Chapter 2

I didn't leave immediately. There was one last thing I had to do.

Conrad's grandmother, the formidable matriarch of the Ellison clan, was celebrating her eightieth birthday in two days. It was an event I couldn't miss. Not because I wanted to see Conrad, but because Mrs. Ellison was the only person in his world who had ever been kind to me. And more importantly, because my mother had left me a significant block of shares in her company, which were being managed by my father and would only be transferred to me upon my twenty-fifth birthday-an event that was still months away. The birthday party was the perfect, and perhaps final, opportunity to appeal to Mrs. Ellison for help in securing my inheritance before I disappeared for good.

Mrs. Ellison had a soft spot for me, a fact that both Conrad and Kassidy detested. She had personally invited me, and refusing to go would have been an insult.

The night of the party, I dressed carefully. Not to impress Conrad, but to arm myself.

The Ellison estate was dazzling, filled with the city's elite. I found Mrs. Ellison in the garden, looking regal.

"Abby, my dear," she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "You look lovely."

I handed her my gift, a hand-carved sandalwood prayer wheel I'd spent a month searching for.

Her face lit up. "Oh, this is exquisite. You always know just what I like." She patted my hand and then motioned to Conrad, who was standing stiffly nearby. "Conrad, be a good host and get Abby a drink. Don't leave her standing here all alone."

Conrad's jaw tightened. He looked at me as if I were something he'd scraped off his shoe.

"She's not a child, Grandma. She can get her own drink."

"Conrad!" Mrs. Ellison's voice was sharp.

But he was saved by his phone. He glanced at the screen, his expression softening for a fraction of a second before he turned and walked away without another word.

Mrs. Ellison sighed. "I don't know what's gotten into that boy."

"It's alright, Mrs. Ellison," I said, forcing a smile. I appreciated her kindness, but it couldn't change the reality of her grandson's feelings for me.

A few minutes later, a murmur went through the crowd. Conrad was back.

And Kassidy was on his arm.

She was dressed in a shimmering white gown, looking like an angel. A very fragile, delicate angel.

Mrs. Ellison's face hardened. "What is she doing here? I didn't invite her."

Kassidy clutched Conrad's arm, her face pale. "Conrad, I... I don't feel so well." She started coughing, a small, theatrical cough.

Conrad immediately went into protective mode, his arm wrapping around her waist. "What's wrong?"

The guests whispered among themselves, their eyes darting between me, the rumored-but-despised fiancée, and Kassidy, the beautiful woman on Conrad's arm. It was obvious who they thought the real lady of the house was.

I just stood there, a bitter taste in my mouth, trying to make myself invisible.

The whole night was a performance. Conrad never left Kassidy's side. He fetched her drinks, held her hand, and laughed at her jokes, a sight so rare it was like seeing a statue come to life. I watched them, a strange detachment settling over me. I saw it all so clearly now-every time he'd been cold to me, it was because Kassidy was nearby. Every time he'd shown me a sliver of kindness, it was because she wasn't.

My love had been so blind. I had been so stupidly, arrogantly sure that I was special to him.

Suddenly, Kassidy gasped, clutching her throat. "I can't... I can't breathe."

Conrad went pale with panic. "What is it? What's happening?"

He held her as she swayed, his eyes scanning the room frantically.

Kassidy looked at me, her eyes wide and innocent. "The... the gift Abby gave your grandmother. Sandalwood. I'm... I'm allergic."

The accusation hung in the air, thick and poisonous.

Conrad's head snapped toward me. His eyes were no longer cold; they were blazing with a murderous rage.

He moved so fast I didn't have time to react. In two long strides, he was in front of me. His hand shot out and clamped around my throat.

"You did this on purpose," he snarled, his fingers digging into my skin, cutting off my air.

Panic flared in my chest. I clawed at his hand, but his grip was like iron. Black spots danced in my vision.

"Conrad, no!" I choked out, my voice a useless rasp.

Kassidy let out a faint cry in the background. "Oh, no... don't be mad at her, Conrad. I'm sure she didn't know."

Then, with a delicate sigh, she slumped against him, fainting gracefully into his arms.

That was all it took.

Conrad's focus snapped back to her. He released me so abruptly I staggered back, gasping for air, my throat burning.

He scooped Kassidy up as if she weighed nothing.

Mrs. Ellison rushed forward. "Conrad, what are you doing? Put her down!"

He paused, his body rigid with fury. He didn't look at his grandmother. He looked at me.

His voice was a low, terrifying promise.

"This isn't over, Abby. You will pay for this."

Then he turned and strode out of the party, leaving me standing there, humiliated, terrified, and utterly alone in a room full of staring eyes.