Choosing Austin's True Love

I felt Austin's presence behind me, his warmth a stark contrast to the cold morning air. My hands trembled as I clutched the parsley to my chest, unable to meet his gaze.

"Kenna, please," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You don't belong here."

Before I could respond, the garden door slammed open. Royce stood there, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the lawn. His eyes narrowed as they flicked between Austin and me.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded, his voice slicing through the peaceful morning air.

Austin straightened, his shoulders squaring as he stepped slightly in front of me. "Royce Wallace, I presume. I'm Austin Reed. Kenna's friend."

"Friend?" Royce spat the word like it tasted bitter. "She doesn't have friends. She has me."

I flinched at the possessive edge in his voice, my body automatically shrinking back. Three years of conditioning had taught me to expect the worst when that tone crept into his speech.

"Kenna," Royce called sharply, ignoring Austin completely. "Get rid of this nobody. Now."

I hesitated, my eyes darting between them. "Mr. Wallace, Austin was just—"

"Just what?" Royce cut me off, stalking forward until he towered over me. "Trying to convince you that you're worth something? That someone might actually want you?"

Austin's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

"Do you know what she was before I found her?" Royce continued, his voice rising as he addressed Austin directly for the first time. "A nobody. A pathetic little girl being passed around by her own stepfather. I saved her from that. I gave her a home, clothes, food." His lips curled into a cruel smile. "And this is how she repays me? By entertaining visitors in my garden?"

The parsley fell from my hands, scattering across the ground as Royce's words stripped away what little dignity I had left. Austin's face paled, his eyes filling with horror—not at what Royce was saying about me, but at the casual cruelty with which he said it.

"Kenna," Austin whispered, reaching for me. "This isn't right."

Royce grabbed my wrist, yanking me away from Austin's outstretched hand. "She belongs to me," he snarled. "Now get off my property before I have security throw you out."

That evening, I moved through the kitchen like a ghost, preparing dinner with mechanical precision. The stew simmered on the stove, filling the air with the rich aroma of beef and herbs. My hands were raw from chopping vegetables, but I barely noticed the pain.

The dining room door swung open, and Lilly glided in, her crimson dress replaced by a demure blue one that made her look angelic in comparison to my plain black uniform.

"Something smells delicious," she said, her voice honey-sweet as she peered into the pot. "Beef stew?"

"Yes, Miss Graham," I replied, keeping my eyes downcast.

"Such a simple dish," she remarked, trailing her finger along the counter. "Almost... beneath the Wallace household, don't you think?"

I said nothing, focusing on stirring the pot.

"Oh well," she sighed dramatically. "Royce insists you cook despite my offers to bring in a proper chef."

As I turned to reach for the salt, I caught a glimpse of movement—Lilly's hand slipping something from her purse into the stew pot. Before I could react, she stepped back, her expression innocent once more.

"Dinner is served," I announced minutes later, carrying the steaming tureen into the dining room where Royce and Lilly waited.

Royce barely acknowledged me as I ladled the stew into their bowls. Lilly watched me with those calculating eyes, her lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

After a few spoonfuls, Lilly suddenly gasped, her face contorting in pain. She clutched at her throat, knocking over her water glass as she slumped forward.

"Royce," she choked out. "My... allergy... shellfish..."

Royce leapt to his feet, catching her as she collapsed. "What happened?" he demanded, looking frantically between Lilly and me.

"She's allergic to shellfish," he shouted at me. "What did you put in this?"

"Nothing," I stammered, genuine confusion washing over me. "Just beef and vegetables. I would never—"

"You tried to poison her!" Royce roared, his face contorted with rage as he cradled the now-unconscious Lilly in his arms. "Get out! Get out of my sight!"

I stood frozen, the wooden spoon still in my hand, as Royce gathered Lilly in his arms and rushed toward the door, shouting for his driver to take them to the hospital.

The spoon slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor as the realization hit me: I'd been set up.