[Arella] He smirks, his gaze lingering on me far too long, making my skin crawl. Does he ever get tired of being creepy? “Come on now, I’m just being friendly. C’mon, hop in. I’ll drop you ladies off.” I feel the heat rising in my chest, the irritation boiling over. Friendly? More like persistent and unwanted. "You need to leave, Frank. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been following me around—stalking me. Let me warn you now, lay off, or you won’t like the consequences." He freezes, then lets out a dark chuckle, his eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and arrogance. “Stalk you? Deric was right, you’re just a delusional fool,” he says, rolling up his window with a finality that makes my blood boil. Right. Blame me for noticing your obvious lurking. Classic. Without another word, he drives off, leaving us standing there. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, the tension in my shoulders slowly easing. Turning to Ava, I notice her eyes, dark and intense, staring at
[Arella]Touching up the last bits of makeup, I smooth a hand over my dress, the sapphire color catching the warm glow of the overhead lights. The fabric hugs my frame, and its rich color compliments my skin perfectly. My hand pauses at my tummy. A life is growing inside me. Pregnant.I'm really pregnant, and this isn't some kind of dream.The thought settles over me like a heavy blanket—both comforting and suffocating. Feeling my eyes sting, I blink rapidly, forcing down that strange mixture of joy and sadness. I can’t afford to mess this up, not with Deric and Vivian waiting for any excuse to trample on me.The quietness of the back room is broken by the creak of the door. Through the mirror, I catch Sasha’s reflection as she steps in, the gentle sway of her identical sapphire dress mirroring mine. We’re the planners, after all."When were you going to tell me that you're dating Lincoln Sawyer?"I freeze, my heart thudding loudly, as if the truth were pounding to escape. Turning t
[Lincoln] "Right this way, Mr. Sawyer. I'm glad you could make it," Deric says, gesturing toward the grand entrance of the venue. The air inside is warm, heavy with the mingling scents of cologne, champagne, and freshly polished wood. I nod and step in, frustration simmering beneath the surface. I wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for Mr. Thompson agreeing to meet on ‘fair grounds.’ Not exactly sure what that means, but here I am. "Hi, I’m Vivian, Deric’s girlfriend," a woman in a short black dress says, extending her hand with a practiced innocent looking smile. So, she’s the one Deric abandoned Arella for. Her eyes are too wide, her smile too bright and calculating. Her mask doesn’t fool me—I can see it all, every crack beneath her polished “pure” exterior, makes me wonder how full of a man Deric actually is to fall for this act. "Yes, she’s my loving girlfriend," Deric adds quickly when I don’t take her hand, his voice faltering just slightly. "You left Arella f
[Arella]Every thought evaporates from my mind as I take his hand. Lincoln leads me to the dance floor, the smooth, soft music wrapping around us like a velvet ribbon. The scent of fresh flowers and expensive cologne lingers in the air.Chandeliers above cast a golden glow over everything, but it all fades into the background as he looks at me."You’ve been avoiding me, Arella," he says, his voice low and probing. The words send a shiver down my spine. I feel myself freeze, the warmth of his hand on mine holding me in place."N-no, it’s not like that," I stammer, my voice barely audible over the hum of the music. "I’ve just been… busy.""If that’s the case, then why aren’t you looking at me?"His words pierce through me. My eyes snap to his, and the way he looks at me—it’s just so… intense, so searching, like he’s seeing every secret I’ve tried to hide. My breath catches. The soft light gleams off his sharp jawline, and his presence feels like a cocoon, shutting out everything else
[Arella]The stain is horrendous—huge, red, and blotchy. Knowing how Vivian is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d mixed red paint together with the wine. It’s a ridiculous thought, I know, but it’s Vivian after all.I can’t go out in this anymore.Searching around for the sundress I wore before changing into this, I don’t find it. Frustration prickles at my skin as I grab my phone and dial Sasha, hoping she’ll come help.Before the call connects, the door swings open suddenly, and I’m startled.My blood freezes.It’s Frank."What are you doing here?" I demand, my voice trembling despite my attempt to sound firm.Frank smirks, his eyes hazy, and the stench of alcohol hits me like a wave. He’s drunk."I told you to watch your back," he slurs, stepping closer.My heart begins thumping loudly, a heavy drumbeat that drowns out everything else. I back away instinctively. "What are you trying to do? Don’t come closer, or I’ll scream!"He giggles—a high-pitched, unnerving sound, like a child
