Chapter 3

Harper Jensen POV:

The charity gala for the children's hospital was the kind of event Carter thrived on. A sea of old money and new power, cameras flashing, and the city' s elite hanging on his every word. For me, it was usually a necessary evil, a two-hour performance of being the supportive, elegant fiancée.

Tonight, it was a battleground.

I moved through the glittering crowd on autopilot, a fixed smile plastered on my face. My eyes scanned the room, not for familiar faces, but for one in particular.

And then I saw her. Corinne Schmidt. She was standing near the bar, talking to a city official, looking unassuming in a simple black dress. But my gaze immediately locked onto her left hand, which was resting on the marble countertop.

There it was. The Hart signet ring.

It wasn't a replica. It wasn't a trick of the light. It was heavy, ornate, and it sat on her finger as if it belonged there. As if it had always been meant for her.

A cold, hard fury solidified in my chest. He had lied. So easily. So completely.

Carter found me moments later, his hand possessively on the small of my back. "There you are. I was just telling Judge Albright about your new museum design."

"Carter," I said, my voice dangerously low, my smile never wavering. "Your campaign manager is wearing your family' s signet ring."

He followed my gaze. For a fraction of a second, I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes before it was expertly masked by amusement.

He chuckled, a soft, dismissive sound. "Oh, that. Don' t be silly, Harper. It' s a replica. I had a few made for top-level staff as a bonus for all their hard work this quarter. A little piece of the 'Hart team' to motivate them."

He squeezed my back gently. "You have the real one waiting for you, you know that. The one that matters. Just like you' re the one who matters."

The lie was so audacious, so insulting in its simplicity, that I was momentarily stunned into silence. He thought I was that stupid. That gullible.

Later that evening, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Liam, Carter' s best friend. The one from the audio recording. His conscience, it seemed, was starting to get the better of him.

The text contained a single screenshot.

It was a social media post from a private account under the name 'Cori S.' The profile picture was Corinne, smiling. The post was a close-up of her hand, the Hart signet ring prominently displayed.

The caption read: "Finally got to wear this for real. So excited for what' s next with my husband. He says the fake girlfriend will be gone soon, and he' ll buy her a new condo as a parting gift. A small price to pay for her years of service."

A parting gift. A new condo.

He wasn't just planning to annul his marriage to Corinne. He was planning to discard me. To pay me off like a decommissioned employee.

The room began to spin. The chatter of the crowd, the clinking of champagne glasses, it all faded into a dull roar. The blood pounded in my ears. I felt a hand on my arm and looked up to see Liam standing there, his face pale with guilt and anxiety.

"I' m sorry, Harper," he mumbled, not meeting my eyes. "I tried to tell him... he' s in too deep."

"Thank you, Liam," I said, my voice a dead calm. I folded my hand over my phone, the screen burning against my palm.

I found Carter by the French doors leading out to the terrace. He was mid-laugh with the mayor, the picture of charm and confidence. I waited.

When the mayor moved away, I stepped forward, my expression serene. "Carter, can I speak to you for a moment?"

We stepped onto the terrace. The cool night air was a welcome shock to my heated skin.

"What is it?" he asked, his smile still in place.

I held up my phone, showing him the screenshot.

His smile vanished. The mask fell, and for the first time, I saw the cold, ruthless man from the recording. His face went rigid, his jaw tight with fury. But the fury wasn't for the deception. It was for being caught.

He didn't feign outrage. He didn't deny it. He simply stared at the phone, then at me, his eyes like chips of ice.

Then, he did something I never expected. He turned and called Corinne' s name.

She scurried over, a nervous look on her face. Carter grabbed her by the arm, his fingers digging into her flesh.

"What the hell is this?" he hissed, shoving the phone in her face. "What did I tell you about discretion? About keeping your mouth shut?"

Tears instantly welled in Corinne' s eyes. "Carter, I... I was just excited. I didn' t think..."

"You didn' t think?" he snarled, his voice a venomous whisper. He turned her to face me, his grip on her arm unrelenting. "Apologize. Apologize to Harper for your foolish, star-struck indiscretion."

Corinne sobbed, her body trembling. "I' m so sorry, Ms. Jensen. It was stupid. I just... I admire Councilman Hart so much, and the replica ring... it felt so real. I got carried away. Please, forgive me."

It was a flawless performance. The frightened, emotional employee. The powerful, angry boss. The wronged, magnanimous fiancée. He had cast us all in our roles.

He released her arm with a slight shove. She scurried away, still crying.

Then, Carter turned back to me, his expression transforming in an instant. The anger was gone, replaced by a look of profound, loving concern. He cupped my face in his hands.

"See?" he murmured, his thumb stroking my cheek. "Just a star-struck employee with a crush. You can' t let things like this get to you. You' re the only one for me, Harper. The only one."

He leaned in to kiss me. I stood frozen, my body rigid, as his lips met mine. It felt like being kissed by a snake.

I pulled away. "I' m going home. I have a headache."

"Of course, baby," he said, all warmth and sympathy. "I' ll have the driver take you. I' ll be home as soon as I can."

I didn' t wait for the driver. I took a cab. And from the backseat, I watched my own apartment building. Half an hour later, a car pulled up. Carter' s car.

He got out. Then, the passenger door opened. Corinne.

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her with a desperate, passionate intensity that he hadn't shown me in years. I could see him whispering against her hair, his hand stroking her back.

Even from a block away, I knew what he was saying. You were brilliant. She bought it completely. We' ll have our own real celebration soon. I' ll book a private yacht.

The driver' s voice startled me. "Ma' am? Is this the spot?"

I couldn't answer. I just nodded, a single, jerky motion, as I watched the man I was supposed to marry lead his pregnant wife into the home I had built.