Emily
I could feel the spotlight long before we stepped into it.
Camera flashes popped like lightning across the entrance carpet as Logan offered his arm. I took it, deliberately, curling, my fingers around his wrist the way I’d practiced.
We were here to show unity. Strength. Stability. All the things that photographs could suggest but real life rarely held still long enough to confirm.
The gala was opulent in the way only old money could be. Crystal chandeliers, mirrored walls, a four–string quartet tucked into the corner playing a classical music designed to sound both forgettable and expensive.
Servers wove between nobles with trays of wine and delicate hors d’oeuvres, all of which looked like they’d taste like the five thousand dollar a plate trays we’d be sitting down to.
Logan moved through the crowd, and I stayed close, offering polite smiles, shaking hands, accepting compliments that were really questions in disguise.
How lovely you look tonight, how is Titanfang treating you? Such a unique pairing, don’t you think? The words dripped with honey, but their eyes were sharp, searching for fractures.
Theld my ground. Until Chloe arrived.
She swept in like it was her engagement party all over again. The dress was perfect, understated in a way that begged to be noticed. Her hair was styled in soft waves, her expression open and charming, her movements effortless.
She played the room like an instrument. One beat after another. Laugh here. Touch there. She floated past Logan, then lingered just enough to be seen and then move on like it was nothing.
It was a performance. And I knew Chloe well enough to see it for what it was.
The first time she appeared at Logan’s side, I told myself it was coincidence. There were dozens of nobles in the room, plenty of paths crossing. But then it happened again. And again.
Each time she chose to linger while I was turned to speak to someone else. Each time with just enough distance to deny what was clearly Chloe’s intention: to get close to Logan and win him over.
Three hours in, I turned just in time to see her lean in toward Logan, fingers grazing his arm, mouth tilted in an inside joke I would never be part of.
And Logan–he stepped back. But not fast enough.
The photographer near the wall raised his camera just as it happened. One shot. One frozen moment.
Chloe’s hand on his sleeve. Logan standing still. The press wouldn’t miss it. And even if they didn’t use it, I would still see it every time I blinked.
My grip on my champagne flute tightened.
I wasn’t going to make a scene. That would be exactly what Chloe wanted. So, I smiled, turned away from the dance floor, and walked the long loop toward the exit as if I had somewhere else to be.
I didn’t. Not really.
A server offered me a fresh glass of something sparkling. I shook my head and kept walking.
And Logan didn’t follow.
I told myself it was because he hadn’t seen me leave. That he was occupied. It didn’t mean anything.
1/2
Chapter 66
And maybe it didn’t. But I felt something shift in my chest anyway tight and cold and heavy.
+25 BONUS
Outside, the night air was mercifully quiet. The wind carried the scent of pine and summer and a hint of perfume that wasn’t mine. I exhaled slowly, letting it leave me
I didn’t know what I was feeling. Whatever had passed between Loan and me in the quiet moments didn’t grant me ownership of anything.
Jealousy wasn’t supposed to have space in a contract. Neither was hurt. But both sat beside me in the car on the ride home, silent and uninvited.
I slipped out of the car the moment the driver opened the door and headed straight for my room. My shoes clicked faintly on the polished floors, echoing a little too sharply.