10 Minutes Earlier[Lincoln]I watch Arella walk away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. My jaw tightens as I turn my cold gaze back to Deric and Vivian, glaring particularly at her. She’d be stupid if she thinks we believed her excuse about the spill not being on purpose.Deric clears his throat, his expression carefully neutral, and gives me a smile. "Mr. Sawyer, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the big oil merge coming up. You see, the last time we spoke abou—""Sir," Janet’s voice interrupts from beside me, cutting Deric off. Her tone is crisp, urgent. "Mr. Thompson is already here. I didn’t want to interrupt your dance, but he is getting crankier by the second."I stiffen, my frustration barely contained. The reminder of why I even attended this pointless gala claws at my mind. Business obligations always come first."Where is he now?""In one of the lounges, sir."I follow her lead, my steps brisk, past the clinking glasses and murmured conversations. We enter a q
[Arella]Lincoln lets me back down gently, and I can feel his anger bubbling as he stalks toward Deric, who's yelling at the top of his voice."Can someone tell me what's Omph!—"His words are cut short as Lincoln grips his collar tightly.""You! This is on you!" Lincoln's voice thunders, his fury palpable. "Is this how you organize a gala? Allowing any random degenerate to slip in unnoticed? Look at that drunkard over there!" He points sharply toward Frank, his tone seething with disdain. "He tried to assault Arella!"Gasps echo around us, and I realize they’re from Vivian, Kaitlin, and a few others from the party. Something feels off about they way they all piled in at once—very off—but I’m too stunned to speak, too scared to say anything. My hand instinctively goes to my stomach. Did I lose my baby? The thought creeps in, and my heart twists painfully. Surely that would be too much of a stretch… right?"That’s not a drunkard! He’s my friend!" Deric’s eyes turn to me, blazing with
[Arella] The steady beeping sound of a machine slowly lures me awake. My head feels heavy, like it’s stuffed with cotton. Where am I? My eyes flutter open to find walls that are sterile and white. The smell of antiseptic fills my nose as a lady in a white coat looms above me. “Good, you’re awake. How do you feel now, ma’am?” she asks, helping me sit up slowly. I blink, my mind clearing. Last night comes rushing back. I must have fainted. “I feel okay. Just a little groggy.” She nods and continues her checks. I wonder where Lincoln is, he probably left already. That thought makes me sad and I don't know why. “Do you know where the man—” “You mean your husband, right?” the doctor interrupts with a wide grin. “He just stepped out a few minutes ago. He watched you all night, you know. Such a loving man.” My ears perk up. My husband? Is she talking about Lincoln? He watched me all night? I feel my cheeks heat up, a pink flush spreading across my face. But thoughts of
[Deric]This is fucking crazy. No—this is batshit insane.What the hell am I doing? If we get caught, Harold Walcott will make sure neither of us walks out of this alive. The only sliver of comfort I have is that security seems to be lax. No guards in sight. No cameras that I can see. If we pull this off, I can grab Arella, get her out of here, and we’ll start over—somewhere far, somewhere safe.But the empty hallways around me don’t feel empty. They feel like they’re watching. The dim lighting flickers slightly, the walls are too still, the air is too damn thick—like the entire house knows what we’re about to do and is waiting to expose us.I'm so lost in my thoughts, drowning in the weight of what I’m about to do, that I don’t realize when I collide with someone. Hard. My body jerks, and a startled squeak escapes my lips before I can stop it.Shit.Panic claws at my throat, making it impossible to breathe. My stomach drops, twisting into something violent and gut-wrenching."Are you
[Vivian]“Fuck, this is taking forever.”Deric is restless beside me, his jaw tight, hands clenching and unclenching like he’s trying not to lose his shit. "When is Arella coming up?!" His voice is sharp, low, impatient.We’re tucked into a small corner upstairs, near the bathroom, hidden just enough to watch without being noticed. Well, he's watching. I'm not.I can’t stop looking at him. The way his beautiful brown hair is a total mess, disheveled and wild, nothing like the usual sleek, controlled way he keeps it. Stress has taken its toll on him, and somehow, it makes him look even better. His side is pressed against mine, the heat of his body sinking into me like a slow burn, and for a moment, I let myself remember.I want it back. The way things were before. The way he used to look at me, used to touch me, used to—"I can’t wait for everything to go back the way it was between us."The words slip out. I don’t even realize I said them out loud until Deric snaps his head toward me.
