Chapter 4

His words were meant to destroy me. And they almost did.

For a second, I believed him. The pain was so sharp, so absolute, it felt like the truth. The world tilted, my carefully built reality shattering around me.

Then I saw it. The slight tremble in his lower lip. The way his hand, the one that had just struck me, was clenched into a fist so tight his knuckles were white.

He was lying.

He was a terrible liar.

A strange sense of calm washed over me. The heartbreak was still there, a dull, heavy ache in my chest, but it was now overlaid with a cold, clear certainty.

He was in trouble, and he was trying to push me away to keep me safe.

Foolish, noble man.

"I see," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. I even managed a small, sad smile. "Well, in that case, I wish you both the best."

I turned to leave, to give him the escape he was so desperately trying to create for me.

"Wait."

His voice was a choked whisper.

I paused but didn' t turn around.

"Don' t you dare let her leave!" Brittany shrieked, her voice shrill with rage. She wasn' t satisfied with my defeat; she wanted my utter humiliation. "She ruined my engagement party! She' s not going anywhere!"

She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, four large men in black suits were blocking the exit. They moved with a practiced efficiency that spoke of professional security.

I glanced back. A flicker of a smirk played on my lips. This was just pathetic.

"Let her go, Brittany," Ethan said, his voice low and dangerous.

"No!" she shot back, grabbing his arm again. "Are you protecting her, Ethan? After she came here to make a scene? You belong to me now! You do what I say!"

I saw the worry flash in Ethan' s eyes. It was raw and undeniable. He was scared. Not for himself, but for me.

That was all the confirmation I needed. My heart settled, the ache replaced by a fierce, protective resolve.

Okay, Ethan. You want to play the villain to save me? Fine. Two can play at that game.

"He' s just embarrassed," Brittany said to Ethan, her tone shifting to a smug, possessive purr. "He doesn' t want people to know he wasted his time with such trash."

She turned her attention back to me, her eyes gleaming with malice.

"You' re not leaving," she declared, striding towards me. The bodyguards closed in, forming a tight circle. "You' re going to stay right here and watch. You' re going to watch me and my fiancé celebrate our love."

She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "In fact, Liam is here tonight. You know, my brother. He' s brought some friends from the capital. Very important people. Maybe after the party, I' ll introduce you. A pretty little thing like you... I' m sure one of them would be happy to... take care of you."

The threat was vile and unmistakable.

I was supposed to be terrified. Instead, I felt a surge of something else entirely. Amusement.

She had no idea who she was threatening. She had no idea who was actually in this room.

"Shut up, Ava!" Ethan barked from the stage, his voice strained. He was trying to stop me from reacting, from digging myself in deeper.

I met his panicked gaze and gave him a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of my head. I' ve got this.

I turned back to Brittany, a cool smile on my face. "Introduce me to your important friends? I' d be honored."

The confidence in my voice seemed to throw her off. She frowned, confused.

One of her friends, a girl with an equally unpleasant face, sidled up to her. "Brittany, look at her. She' s not even scared. She' s probably just a gold-digger who' s mad her meal ticket is gone. Ethan' s probably right, he was just protecting her reputation by calling her a stalker so she wouldn' t look pathetic."

That single line, meant as an insult, was a gift. It confirmed everything. He was protecting me.

I almost laughed. These idiots were handing me the truth on a silver platter.

"Fine," Brittany sneered, recovering her composure. "Have it your way. Guards, take her to that corner over there. Make sure she has a good view. And don' t let her move a muscle until I say so."

The guards roughly pushed me towards a dark corner of the ballroom. I didn't resist.

I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms, and watched them. I was a prisoner, an object of ridicule.

But I was exactly where I needed to be.

The show was just getting started.

And they had no idea I was the one directing it.