Chapter 4

The day of the gala, my body betrayed me.

My period started, and with it came the familiar, crippling cramps that left me doubled over. The pain was a hot, sharp fist clenching deep inside me.

I curled up on the couch, a heating pad pressed against my stomach, feeling weak and miserable.

Then my phone buzzed. It was Ethan.

Dinner with the board tonight. 8 PM sharp. Be ready.

I stared at the message, my heart sinking. I couldn' t. Not like this.

I texted back: I can' t. I' m in a lot of pain. My period.

His reply was instant.

Chloe can' t handle these sharks alone. She' s too delicate. I need you there to run interference. Don' t be late.

I hesitated, the pain making my fingers shake as I typed. Ethan, I really can' t. It' s bad this time.

The three little dots appeared, then vanished. A new message came through.

The payment for Leo' s facility is due tomorrow. I' d hate to be late with it.

The threat was clear. The fist in my gut clenched tighter. It wasn't just pain anymore. It was fear.

I had no choice.

I dragged myself into the shower, the hot water doing little to ease the agony. I put on a black dress, packed my purse with painkillers, and took a cab to the restaurant.

I was five minutes late.

Ethan' s eyes were like chips of ice when I arrived. Chloe was beside him, looking perfect and innocent in a white dress.

He didn't say a word to me. He just gestured to the empty seat next to him.

The dinner was a nightmare. The "sharks" were aggressive, their questions sharp, their gazes predatory. I did my job. I deflected, I smoothed things over, I made sure the attention stayed off Chloe.

Then, one of the clients, a man with a leering smile, pushed a cocktail towards Chloe. "Come on, little bird. Have a drink with me."

Ethan intervened instantly, his voice smooth but firm. "Chloe doesn't drink. She' s too delicate."

He then turned to me, his smile gone. He picked up the cocktail and slid it in front of me. "Maya will drink it."

My stomach churned. "Ethan, I can't."

"You were late," he said, his voice low. He then flagged down a waiter and ordered a shot of vodka. The waiter brought it over, the glass frosted with cold.

"And this is for your tardiness," Ethan said, pushing the shot glass next to the cocktail. "Drink them both."

The whole table was watching. Chloe looked at me with a flicker of something that might have been pity, but it was quickly replaced by a smug little smile.

My brother' s face flashed in my mind. The beeping of his machines. The sterile white of his room.

I picked up the cocktail and downed it. The sweet, cloying liquid burned my throat. Then I took the shot. The ice-cold vodka was a shock to my system. It felt like swallowing glass.

A moment later, the pain hit. It was a white-hot, blinding agony that ripped through me. I gasped, clutching my stomach. A wave of dizziness washed over me.

I collapsed.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Ethan, his arm around Chloe, shielding her eyes.

"Don't look, baby," he said, his voice soft and protective. "Don't look at the mess."