Chapter 62 Chapter Sixty-one
ARA
The space between me and Thayne felt like a canyon, cold, wide, and impossible to cross.
But I couldn’t stand here burning alive in this stupid dress while the whole world watched.
I took one uncertain step forward.
Ethan clicked his tongue, sharp and mocking, like a teacher scolding a child.
He slid in front of me so fast the cameras almost missed it, blocking my path with his lean body.
The flashes and white bright lights of cameras and phones went berserk.
“Ah-ah-ah, not so fast,” he purred, his voice silky and loud enough for every microphone to catch.
He tilted his head, that lazy, poisonous smile on his face spreading. “The birthday boy made a rule, didn’t he, brother? Every couple has to match.”
He lifted one hand, a slow and dramatic motion, brushing invisible dust off the emerald-green embroidery stitched into the collar of his white tux. It was the exact shade of my dress.
The crowd ate it all up. The phones and cameras rose higher.
Someone actually gasped.
I felt the ground tilt.
Ethan took another step toward me, slow, stalking, like we were on a stage and the script was already written.
“Do you know what that means, Ara?” His voice dropped to a lover’s whisper, but it carried, God, it carried.
“It means you’re my plus one tonight.”
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t even breathe.
I couldn’t do anything except stand there drowning in the stupid emerald dress while the paparazzi waited for me to break.
Ethan leaned in, close enough that his cologne choked me. “You and Thayne?” He flicked his gaze to Thayne, lips curling. “You don’t match at all.”
Thayne was watching the whole thing unfold silently, but when he finally spoke, his voice rolled out low and lethal, the kind of quiet that made the air itself freeze.
“You won’t dare go in with her.”
It wasn’t a warning.
It was a promise carved in ice.
Ethan’s smirk flickered, just for a heartbeat. Something real and ugly flashed behind his eyes.
Fear, maybe. Or excitement. I wasn't sure which one.
Then he smoothed it away, turned back to the cameras, and smiled like a prince who’d already won.
“Oh, watch me.”
He offered me his arm, the emerald cuff glinting under the lights.
The entire red carpet held its breath.
I looked at Thayne.
His face was stone.
My heart was a trapped bird beating itself bloody against my ribs.
I didn't know what to do. I didn't know the right thing to do.
Was I to take Ethan’s arm?
Should I walk in there on the wrong brother’s side while every camera in the city recorded the moment Thayne lost everything?
Or bolt straight to Thayne and let the world see me choose him, knowing Ethan would twist it into “poor desperate girl clinging to the losing side”?
Both choices felt like stepping off a cliff.
Ethan’s elbow stayed bent, waiting, that smug little smile daring me to do it.
The emerald thread on his cuff glinted like a snake’s eye.
Ursula was probably already inside, dressed in whatever colour she’d picked, yet here he was, ready to parade me in on his arm like I was the real prize.
So what the hell was this?
A public humiliation?
Was it a test to see if he could actually make me obey?
Or the final knife he wanted to twist in Thayne’s chest before the night was over?
The sensible part of my brain screamed: Run to Thayne. Now. Let him crush Ethan’s windpipe in front of the cameras for all I cared.
But a colder, quieter voice whispered something else.
It whispered to play along.
To let Ethan think I was the scared little lamb he believes I am.
To get inside his head. And not just that, to find out how deep this poison runs.
If I went with Thayne right now, Ethan would just spin a new lie tomorrow.
But if I walked in on Ethan’s arm for five minutes, just five, I might hear the truth slip out of his drunken mouth.
I might learn exactly how far he’s willing to go.
I could weaponise my own humiliation.
I hated myself for even thinking it.
But I hated losing Thayne more.
So I lifted my chin and forced my lips into the tiniest, sweetest smile I could fake, and slid my hand into the crook of Ethan’s arm.
His muscle flexed under my fingers like he’d won the lottery.
The cameras went nuclear. Flash flash! And click click!
I didn’t look back at Thayne.
I couldn’t bring myself to do it because if I saw his face right now, if I saw the devastation I’d just carved into it, I would shatter into a thousand pieces on this red carpet.
Instead I stared straight ahead and let Ethan lead me forward.
I hoped Thayne would understand this was war, not surrender.
Even if it felt exactly like betrayal.
“You’re such a good girl,” Ethan crooned in a voice low enough for only me to hear, his thumb stroking the inside of my wrist like I was a pet he’d just bought. “Maybe I’ll reward you later for it.”
The words slid down my spine like slime. I wanted to break his fingers.
But I kept the fake little smile plastered on my face and let him steer me through the tall glass doors of Marilyn Munroe Hall.
The second we crossed the threshold, the roar became hush.
Hundreds of voices dropped to a stunned whisper, then to nothing at all.
The silence was so thick it pressed against my eardrums. Champagne glasses froze halfway to lips. Heads turned in perfect, predatory unison.
At dead centre of the marble floor stood Mr. Slade Senior, glass in hand, his cold eyes glittering with triumph.
And right beside him was Ursula.
Chocolate-brown silk poured over her body like liquid sin, hugging every lethal curve. She looked expensive, vicious, and ready to murder.
Her gaze snapped to my hand tucked in Ethan’s arm, then to the emerald dress hugging my skin, then to the matching emerald thread on his collar.
Her pupils shrank to pinpricks.
She stepped forward, her stiletto heels stabbing the marble like gunshots.
“What the fuck is this stunt?” she hissed, loud enough for the entire room to hear.
“You were supposed to match with me.”
Ethan chuckled, lazy, cruel, enjoying every second. “Can’t even control your jealousy in public, darling?”
Ursula’s face went scarlet under the perfect makeup. “Excuse me?” She laughed, sharp and ugly. “You drag this little whore in here wearing your colour, while I’m standing right here? Why isn’t she clinging to Thayne where she belongs?”
She flung one manicured hand toward me like she was swatting trash.
Every pair of eyes followed the gesture.
I felt the emerald silk burn hotter, branding me, exposing me, screaming guilty even though I’d done nothing but survive.
Ethan’s grip tightened on my arm,
possessive and proud. “Look at what you’re wearing,” he said, voice dripping mockery as he flicked his gaze over her brown dress. “Mud brown. How… fitting.”
Ursula looked ready to claw his eyes out.
The silence in the room turned hungry.
And somewhere behind me, I felt the temperature plummet, cold, murderous fury rolling in like a storm front.
Thayne had just walked through the doors.
I didn’t have to turn around to know.
I felt him in my bones.
Ethan pressed me to his side and I tried to hide my cringe.
“She's my plus one for tonight, and that's final. If you have a problem with it, you can leave.” He said it loudly so that everyone within earshot would hear him.
I hated myself for even doing this to start with, but I convinced myself that I was helping Thayne.
But despite that, I was terrified of the fact that maybe I'd lost him.
For good, this time.