The Mate He Forgot Chapter 21

The Mate He Forgot Chapter 21

Rhett had ruined Arabella. 

Now he wanted the whole Grayscale family to feel it, too. 

Because Isla no longer belonged to the Graysons, Rhett felt no obligation–not mercy, not restraint. He ordered his people to start quietly buying up Grayscale’s corporate shares while Regis and Viviana were still locked in Echelon’s cellar. At the 

same time, he he tanked their business deals, undercutting 

prices so aggressively that other packs started pulling out. 

Within days, other companies blacklisted Grayscale. 

Word spread. Their name became poison. 

Then Rhett sent the headlines straight to the dungeon. 

Regis collapsed the moment he read them. Viviana paced in 

circles, pulling at her hair. The company represented their 

life’s work–and it was crumbling. 

Arabella, however, cared about only one thing: her freedom. 

“Rhett, please let me out!” she sobbed when he finally 

appeared. “I’ve learned my lesson. I swear I won’t survive 

down here–there are rats, cockroaches, they crawl over my 

feet at night–please!” 

“Want out?” Rhett’s tone was lazy, almost bored. “Fine. One 

of you gets to walk free–just one. You or your parents. You 

choose.” 

Arabella didn’t hesitate. “Me! Let me go. They’re old–I’m still 

young!” 

“And the switchup with Isla? All your parents‘ idea, right?” he 

drawled. 

“Yes!” she blurted. “It was theirs! Even that bracelet–Isla’s 

bracelet–they said it was mine. I only did what they told 

me.” 

Rhett smirked–exactly what he’d expected. “You should 

know,” he said softly, “they’re listening.” 

Arabella turned. Regis and Viviana stood in the corner, eyes 

glossy with hurt. 

“Arabella,” Regis whispered, gutted. “After everything we did 

for you?” 

“No–Dad, it’s not what it sounds like! He’s twisting-” 

Rhett waved a hand. Guards hauled her away. He glanced at 

Regis and Viviana. 

“So. Still think she’s your perfect little daughter?” 

Regis and Viviana wilted under his stare. Rhett let them stew, 

then announced his terms: he’d release them, bankrupt and 

titleless–if they signed an oath severing all ties with 

Arabella. Reeling from their daughter’s betrayal, the Graysons 

agreed without blinking. 

By the time the dungeon door slammed shut behind them, 

Rhett’s revenge was complete: Grayscale Group had nothing, 

and Arabella had no one. 

“What about the girl?” a Beta asked. 

Rhett’s gaze hardened. “She’s going to feel every ounce of 

pain Isla ever felt.” 

So she did. 

A staged hitandrun shattered her leg. 

A tray of mango pastries–knowing her allergy–left her body 

inflamed with angry rashes. 

They dunked her in a tub of ice water until her lips turned 

blue, then hauled her out only to shove her off a twostory 

balcony into a tower of crystal flutes, glass splintering 

through her skin. 

Morning, noon, and night, the whip sang across her back. 

Days bled together. Arabella’s screams faded to whispers, 

then to silence. When the pack doctor confirmed she’d 

slipped into psychosis, Rhett delivered her to a private 

asylum with one order: 

Keep her breathing. Nothing more. 

The director nodded. Message received.