Chapter 4

The news of my impending marriage to Leonardo Kingsley spread through our elite New York circle like wildfire. The reactions were a predictable mix of shock, pity, and thinly veiled contempt.

"Avelia Sterling, throwing herself away on a cripple?"

"All that money, and she chooses a man who can't even walk her down the aisle."

"Kingsley Tech might be big, but what kind of life will she have?"

Ethan, Noah, and Lucas, to my surprise, didn't seem particularly upset about losing their "chance" with me or their positions at Sterling Media. Instead, they found a new target for their derision: my choice.

I found them clustered in the company lounge a few days later, Bella hovering nearby, looking suitably concerned.

"Heard the latest?" Noah was saying, loud enough for me to overhear as I approached. "She's actually going through with it. Marrying the Tin Man from Oz."

Lucas smirked. "More like the broken toy no one else wanted. Guess even Sterling money can't buy taste."

Ethan remained silent, staring out the window, but his disapproval was a palpable force in the room.

Bella, of course, rushed to my "defense." "Oh, don't say that! Maybe... maybe Avelia sees something in him we don't. Maybe it's true love!" Her voice was saccharine sweet, her eyes wide and innocent.

I ignored them, heading for the coffee machine.

"Avelia," Ethan finally spoke, his voice cool and distant. "Are you sure about this? There's still time to reconsider. Don't make a decision you'll regret out of spite."

Spite? Did he truly believe my life revolved so entirely around him?

"My decisions are my own, Ethan," I said, not looking at him. "And they are not made out of spite."

Suddenly, Bella let out a small cry. "Oh! My necklace!"

We all turned. She was clutching her throat, her eyes wide with panic. Lying on the floor was my mother's antique diamond necklace, the one I had planned to wear to the upcoming charity gala, the one I had foolishly left on my dressing table that morning. It was now in two pieces, the clasp broken, several diamonds scattered like fallen tears on the plush carpet.

"What happened?" Ethan asked, rushing to her side.

Bella looked up, tears welling in her eyes. "I... I just saw it on Miss Sterling's desk... it was so beautiful... I only wanted to look... I must have knocked it over when I reached for it... Oh, Avelia, I'm so, so sorry! It's your mother's, isn't it?"

Her performance was flawless. The accidental touch, the devastating consequence, the perfect display of remorse.

This felt sickeningly familiar. The Statue of Liberty keychain, all over again, but on a grander, more painful scale.

"You were in my private rooms?" I asked, my voice dangerously low. "Touching my mother's jewelry?"

Noah stepped forward. "It was an accident, Avelia! Can't you see she's devastated? It's a necklace, it can be repaired!"

"Repaired?" I echoed. "This isn't just 'a necklace,' Noah. It was my mother's. It's irreplaceable."

"She said she was sorry!" Lucas interjected, his tone impatient. "What more do you want? You have dozens of pieces of jewelry. Bella has nothing. She just admired it."

Ethan picked up the broken pieces, his expression grim. "This is... unfortunate. But Bella didn't mean it. You know how she is, Avelia. A bit clumsy, perhaps, but never malicious."

He looked at me, and I saw it again – that same accusatory glint in his eyes I'd seen five years ago. As if I were the one at fault, for owning something beautiful, for leaving it where a "clumsy" girl could break it.

"You know, Avelia," Ethan continued, his voice taking on a lecturing tone, "sometimes I think you enjoy making Bella feel small. You have everything. She's just the housekeeper's daughter. A little compassion wouldn't go amiss."

Compassion. For the girl who systematically undermined me, who played the victim to perfection, who now stood there, tears streaming down her face, the very picture of wronged innocence, while my mother's legacy lay broken at her feet.

I remembered that day with the keychain. The humiliation. The forced apology. The way they had all sided with her, so quick to believe her tears, so quick to condemn me.

*"Apologize to Bella. Right now. Or don't blame me for calling off any understanding between us."* Ethan's words from five years ago echoed in my mind.

He was still doing it. Still protecting her, still blaming me.

The weight of those five years, of countless similar incidents, of their unwavering belief in her innocence and my supposed malice, pressed down on me.

I looked at the broken necklace, then at Bella's tear-streaked face, then at the three men standing guard around her.

My voice, when I finally spoke, was devoid of all emotion. "Get out. All of you. And Bella... stay away from my things. And stay away from me."

Bella sobbed louder. Ethan put a protective arm around her.

"There's no need to be cruel, Avelia," he said. "She's already suffered enough."

Suffered? My mother's necklace was broken. My trust, shattered long ago, was now ground into dust. And Bella was the one who had *suffered*?

The absurdity of it all was a bitter pill.