Chapter 3

Back in the present, I decide to begin my revenge.

"You want me to consider your proposal?" I say, my voice like ice. "Fine. But on my terms. You will do everything you once refused to do with me."

His eyes widen in confusion, but desperation makes him nod.

"Anything."

The first step is to strip him of his working-class pride. I have Caleb take him to a high-end designer store and dress him in a Tom Ford suit that costs more than his entire company is worth. He looks stiff and uncomfortable, a stranger in his own skin.

Then, I take him to 'Vortex,' an exclusive nightclub in the Meatpacking District. It's the kind of place he once despised, a symbol of the obscene wealth that separated us.

The moment we walk in, all eyes are on us. On me, the ice queen of real estate, and the handsome, but clearly out-of-his-element man by my side. My socialite friend, Molly Todd, spots us immediately.

"Jocelyn! And... Ethan? My God, is that really you?" Molly says, her voice dripping with amusement. She remembers the high school scandal perfectly.

Soon, my fiancé, Ryan Clark, arrives with his own entourage. Ryan is the son of my father's closest ally, our engagement a strategic merger of two powerful families. He's handsome, possessive, and fiercely protective of my social standing.

He wraps an arm around my waist, his eyes locking on Ethan with cold disdain.

"Jocelyn, darling. Who's your friend?"

"Business," I say simply.

The night wears on. Ethan stands silently by my side, enduring the curious stares and whispered comments. He's a ghost from a past I was supposed to have buried.

A drunk acquaintance of Ryan's, a man named Phillip, stumbles over. He leers at Ethan.

"I remember you. You're the charity project from Queens. Still clinging to Jocelyn for a handout?"

Ethan's jaw tightens. Before I can intervene, he steps forward.

"Apologize to her," Ethan says, his voice low and dangerous.

Phillip laughs. "Or what?"

Ethan glances at the table, laden with bottles of top-shelf liquor. "I'll drink every bottle on this table. If I finish them, you apologize to Jocelyn and pay for it all."

A hush falls over our group. It's a reckless, desperate bet. Ryan looks amused, ready to watch the show.

But I'm not. I see the same self-destructive pride that I once loved and hated.

Ethan starts drinking. Bottle after bottle of expensive whiskey, vodka, tequila. He doesn't slow down. He's not just drinking; he's punishing himself. The crowd is cheering him on, but I see the agony in his eyes.

He's about to collapse when I finally step in. I grab the last bottle from his hand.

"That's enough."

I turn to the stunned Phillip, my voice cutting through the noise.

"He's with me. You will pay for every bottle, and then you will get out of my sight."

Phillip pales and scrambles to pull out his credit card. Ryan looks at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. I just asserted my ownership of Ethan in front of everyone.

I help Ethan to his feet. He's barely conscious, mumbling my name.

"Jocelyn... I'm sorry..."

For a fleeting moment, the ice around my heart cracks. I see the boy who once defended my honor, not the man who broke my heart.