CRYSTAL BURGESS POV:

I watched their retreating backs, the last vestiges of my old life walking away. They were gone. Truly gone this time.

I picked up my small, worn bag, the few belongings I had chosen to keep feeling impossibly light.

My father was already waiting by the car, his imposing figure silhouetted against the pre-dawn sky. His eyes were red-rimmed, glistening with unshed tears.

He pulled a thick fur cloak from the back seat, draping it carefully over my shoulders. Its warmth was a stark contrast to the cold emptiness inside me. He then pressed a heavy, bulging pouch into my hands. "Be safe, my dear," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Take care of yourself."

I climbed into the car, taking one last look at the cluster of lights that was our city, my former home. My eyes, once bright with childish dreams, now held only a fierce, cold resolve.

"I will, Dad," I promised, the words mechanical. "I will."

Miles away, at the edge of the city, Jorden suddenly stopped. "Something feels off," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, his eyes narrowed in thought. He looked deeply troubled. "Crystal… she didn't seem right. Not herself."

Connor said nothing, but his eye twitched, a nervous tic. He remembered my cold apartment, the scattered mess. He remembered my listless eyes, my pale face. A wave of regret, cold and sharp, washed over him. He found himself wishing, for the first time, that he hadn't agreed to this.

The silence hung heavy in the air.

Garrick, ever the rational one, broke it. "Perhaps we've pushed her too far."

Jorden kicked a nearby tree, the sound echoing in the stillness. He whirled around, his voice raw with anger. "Don't you dare! We worked this plan out together! I had to be the villain, the one who said all those awful things to her!" He paced back and forth, then stopped abruptly, staring at his hands. The hands that had gripped my throat, had lashed out with words meant to wound. His voice trembled. "What if she hates me forever? What if she never forgives me?"

His words were a jolt. A shared shudder ran through the three men. Suddenly, the carefully constructed plan, the noble intention to teach me a lesson, felt twisted and cruel. They had wanted to break me, then put me back together. Now, they just felt like monsters.

Jorden' s eyes widened in horror. "What if... what if she actually gets chosen for the arranged marriage? What if she ends up with the Mcintoshes?" He grabbed Connor's arm, his grip desperate. "We have to go back! Now!"

Connor held him back, his face pale. "No, Jorden. Her father would never allow that. He would never let her go to that place." His words were meant to be reassuring, but there was an unsettling tremor in his own voice. His eyes, usually so steady, were rimmed with red.

Jorden ripped his arm free. His face was dark with fury, but his voice was tight with anguish. "I'm done with this charade. We're going back. This ends now." He looked at Garrick and Connor, his gaze hardening. "No more games. No more acting. This plan is over."

Garrick and Connor exchanged a look. A silent agreement passed between them. The game was indeed over.

JORDEN MANN POV:

The tension eased, a fraction. Garrick, ever the leader, spoke, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Remember your part, Jorden."

I stiffened, my face a mask of annoyance. "I remember," I grumbled, the words forced. It was a stupid, brutal part.

The plan was simple, or so they thought. We, Crystal's three partners, would pretend to leave her for Andrea Harmon. We' d make Crystal feel the sting of abandonment, the harsh reality of independence, so she would learn to appreciate us, to be less demanding, more resilient. We would make her realize she needed us.

Andrea, a shrewd businesswoman, had agreed to play along. Her price? We would take turns "testing" her experimental medicines. Andrea was a genius, far beyond what any of us in the city understood. She'd studied ancient remedies, combined them with modern pharmacology, and was on the verge of a breakthrough in treating the devastating fevers that plagued our children. She needed reliable, male volunteers to test her potent, sometimes dangerous, formulas. We were her perfect test subjects.

We thought we were so clever, so strategic. We believed we were doing it for Crystal' s own good, to make her the "perfect" woman we envisioned.

Andrea had watched us, her eyes thoughtful, a slight frown marring her calm features. "You know," she' d said, her voice quiet, "what you' re doing to Crystal… it could break her. This isn' t just about teaching her a lesson. For her, it will be the deepest betrayal, the three men she trusts most, pushing her off a cliff." She paused, her gaze unwavering. "I don' t care about playing a part in your drama. But are you truly prepared for the consequences? For the potential damage you might inflict?"

We, in our arrogance, hadn't really listened. We dismissed her concerns, convinced we knew best.

The consequences were about to hit us like a tidal wave.

The morning of the drawing. It was still dark, the sky a bruised purple, when I saw him. Connor. Squatted outside Crystal' s apartment door, his head buried in his knees.

I walked closer, my heart sinking. His hair, his shoulders, were dusted with a thin layer of frost.

"Did you stay here all night?" I asked, my voice tight.

He didn't really answer, just jerked his chin towards the side. There, stacked neatly against Crystal' s wall, was a mountain of chopped firewood. Enough to last a whole winter.

Garrick arrived, his face creased with a frown. "Connor? What were you doing out here all night, chopping wood?"

Connor' s voice was hoarse, raspy. "Couldn' t sleep."

I looked at him, my expression complicated. There was a surge of anger, a flash of jealousy. "Trying to play the devoted partner now, are we?"

Connor' s gaze dropped. "I didn' t go in," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "Just… chopped some wood. She looked so cold yesterday."

Regret, bitter and sharp, spread through me. If only I had chopped enough wood before I left. If only I had made sure she was warm.

Garrick placed a hand on my shoulder, sighing. "Enough, Jorden. Right now, we need to find Crystal and explain everything."

We stood there, three grown men who had orchestrated an elaborate deception, now paralyzed by fear. Who would knock? Who would face her first? What if she was still angry? What if she cried again?

"Fine!" I exploded, shoving them aside. "I' ll do it." I took a deep breath, raising my hand. My knuckles rapped against the cold wood of her door. "Crystal? Are you awake?"