Chapter 63 Chapter Sixty-two
ARA
“You look extra beautiful by my side, Ara. We belong to each other, don’t you see it?”
Ethan’s voice irritated me to no end.
He plucked a champagne flute off a passing tray and offered it like a prize.
I didn’t take the offering, I ignored him and focused my attention elsewhere.
Alcohol was the last thing I needed tonight. One sip and the mask would slip. One sip and I’d either throw up on his shoes or stab him with the stem.
“No,” I said without looking at him, cold and clear. “I don’t see.”
A few yards away, Ursula’s glare could have peeled paint. She stood in a tight circle of women who looked like they’d been born with diamonds in their fists and hate in their hearts.
Every single one of them stared at me like I was dirt stuck to Ethan’s shoe.
I refused to look behind me.
I didn’t need to. I felt Thayne’s stare boring into my back, hot and icy at the same time, a blade pressed between my shoulder blades.
Ethan leaned in, his lips almost brushing my ear, voice pitched low so only I could hear the ugliness and venom.
“Why did I send the dress?” He smiled against my hair. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you.”
“Why?” I pressed.
“I want you because taking you is how I win Thayne. I want you because the second you’re mine, really mine, he loses everything he’s ever bled for.”
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, and the mask slipped for half a second. Pure, gleeful hate glittered there.
“You’re the final move on the board, Ara.
And I’m about to put my brother in checkmate, with his queen wearing my colour while she screams my name.”
My stomach lurched so hard I tasted bile.
He raised his glass in a tiny, mocking toast.
“So drink up, princess. Tonight you help me bury him.”
It would never happen, but I didn't tell him that. I needed to keep acting confused and naive.
I let my lashes flutter, let my lips part just enough to look stunned, like a deer that finally understood the headlights were coming for her.
“Checkmate?” I echoed, soft and trembling, exactly the way he wanted me to sound.
Two could play this stupid game.
“Ethan… I don’t understand. You’re…. engaged to Ursula. Everyone heard and saw the announcement.”
I let the words wobble at the edges, let my fingers tighten on his arm like I was scared and clinging to the only solid thing in the room.
But deep inside me, I was stone.
He laughed under his breath, delighted, drunk on the act I was feeding him.
“Engagements end, princess,” he murmured, tracing one slow circle on my wrist with his thumb.
I tried to hide the cringe spreading on my face.
“People change their minds when something better comes along.” His eyes dragged down the emerald silk again, greedy and obvious.
“Something perfect.”
I swallowed hard, loud enough for him to hear.
Good.
Let him think I was crumbling.
Let him think the dress had already done half his work for him.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ursula watching us. Her face was twisted with rage, nails digging into her clutch like she wanted to rip my throat out.
I dropped my gaze to the floor, shoulders curling in just a little, the picture of a girl who’d realised too late she’d walked into the wrong cage.
Ethan’s chest puffed with victory.
I felt it, the exact second his guard slipped, the moment he decided I was already his.
Perfect.
Because the second he believed I was broken, I’d be close enough to slide the knife in myself.
And I’d make sure Thayne was watching when I did.
“I need to use the restroom,” I said to Ethan, letting my voice shake just enough to sound fragile.
Ethan’s eyes gleamed, already tasting the surrender he thought was coming.
“Of course, princess. Down the hall, second door on the left.”
He released my arm like a cat letting a mouse run, certain it had nowhere to go.
I slipped away, my heels clicking too loud in the sudden hush that followed me.
He let me go, smug, certain I was running to fix my lipstick and cry over how pretty I looked in his colour.
The hallway swallowed me.
The lights were dim, and the walls were painted a bright gold.
The low thump of music muffled behind velvet curtains trailed me as I walked further and further ahead.
My heels clicked too loud, like gunshots counting down.
I never made it to the restroom door. It was cracked open just enough for the female voices gossiping to spill out, sharp, vicious, and drunk on cruelty.
Ursula’s voice floated through first, high and cutting, the way only rich girls can make cruelty sound like gossip.
“Honestly, it’s pathetic,” she was saying, her laughter dripping like acid. “She actually thinks she’s special. The brothers are literally passing her back and forth like a party favour. Thayne keeps her on a leash, Ethan dresses her up. Same girl, different collar.”
A ripple of laughter echoed in the restroom, crystal and cold.
“Like, sweetheart, you’re not a girlfriend, you’re a toy they’re sharing. Thayne keeps her locked in the penthouse, Ethan picks her outfit. Just like Ursula said, same girl, different leash.” An unfamiliar voice echoed Ursula's words.
My knees almost gave out.
Another voice, syrupy and delighted followed next. It was like they were reading from a script and doing a rehearsal.
“Did you see her face when he called her his plus one? She looked ready to faint. So clueless.”
Someone actually snorted. “I just posted the photo. She in her stupid emerald dress, her arm linked with his. I added this caption: ‘Which brother gets her tonight?’ It’s already at ten thousand likes.”
I couldn’t breathe.
I pressed my back to the wall, my palms flat against the cool marble, trying to hold myself together while the world inside that restroom tore me apart piece by piece.
Ursula’s voice came again, louder now, performing. “By tomorrow morning every blog will have it. ‘Ara Irvington: the naive little thing both Slade brothers are passing around like champagne.’ She’ll never live it down.”
There was more laughter. Their phones were clicking as they typed furiously on their phones. The soft whoosh of stories and tweets flying into the universe.
I felt every word like a blade dragged slowly across my skin.
I had wanted to play the game, just long enough to crawl inside Ethan’s head, make him careless, make him spill whatever rotten plan he was hiding behind that smile.
I thought that I could handle it.
Thought I could wear the emerald dress like armour, let him think I was soft and stupid and his, and then walk away with the knife I needed to gut him.
But the knife was in my back now.
Ursula’s voice still echoed in my ears, bright and vicious, turning me into the night’s punchline.
She’d been humiliated the second Ethan paraded me in on his arm instead of her.
So she did what any cornered queen does: she rewrote the story so the humiliation landed on me instead.
And it worked.
In just a few minutes she’d turned me from Thayne’s fiancée into the city’s favourite joke.
The naive little nobody both Slade brothers were tossing between them like a toy.
My plan had backfired so beautifully it felt rehearsed.
I pressed my forehead to the cold marble wall, my breath shaking, tears burning tracks down my cheeks.
I never thought it would hurt this much.
I never thought they could make me feel so small, so dirty, so used, with just a few sentences and some perfectly timed photos.
I never thought the entire room would believe it before I even had the chance to open my mouth.
My chest ached like someone had cracked it open and poured acid inside.