The Miner's Daughter Takes Manhattan

Chapter 7

"Vincent!" Rosalie Simmons gasped, her face lighting up with excitement as she rushed toward him.

"I knew you wouldn't leave me!" She pouted, stomping her foot playfully. "How'd you find me here? If Evelyn sees us, this is gonna be so awkward..."

But Vincent Crawford walked right past her, dropping to one knee in front of me and presenting an extravagant bouquet of roses.

"Evelyn, I've come to deliver my proposal."

Rosalie's smile froze.

I couldn't help but let out a sharp, cold laugh.

"Vincent, have you lost your mind?"

"I've spent every day of this past month reflecting on my mistakes," he said, his hands shaking slightly as he held the flowers. "Evelyn, please... give me a chance to make things right."

"Your reflection is your business. Why should I forgive you?" I frowned, disgust written all over my face. "Take your pathetic flowers and get lost."

Rosalie staggered forward, tears brimming in her eyes as she grabbed his sleeve.

"Vincent, you told me you loved me—"

"Idiot!" Vincent snapped, roughly pushing her away. "It was just a fling! Did you actually think I'd marry you? The Crawford heir's wife can only be Evelyn!"

Rosalie stumbled back, her face draining of color.

"Vincent, who do you think you are?" I sneered. "Do you seriously think women exist just for your amusement?"

I turned to walk away, but a wave of nausea hit me. How had I ever been so foolish, wasting my past life on trash like him?

He lunged toward me, but the bodyguards I'd already stationed quickly restrained him.

"Evelyn!" he roared, pulling out a velvet box. "I repaired the dress you loved—just look at it!"

Inside the box, the once-beautiful gown was now a mess, stitched up with garish gold thread over its torn seams.

I looked at him coldly. "I told you—broken things should be thrown away."

"Vincent," I continued, "I'm Sebastian Pierce's fiancée now. Stay the hell away from me."

Without another word, I turned and walked off, leaving Rosalie to sob hysterically behind me.

The dowry Sebastian had sent filled the entire living room, and it took hours to sort through it all that night.

The next morning, the butler came in quietly.

"Those two caused quite a scene at the estate gates last night," he said, his voice low. "Young Master Crawford even got violent."

"At three in the morning, he came back and sat outside until dawn."

"Don't worry, Miss Hawthorne," the butler added. "Both Mr. Hawthorne and Mr. Pierce have their men on watch. Mr. Hawthorne's already instructed legal affairs to terminate all dealings with the Crawford family."

I gave a nonchalant hum as the video call on my phone lit up.

Sebastian's face appeared, adjusting his tie, his long fingers moving expertly.

"Finished counting the dowry?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I'll come over as soon as my meeting ends."

"There's just too much of it," I grumbled, resting my chin on a pillow. "My fingers are sore from counting."

He leaned closer to the screen, his eyes softening with warmth.

"Then I'll massage them for you all day."

My heart skipped a beat. My fingers traced the sharp lines of his face without thinking.

"Sebastian..." I whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Hurry up and come," I murmured, burying my flushed face in my arms. "I miss you."