2
The party finally wound down, the last of the guests drifting away, just as Silas and Cora decided to make their grand reappearance,
suntoring downstairs.
After seeing off the older relatives, only the
younger crowd remained, already buzzing
about where to take the after–party.
I was standing with my best friend, Chloe.
She was gushing, so relieved that I’d “finally
seen the light” and was ready to escape my
“sea of suffering,” as she dramatically put it.
I just offered a small smile, then turned to see
the happy couple descending the stairs.
One was flushed and rosy–cheeked, the other
preening with smug satisfaction.
Cora’s hair was a tangled mess, and she’d
changed into a slinky, V–neck dress that did a
very poor job of hiding the fresh hickeys
く
blooming on her neck and the faint, tell–tale
teeth marks near her cleavage.
You’d have to be certifiably blind not to
realize they’d just been going at it.
The room went dead silent.
I knew what they were all waiting for. The
meltdown. The screaming. For Quinn Hamilton
to go full–blown harpy.
God knows I’d provided them with enough of
those spectacles in my past life.
But now? I just idly swirled the champagne in
my glass, casually picking up the thread of
my previous conversation with Chloe.
My breezy, unbothered attitude had them all
く
staring as if I’d grown a second head.
Cora had clearly been banking on my
histrionics to highlight her own sweet, gentle,
long–suffering nature. Plan thoroughly foiled. I
saw the flicker of raw frustration in her eyes
before she masked it.
Silas, however, was frowning at the mostly
demolished cake. “Quinn, what’s the meaning
of this? I specifically told you that Cora had
to be the one to cut the cake today! Are you
deliberately trying to piss me off?”
Chloe, bless her loyal heart, couldn’t hold
back.
“Are you actually serious, Silas? Get a damn
grip! Whose party do you think this is,
anyway? And since when does a charity case
ᄀ
get to call the shots in the Hamilton family?”
She leaned in, her voice dripping with scorn.
“You’ve been wearing the emperor’s new
clothes for so long, you’ve actually forgotten
you started out as a beggar, haven’t you?”
Chloe never minced words.
Silas’s face instantly darkened.
As a “disadvantaged youth” secretly
sponsored by Hamilton Corp, Silas absolutely
loathed anyone bringing up his less–than-
glamorous past.
I used to bend over backward to protect his
fragile ego, practically ordering everyone to
treat him like a prince.
Г
Apparently, all it did was inflate his already
overblown sense of entitlement.
“Where are the guests? Why did everyone leave?” Silas finally scanned the now–sparse
room, a flicker of unease in his eyes.
“Silas, my man,” one of his sycophants, Leo,
piped up, “the cake’s been cut! That means
the party’s over, right?”
“So, does that mean you’re officially the
Hamilton family’s son–in–law now?” another
gushed. “The future head of Hamilton Corp!”
A ripple of gasps went through the remaining
group, then they swarmed Silas, a chorus of
fawning, opportunistic congratulations.
1
Г
I knew exactly why they were so shocked.
The Hamiltons were practically American
royalty. Marrying into the family meant
inheriting an empire, a dynasty.
I placed a light hand on Chloe’s arm, shaking
my head almost imperceptibly. Not yet.
After the initial wave of adulation, a smug,
self–satisfied smirk spread across Silas’s
face. But when his gaze landed on me, he
quickly rearranged his features into his usual
condescending mask.
“Quinn,” he began, his tone magnanimous,
“even though you made this rather hasty
decision without my explicit permission, I’ll be
generous and overlook it. But from this
<
moment forward, you are to treat Cora with
the same respect and care that you show
me.”
He paused for effect. “Otherwise, I can call
off this wedding at any moment, and then
you’ll find yourself quite unmarriageable.”
With a flourish, he fished a ring out of his
pocket.
It looked ridiculously cheap, like something
you’d get from a gumball machine – probably
nine–ninety–nine for a whole box of them.
Silas was just about to hand it to me when
Cora “accidentally” bumped his arm. The
tacky ring clattered to the floor, and she, with
perfect comedic timing, promptly stepped on
- it.
く
Cora’s face crumpled in an exaggerated show
of distress. She quickly stooped to pick it up,
her voice trembling as if she were on the
verge of tears. “Oh, Quinn, I’m so dreadfully
sorry! I didn’t mean to… It’s just, the ring is
so incredibly beautiful, I simply wanted a
closer look.”
She held out the now slightly mangled piece
of plastic.
She was playing the victim, but I saw the
poorly hidden smirk, the blatant mockery
dancing in her eyes.
I slowly raised my hand, deliberately flashing
the substantial diamond ring already gracing
my middle finger.
<
“No need, Cora. If you like it so much, by all
means, keep it. As you can see, I already have
one.”
Silas’s face clouded over instantly. He
snatched the cheap ring from Cora’s grasp.
“Cora, darling, if you like rings so much, I’ll
buy you a new one in a few days.”
Someone from the dwindling crowd piped up,
their voice laced with sarcasm. “Ms. Hamilton,
always so thoughtful! Your fiancé doesn’t
even bother to show up, and you’ve already
gone ahead and bought yourself a diamond
engagement ring.”
I didn’t dignify that with an answer, just
offered a faint, enigmatic smile.
I used to constantly beg Silas for gifts, for
any little token of affection. Once, for
Valentine’s Day, after weeks of my pleading,
he’d grudgingly given me a single, wilting
rose.
I’d treasured it like it was the rarest jewel,
even dug up a patch in the backyard to plant
it, tending to it with a devotion that bordered
on obsession.
Later, even when I found out it was just a
reject, a bruised cast–off plucked carelessly from the lavish bouquet he’d presented to
Cora, I still cherished it. Like the pathetic fool
I was.
Silas, noticing my distinct lack of fawning
attention, actually looked annoyed.
He deliberately slung an arm around Cora’s
shoulders, pulling her possessively close, their
bodies practically melded together, all while
his eyes darted to me, gauging my reaction.
Chloe had to leave for another engagement,
and suddenly, the whole charade felt
suffocating. I needed some fresh air, away
from the cloying scent of deceit.
I’d just turned to head outside when Silas’s
hand shot out, grabbing my wrist in a bruising
grip.
I yanked my arm free, my voice sharp and
cold. “Silas, keep your hands to yourself!
Don’t you dare touch me!”
Silas blinked, momentarily taken aback, then
a sneering laugh escaped him. “Quinn, still
playing the innocent little virgin with me?
Please. You’ve been obsessed with me for
years. Everyone in this city knows exactly
what you want.”
He leaned closer, his breath hot and reeking
of stale alcohol. “Besides, I’m your future
husband. What’s so wrong with me touching
you?”
I fought down the burning urge to slap that
smug look off his face, glaring at him instead.
“And you’re so utterly convinced that my
future husband will be you?”
Silas scoffed, a dismissive, ugly sound. “If not
me, Quinn, then who else would possibly want
you?”
Г
His eyes raked over me, contemptuous. “Our
circle is small. The eligible men are either
already married, decidedly uninterested in
women, or… well, there’s always that cripple
from the King family, I suppose.”
He smirked. “Quinn, surely you’re not
planning on being a lonely, untouched widow
before you’re even properly married, are
you?”