[Lincoln]How did she know?My chest tightens, a slow, suffocating coil of tension wrapping around my ribs as I try to comprehend how Arella knows about the secret my father has been trying to keep from me for years.It makes no sense.Before I can even fully register her last statement, the sharp shatter of glass pierces the ballroom.Mr. Thompson’s champagne flute crashes to the ground, splintering into a thousand jagged pieces."You have got to be kidding me!" he bellows.Fuck.Everything’s ruined.He strides forward, his eyes blazing with venomous intent, and then—he points a rigid, accusing finger straight at Arella."You!"A guttural sound, low and primal, rumbles from my throat before I even realize it. Instinct. Possession. Protection.Before Thompson can get any closer, I grab Arella’s wrist, pulling her behind me, my stance rigid, muscles coiled, ready for whatever the hell comes next."Watch it, Thompson," I growl, my voice dipping into something dangerous, something that w
[Arella]I don’t even bother sparing Lisa or Mr. Thompson another glance. They don’t deserve it.We move on with our conversations, ignoring them so thoroughly it must sting. But they still try to wedge their way in, their voices lingering like an unwanted aftertaste.Utterly pathetic. But something feels off. My gaze flickers across the room. Where the hell is Vivian?She’s nowhere in sight, and that sends a cold, uneasy ripple through my spine. She’s not the type to disappear quietly.Whatever.Eventually, we’re all guided back into the grand ballroom for gift presentations.This room screams old money—the crystal chandeliers dripping gold, the marble floors reflecting the warm glow of candlelight, the air thick with the scent of vintage cologne and wealth. A true battleground where status is the only weapon that matters.Lincoln leans in as we walk. His voice brushes against my ear, low and teasing.“So, a surprise, huh?”I smirk, locking eyes with him as I make an exaggerated mot
[Arella]The dining hall glows with warmth, a golden ambiance settling over the long, elegantly set table. Laughter hums through the air, weaving into the clinking of glasses and the soft murmur of conversation.For a moment, just a fleeting moment, everything feels perfect.Lincoln’s family joins seamlessly, blending into the flow of my own—like they were always meant to be here. No tension. No awkward pauses. Just good food, good company, and an almost surreal sense of ease.It should put me at peace.It does actually.But then, as the wine flows and lighthearted discussions turn toward the Big Merge, something shifts.“Arella,” Grandpa chuckles, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, “we keep hearing about this ‘surprise’ of yours. Should we be worried?”I smirk, resting my chin on my palm as I glance at Lincoln. He’s stiff.Oh?The way his fingers tighten slightly around his fork doesn’t go unnoticed. The subtle shift in his expression—cool, composed, but definitely guarded—has m
[Deric]Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I frown at the waiter's outfit clinging to my frame. The stiff white shirt feels like a straitjacket, the black vest squeezing my ribs like it's mocking me. The whole thing smells like starch and cheap detergent.Ames’ finances wasn't enough to get me an invitation. Or maybe no one actually wanted me here. Not even as a footnote in this perfect, glittering night.Well, too bad for them.I adjust the fake mustache and beard, scrutinizing my reflection under the dim, flickering restroom light. I look unrecognizable, just another faceless server blending into the background noise. Exactly the way I need to be.I force my shoulders back, inhale sharply, and step out.The hallways are buzzing with champagne-drenched laughter, women in shimmering gowns clinging to men with expensive watches and empty smiles. Golden chandeliers throw soft light over the polished floors, the air thick with the scent of jubilation, wine, and wealth.I move with p
[Arella]Ryder drags me along deeper into another section of the ballroom, where my family members are waiting. The chandeliers above cast a golden glow, making everything look grand and elegant, but all I can think about is the familiar warmth ahead.Family members... It’s a strange, comforting thought. A real, solid kind of warmth that wraps around me like a favorite childhood blanket. And suddenly, I wish Ava was with me. She’d love this—being surrounded by all these people who actually feel like home.“Hey, don’t rush a pregnant woman like this!” I snap playfully at Ryder, shooting him a glare as I struggle to keep up in my heels. My feet are killing me, my back aches, and this man is dragging me around like I’m luggage.Ryder rolls his eyes like the dramatic little gremlin he is. “Oh, please, you’re only, like, what, two, three months gone?”I scoff, flipping my hair for dramatic effect. “I’m seven months gone, Ry.”Ryder stops so suddenly that I nearly slam into him, my stomach
[Lincoln]We both turn to the source of the voice, and my brows furrow at the sight of the people before us: Mr. Thompson and Deric’s girlfriend—or should I say ex—smiling at both of us. I feel Arella stiffen beside me, her body tense like a coiled spring.“What are you doing here?” I bite out, my eyes glaring at Mr. Thompson.He gives me a sly smile, the kind that sets my teeth on edge, and for a split second, my mind flashes to the conversation with him on my last business trip. That conversation. The one where things got… personal. Just here to wish Mr. Harold a happy birthday, boy. Just like you are.I feel my blood simmer.“You’re not welcome here. Security!” Arella bites out, her voice sharp, her eyes gleaming with malice as they flicker over to Vivian, who’s wearing the smug look of someone who’s been handed all the right cards in life.“I'm sure you wouldn’t want to cause a scene now, would you?” Mr. Thompson’s smirk deepens, a slow, calculated move, like he’s enjoying this ga
[Arella]Lincoln gets down first, his movements smooth and effortless, like he’s done this a million times before. The cool night air brushes against my skin as he rounds the car, the faint scent of cologne and leather lingering in the air. His hand extends toward me, strong and steady, and I take it without hesitation. The moment I step out, a burst of bright flashes erupts from all directions, the chaotic clicking of cameras blending into a deafening hum.I blink rapidly, my lips curving into a polite yet composed smile, keeping my posture graceful despite the overwhelming attention. My heart thrums, not with fear, but with a strange, thrilling anticipation. This is what being a Sawyer means.As my neck subtly turns, another car rolls up, its sleek exterior gleaming under the grand entrance lights. My heart warms slightly when I realize who it is. Ava, and my mother-in-law. And apparently, the entire family.Pleasantries are exchanged, the usual polite words masking the deeper, uns