Chapter 3

The scene on the lawn was one of chaos and confusion. Guests were murmuring, pointing, some rushing forward to help the four figures twitching on the ground.

"What's happening?"

"Are they having seizures?"

I stood up, brushing the dirt from my torn dress. I looked down at them, my family, my fiancé, contorting in silent, excruciating pain. There was no pity in my heart, only a cold, sharp clarity. I knew their weakness now. This "Likeability Score" was their leash, and I was holding it.

The floating text was a mix of panic and fury.

[Make her stop! Do something! Gabby's future is on the line!]

[This bitch! How dare she do this to them! Someone needs to put her in her place!]

I ignored them. Their words were meaningless noise.

The agony seemed to last for an eternity, but it was probably only a minute. As suddenly as it began, the convulsions stopped. The four of them lay panting on the grass, drenched in sweat, their eyes wide with terror.

Ethan was the first to recover. He scrambled to his feet, his expensive suit now wrinkled and stained. He looked at me, not with anger, but with pure, unadulterated fear.

"Jocelyn," he gasped, his voice hoarse. "It was a misunderstanding. A terrible mistake. The papers... the real ones... they're in the safe."

"Yes, a mistake!" Clark Scott sputtered, pushing himself up with trembling arms. "A clerical error! Andrew, go get the real documents! Now!"

Andrew, looking paler than I thought possible, nodded weakly and staggered towards the house.

They were desperate to raise their score. To appease me.

I simply stood there, my arms crossed, and waited. The guests had backed away, forming a wide circle around us, watching the bizarre family drama unfold.

Andrew returned moments later, carrying a different, heavier portfolio. He handed it to me with a shaking hand, refusing to meet my eyes.

I opened it. Inside were legitimate, notarized stock certificates. A huge block of Scott Automotive, real deeds to several properties, and transfer documents for a trust fund that made my head spin. This was the fortune they had intended to steal.

"There," Maria said, her voice strained but trying for warmth. "See, darling? It was all a silly mix-up. We love you so much. Now, let's... let's continue with the engagement."

She gestured towards the stage, a hopeful, pathetic smile on her face.

I looked from the real documents in my hand to their terrified faces. I gave them a small, sweet smile.

"Continue?" I asked, my voice light. "But my dress is torn. And I'm feeling quite upset. I don't think I can go on with the party."

Their faces fell. The text in my vision flickered.

[Likeability Score still at 51. It's not going up! She's still angry!]

[Apologize more! Give her something else!]

Ethan immediately understood. "Of course, you're upset. It's my fault. I'll make it up to you. Anything you want, Jocelyn. Anything."

"Anything?" I repeated, tapping a finger to my chin thoughtfully. "Well... my feet do hurt from standing so long. And I feel a bit faint."

I looked directly at Andrew. "Brother, you look so strong. Could you carry me back to my room? I need to lie down."

Andrew's jaw tightened. The charismatic law student, the pride of the Scott family, being asked to act as a porter in front of all these people. Humiliating. But he saw the look in his parents' eyes. He saw the score, which had dipped back to 50.

He swallowed his pride. "Of course, little sister," he said through gritted teeth.

He walked over and scooped me into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder like a trusting, beloved sister. As he carried me through the stunned crowd and into the grand mansion, I felt the vibration of his body, tense with suppressed rage.

This was just the beginning.