Chapter 4

“Get in the car.”

Calista stared at Ken, bewildered. “Why are you here?”

His brows furrowed in irritation. “You pushed Viola down yesterday and ruined her dress today. Don’t you think you owe her an apology?”

“I never pushed her, and I didn’t ruin any dress. Stop accusing me!” She turned to leave, but Ken caught her arm roughly. He froze when he noticed the bruises marking her delicate skin.

“What happened to your arm?”

Calista felt tears threatening to spill. “Don’t you already know?” she asked softly.

Discomfort flickered across Ken’s face before his expression hardened. “You’ve become quite manipulative,” he said coldly. “Would you really hurt yourself just to frame Viola?”

years, Ken, is that really

pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to soften his tone. “It’s just

away, but not before

waiting. He threw a

“What is this?”

party now,” he said icily. “Clean it, and I’ll

splattered with bright paint–clearly intentional, but not her

do this, and I won’t clean

completely lost your moral compass!” His fists clenched as disappointment flickered in his eyes. “If you don’t clean this dress,

by lightning. She stared at him,

was my mother’s…” Her voice

Ken instinctively reached out to wipe them away, but Calista flinched back. His hand hung

“Clean the dress, and you’ll get your luck charm back. This dress means

need to humiliate me

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