Chapter 1

The crystal chandeliers of the Fairmont ballroom threw a warm, expensive light across the room.

It was supposed to be the happiest night of my life.

My engagement party.

Sarah Miller, my girlfriend of six years, stood beside me, her hand resting in the crook of my arm. Her smile was as radiant as the diamond on her finger, a ring that had belonged to my grandmother. We greeted friends, accepted congratulations, and listened to my father give a speech about welcoming Sarah into our family.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

A crash echoed from the back of the room, near the bar. A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd as heads turned.

It was Liam Davis, Sarah's assistant.

He was drunk, his suit jacket askew, his face flushed with a mix of alcohol and rage. He swayed on his feet, holding a half-empty bottle of champagne like a weapon.

"A toast!" he slurred, his voice too loud, cutting through the polite chatter. "A toast to the happy couple."

A few people clapped uncertainly. My hand tightened on Sarah's arm.

"What is he doing?" I muttered.

Sarah pulled her arm away. "Ethan, calm down. He's just had too much to drink."

"A toast," Liam repeated, stumbling forward, "to Sarah. The most wonderful, beautiful, and kind woman in the world. A woman I love."

The room fell silent. You could hear the clink of ice in a glass from across the hall.

"I love you, Sarah," he declared, his eyes zeroing in on her. "Not him. Me. It's always been me."

My face went rigid. The air became thick with a collective, unspoken embarrassment. This wasn't just a drunken mistake, it was a public declaration, a deliberate act of sabotage.

Sarah, instead of shutting him down, rushed toward him.

"Liam, stop it," she said, her voice soft, pleading. She took the bottle from his hand. "You're drunk. Let's get you some air."

She didn't look at me. She didn't spare a single glance for the humiliation splashed across my face, or the stunned expressions of our family and friends. Her entire focus was on placating the man who had just tried to ruin our engagement.

She led him out of the ballroom, her arm around his waist, guiding his stumbling steps.

I stood alone in the center of the room, the spotlight now feeling like an interrogation lamp.

My father walked over, his face a mask of controlled fury.

"Ethan," he said in a low, firm voice. "You have three days."

I knew what he meant. The Hayes family pact. An archaic, binding agreement that stated if I wasn't married by my thirty-fifth birthday-which was in three days-I would have to honor the arrangement my grandfather had made years ago. An arranged marriage to the daughter of the Chen family, a strategic alliance between two powerful New York dynasties.

I had fought against it for six years, all for Sarah. I had convinced my family she was the one. Tonight was supposed to be the final proof.

Now, it was just a public disaster.

Sarah returned a few minutes later, her expression flustered.

"I'm so sorry, Ethan," she whispered, reaching for my hand. "He's just... very emotional. He didn't mean it."

"He said he loves you, Sarah."

"He's my best friend, he's just confused," she insisted, her eyes darting around at our guests. "Don't make a scene."

Her words were not for my comfort, but for crowd control. She wasn't defending my honor, she was managing her own image. The humiliation felt cold and heavy in my chest.

Just then, Liam reappeared, looking slightly more composed. He walked straight up to me.

"Ethan, man, I am so sorry," he said, extending a hand. His apology was smooth, practiced. "I drank way too much. I don't know what I was saying. I'm just so happy for you guys, I guess it all came out wrong."

I stared at his outstretched hand, not moving.

Sarah jumped in, grabbing his hand and shaking it herself.

"Of course you are, Liam," she said with a bright, false smile. "We know you are. Ethan's just a little shocked, that's all. We accept your apology."

She accepted it. For both of us. She drew a line in the sand, and I was on the other side of it.

I felt nothing. The anger, the embarrassment, it all just drained away, leaving a hollow space.

I looked at Sarah, at her desperate attempt to smooth things over, to pretend this crack in our foundation wasn't a chasm.

And I knew.

I turned and walked away without another word. I didn't stop to say goodbye to my parents or our friends. I just walked out of the ballroom, through the lobby, and into the cool night air.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was my father's assistant.

"Mr. Hayes," she said, her voice crisp and professional. "Your father has asked me to confirm your meeting with the Chen family. It is scheduled for tomorrow at noon."

The call was an echo of my fate. The choice had been made for me, not by my family, but by Sarah.

"Confirm it," I said, and hung up.