Chapter 4

I didn't have time to think. Adrenaline surged through me, sharp and clean. I had to get out, now.

I set the crate of glasses down quietly and started walking, fast, towards the loading dock exit. I didn't run. Running would draw attention.

"Hey! You!"

A voice barked behind me. I froze.

Two of Brandon's friends, Mark and another one I recognized as Josh, stepped out from behind a truck, blocking my path. They were big guys, athletes from his university days who now served as his unofficial muscle.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mark sneered, crossing his arms. "The party's just getting started."

"My shift is over," I said, keeping my voice even. "I'm leaving."

"I don't think so," Josh said, cracking his knuckles. "Brandon wants to have a word with you."

Before I could react, they each grabbed one of my arms, their grips like iron clamps. They dragged me away from the exit, back into the brightly lit chaos of the service area.

The noise of the party upstairs filtered down, a muffled beat of music and laughter. Down here, it was suddenly silent. Kitchen staff and other workers stopped what they were doing, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Brandon appeared at the top of the service stairs, Sarah and Chloe flanking him. He descended slowly, a king surveying his domain.

"Alex, Alex, Alex," he said, shaking his head with that same fake sadness from months ago. "I gave you a chance to reform. To get better. And here you are, stealing from my family. Again."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, struggling against the hands that held me. It was useless.

"My grandmother's watch," Brandon announced to the assembled staff. "A vintage piece, a priceless family heirloom. It's gone missing from the green room." He pointed a finger at me. "And you were the only non-staff member seen in that hallway."

It was a lie. I hadn't been anywhere near the green room.

"That's not true," I said, my voice rising. "I was in the loading dock the whole time. Check the security cameras."

Brandon smiled, a thin, cruel line. "Oh, we will. But first, we need to find my watch. I think you know where it is." He looked at me, his eyes glittering with malice. "Get on your knees, Alex."

"What?"

"You heard me," he snapped, his charming facade dropping for a second. "Get on your knees and turn out your pockets. Or do we have to make you?"

Mark and Josh tightened their grip, forcing me down. My knees hit the hard concrete floor with a painful crack. The humiliation was a physical thing, a hot wave that washed over my entire body. I was on my knees in front of my brother, my ex-fiancée, my sister, and a crowd of strangers.

Chloe had her phone out again, of course. Recording everything for her audience. Sarah watched with a look of cold satisfaction.

"I didn't take anything," I said through gritted teeth, looking up at Brandon. "You know I didn't."

"Then you won't mind if we search you, will you?" he said sweetly. He nodded to Mark. "Check him."

I felt a surge of panic. This wasn't just about the watch. This was about degradation. This was a public stripping of my dignity.

"You have no right," I said, my voice shaking with a rage I couldn't control.

"I have every right," Brandon said. "This is my party. My property. And you are a suspected thief."

He gestured to the crowd of workers. "Everyone, watch closely. This is what happens to people who betray the Miller family."

Mark's hands started patting me down, rough and invasive. He went through my pockets, my shirt, my pants. The eyes of the crowd were on me, a hundred tiny pinpricks of judgment and morbid curiosity. I felt like an animal in a cage.

I could see the smirks on the faces of Brandon's friends. I could see the pity and fear in the eyes of the kitchen staff. I could see the cold, detached superiority on the faces of my so-called family.

I closed my eyes, trying to block it out. I wanted to fight back, to scream, to lash out. But what was the point? They had all the power. I was on my knees, a condemned man in a cheap server's uniform, my fate entirely in their hands. The world narrowed to the rough feel of the concrete under my knees and the humiliating touch of a stranger's hands searching my body for a crime I didn't commit.

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