Chapter 3

Kaitlyn Barton POV:

"Kaitlyn!" Bettie exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine surprise and relief. She had been right to call me back. A few other friends echoed her sentiment, their faces lighting up with a mixture of welcome and eager anticipation. I nodded, a small, tight smile on my face, acknowledging their greetings. My gaze swept across the room, past the familiar faces, and landed directly on Kacy Munoz.

She sat in the center of the plush, U-shaped sofa, surrounded by people, a picture of demure fragility. She looked young, perhaps in her early twenties, with delicate features and wide, innocent eyes. She was certainly not a "copy" of me. There was no physical resemblance, no shared style. The rumors of Edwin seeking a physical stand-in for me were clearly false. He had found something else entirely.

My eyes narrowed imperceptibly. She sat in my spot. The central position, directly across from the large fireplace, was the seat I always occupied in this lounge. This entire hotel, including this private lounge, was part of the Barton family legacy. I owned a significant share. This wasn't just a seat; it was my seat, a symbolic claim of belonging and authority. Kacy, perched there, half-leaning into Edwin, who sat beside her, looked entirely too comfortable, too possessive. Her posture, a subtle clinginess, spoke volumes about their relationship, and Edwin's indulgent air confirmed it.

I stood by the door, unmoving, my gaze fixed on her. The air in the room grew thick with unspoken tension. Some of the more observant guests exchanged nervous glances, subtly nudging Edwin, trying to signal the inappropriateness of the situation. Edwin, however, seemed oblivious, or perhaps unwilling to acknowledge the obvious social faux pas. He noticed my unwavering stare, a slight frown creasing his brow. He instinctively shifted, subtly wrapping an arm around Kacy, pulling her closer, a clear gesture of protection.

"Kaitlyn," Edwin said, his voice softer than when he'd warned me earlier, but still carrying a defensive edge. "Kacy just naturally gravitated to that spot. There's no need to make a fuss about a chair." He sounded dismissive, as if my concern over a seat was petty, inconsequential. My blood simmered.

I cut him off, my voice sharp and clear, echoing through the now silent room. "A fuss about a chair, Edwin? Or a fuss about respect?" I asked, my voice laced with steel. "Perhaps you should have informed your guest about the customs of this place, or at least, who actually owns it." My words were a direct challenge, not just to Kacy, but to Edwin's blatant disrespect. "I expect an apology, Edwin. From both of you."

The entire lounge fell into an immediate, suffocating silence. You could hear a pin drop. Edwin's eyes, which had held a flicker of defensiveness, now hardened. His gaze became icy, devoid of any warmth. He no longer looked at me with even a hint of our shared past, only cold disdain.

"Kaitlyn, don't make a scene," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "This is not the time or place." His words hit me like a physical blow. Don't make a scene?

I remembered a time, years ago, when a jealous rival had spread nasty rumors about me in college. Edwin had stood up for me, a fierce protector, his voice booming across the cafeteria, silencing the gossip. "Don't you dare speak of Kaitlyn like that! You know nothing about her, and you have no right to question her character!" he had declared, his eyes blazing with protective fury. I had thought then, This man will always have my back. He will always defend me. I had believed he would be my unwavering guardian, my champion against any injustice.

Now, the roles were completely reversed. He was the one accusing me, silencing me, just as those college rivals had tried to do. His words, his protective stance over Kacy, felt exactly like the betrayal of that old rival, only infinitely more painful. He was doing to me what he had once sworn to protect me from.

I met his cold gaze head-on, refusing to back down. My voice was steady, unwavering. "Tell me, Edwin, what would you consider a 'scene'?" The silence stretched, even more suffocating than before.

Then, Kacy, perched delicately beside Edwin, broke the tension. Her voice was soft, tremulous, laced with feigned distress. "Oh, no, Edwin, please don't be angry with Kaitlyn." She spoke my name with a saccharine sweetness that grated on my nerves. "It's all my fault. I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Kaitlyn. I'll just go. I wouldn't want to ruin your party any further." She pushed herself up from the sofa, her movements deliberately clumsy, already playing her part.