Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Abby Talley POV:

Connor's laughter echoed in the silent ballroom, each chuckle a small, sharp blow. He was enjoying this, performing for his audience, relishing my public humiliation. "Cat got your tongue, Abby? Realizing how ridiculous you sound?"

Jana glided to his side, her expression a perfect blend of pity and concern. It was a look she had perfected over years of practice. "Connor, don't be so hard on her," she cooed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "She's just nervous. It's a big day." She turned to me, her eyes glittering with malice. "Abby, dear, you must be careful. I've heard such terrible things about Brannon. They say he once bankrupted a company just for sport. You wouldn't want to end up as one of his casualties, would you?"

The crowd murmured their agreement, a chorus of hushed warnings and veiled threats. "She's right, you know." "That man is a shark." "Connor is the safe bet. The only bet."

In my past life, their words would have been knives, carving away at my resolve. I would have crumbled, apologized, and begged Connor to forgive my foolish outburst. But the girl who feared their judgment was long gone, replaced by a woman who had faced far worse monsters than a few gossiping executives.

"My choice is my own," I said, my voice steady. It wasn't an answer, but a declaration. A boundary.

Jana's face fell. My composure was ruining her performance. She needed a victim. She took a step closer to me, her hand fluttering near her chest as if she was suddenly feeling faint. Her movement was fluid, a rehearsed piece of theatre. She stumbled, not away from me, but into me. Her shoulder brushed against mine with the lightest of touches.

And then she allowed herself to fall to the floor.

A theatrical gasp escaped her lips, followed by a loud, heart-wrenching sob. She cradled her arm, her face contorted in agony. "Abby! Why would you push me?"

The room erupted. Connor was by her side in an instant, his face a mask of thunderous rage. He helped her to her feet, cradling her as if she were made of glass.

"Are you insane?" he snarled at me, his voice shaking with fury. "She was trying to help you! What is wrong with you? Is your jealousy so consuming that you'd attack your own cousin?"

His cousin. The lie was so embedded in our family's narrative that even he believed it. My parents had taken Jana in, given her a home, an education, everything she had. But she was not my sister. She was not even my blood. She was the daughter of a distant relative, a social-climbing viper we had foolishly welcomed into our nest.

Jana, hidden behind Connor's protective frame, shot me a look of pure, unadulterated triumph.

A dry, mirthless laugh escaped my lips. "I didn't touch her."

"Liar!" Connor spat. "I saw it! Everyone saw it! You've been acting like a spoiled brat all night, and now this. Is this because I showed Jana a little attention? My God, Abby, I knew you were obsessed with me, but this is pathetic."

"Connor, please," Jana whimpered, pulling at his sleeve. "Don't be angry with her. It's my fault. I shouldn't have... I just wanted us all to be a happy family." Her words were pitch-perfect, painting her as the magnanimous victim and me as the unhinged aggressor.

The whispers around us grew louder, more venomous. "Did you see that?" "Pushed her right to the ground." "Talley's daughter has a mean streak."

Connor's face was inches from mine, his features twisted with disgust. The charming mask was gone, revealing the monster I knew so well. For a terrifying second, I thought he was going to lash out. The memory of his past anger, of the sharp, chilling fear, sent a jolt of ice through my veins.

His hand shot out, not to strike, but to tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His touch was cold and firm.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

His voice, a low and terrifying growl, cut through the ballroom, silencing every whisper. "If you ever," he seethed, "cause trouble for Jana again, I will personally see to it that Howard reconsiders your entire legacy. Do you understand me?"

The verbal blow landed with the force of a physical one. A collective, horrified gasp filled the room. The heat of public humiliation burned on my cheek.

The warning was clear. The line had been drawn. And in his eyes, I had just crossed it.