. Richard had brewed special herbal remedies for me every day to help it grow back strong.

And now, for Rianne’s dog, he was going to let her cut it off.

He placed the scissors in her hand, then looked at me as if explaining something to a child. “It’s just hair, Hanna. Poor Gigi lost all her fur after her last treatment. Dogs have pride too, you know. She’s so depressed she won’t even eat. Just let us make a little wig for her.”

Before I could even speak, Rianne grabbed a handful of my hair. A vicious light flashed in her eyes as she brought the scissors close to my scalp and, with a sharp, cold snip, severed a thick lock.

The tip of the blade scraped my skin, a stinging pain that shot through me. I tried to push her away, but in my weakened state, I was no match for her. Snip. Snip. Snip. She hacked away, leaving my hair a ragged mess.

She held up the shorn locks with a look of disgust. “Richard, you said her hair was beautiful. It feels like dried straw. Gigi wouldn’t be caught dead in this.”

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed my hair into the trash can.

Richard just patted her hand consolingly. “It’s okay. If you don’t like it, we’ll buy something better tomorrow.”

Gasping for breath, I stared at them. A primal rage I never knew I possessed surged through me. With the last of my strength, I lunged, snatching the scissors from her hand and plunging them into her chest.

The blood bloomed instantly, staining my hands.

Rianne gasped, clutching her chest as she staggered backward into Richard’s arms.

The ballroom erupted into chaos.

“She stabbed her! Oh my God, Hanna West just tried to kill someone!”

My body trembled uncontrollably, but my grip on the bloody scissors was firm. “Are you satisfied with this bet, Richard?” I asked, my voice a ragged whisper.