I was a ghost for twenty-six years, haunting my art studio in Europe. Worried I’d end up marrying some penniless artist, my mother called me back to New York City to see through an arranged marriage and plan my engagement party.

First step: choose a dress. At an appointment-only boutique on Madison Avenue, I fell for a vintage, one-of-a-kind silk gown worth fifty thousand dollars. Just as I was telling my assistant to have it wrapped, the woman beside me glanced over. "That one's decent," she said to the salesclerk. "I'll try it on."

The clerk immediately snatched the dress box from my assistant's hands.

"Excuse me," I said, my voice tight with annoyance. "I saw it first. Is this how you treat your customers?"

Her eyes raked over my simple clothes. "Fifty thousand dollars. Can you afford that?"

She lifted her chin, her voice oozing conceit. "I'm here with Grayson Croft, CEO of Croft Industries. And in New York, the Crofts make the rules."

What a coincidence. Grayson Croft was my fiancé.

I pulled out my phone, found his number, and drawled lazily into the receiver, "This woman you're with is trying to steal my engagement dress. What do you want to do about it?"

————————

————————

1

Girl? The word reeked of a sickening intimacy. If Grayson didn’t have a damn good explanation for this, the engagement party was off.

But Grayson's voice on the other end was ice-cold. "Who is this? What right do you have to butt into my business with Hailey?"

Just as I was about to reveal my identity, he hung up.

A fire ignited in my chest. You've got some nerve, Grayson, not even saving my number.

Hailey saw my expression and howled with laughter. "You bitch! Did you really think having Grayson's number meant you could sleep with him? Dream on!"

Her eyes swept over me disdainfully. "Even the janitors at Croft Tower have better taste than you."

I’d always favored simple, comfortable clothes over flashy labels. It had never occurred to me that my own style could be turned against me.

"Are you serious? Still judging people by their clothes? Grayson must be blind to have fallen for a woman like you."

Her antics had completely ruined my mood for shopping. I strode to the counter with the dress box.

The clerk looked at me hesitantly. "Miss, in our store, VIP clients get priority."

Hailey smirked triumphantly and slapped a gold membership card onto the counter.

"This is a premier membership card. You need to spend a hundred grand just to qualify. What’s a nobody like you doing playing dress-up with the elite?"

I'm not one to pick fights, but Hailey was pushing all the wrong buttons.

I pulled out my black card and handed it to the clerk, trying to suppress my rage. "Sign me up for a membership. Then wrap the dress."

Hailey immediately turned on the clerk. "In New York, the Croft family is law. If you dare sell this dress to her, I'll have Grayson shut this place down by tomorrow."

The color drained from the clerk's face. "Miss, I'm just an employee. I can't afford to offend the Crofts."

Other customers began to murmur their advice. "I've seen this Miss Hailey around. Mr. Croft spoils her rotten. You should just give up."

"The last person who crossed her had their company bankrupted by Croft Industries."

"Even if you have money, it's nothing compared to the Croft empire. You should apologize and beg for her forgiveness."

Buoyed by the fawning crowd, Hailey was practically floating.

She commanded me, "Get on your knees, bitch. Say 'I'm an ignorant bitch' three times. Maybe then I'll think about letting this go."

In all my twenty-six years, I'd never met anyone so brazenly arrogant.

"Say that again? What was it you wanted me to say?"

"Are you deaf? 'I'm an ignorant bitch.' Don't you understand English?"

A chilling smile spread across my face. "Oh, I understand perfectly. And since you're so aware that you're an ignorant bitch, you can get the hell out of my sight."

Hailey instantly realized she'd been played. She shrieked and lunged at me.

Pathetic. I was a Krav Maga expert. Did she really think her clumsy lunges would scare me?

I snapped out a sharp sidekick, sending Hailey sprawling to the ground with a pathetic yelp.

The people around us stared at me in horror. "Oh my God! How dare she hit Miss Hailey!"

"If Mr. Croft finds out, he'll tear her apart."

"Not even God can save her now."

Their chatter was meaningless to me. The Croft family only had its current power because of my mother's backing. In New York, there wasn't a single person who could truly frighten me.

I slapped my black card on the counter again and ordered the clerk, "Ring me up."

With trembling hands, the clerk took my card and hastily boxed the dress.

I picked up the box and turned to leave.

But Hailey scrambled up from the floor and blocked my path. "Don't you dare leave!"

I brandished my fist in her face. "What? You want another round?"

Hailey flinched. I sneered and headed for the exit.

Just then, a black Lamborghini purred to a stop at the boutique's entrance. A foot shod in a custom leather shoe emerged from the car.

God, the sight of his perfectly sculpted ankle alone made my heart skip a beat.

My gaze traveled up, and my breath hitched.

He was easily six-foot-three, with broad shoulders and long legs. And that face—it was a masterpiece, with sharp, chiseled features that were flawless from every conceivable angle.

Hailey immediately scrambled over to him, sobbing out her version of events.

"Grayson, baby, she stole the dress I wanted, and she hit me..."

So, this was my fiancé.

I'm a sucker for a handsome face, and Grayson’s was checking every box. For a face like that, I could almost forgive his rudeness on the phone.

I put on my most charming smile. "Hello, I'm Cassia. Your fiancée."

No wonder my mother said I'd be satisfied with my arranged fiancé. She knew me too well.

The crowd of onlookers gasped.

"What! She's Mr. Croft's fiancée!"

"A fiancée versus a girlfriend? The fiancée is definitely the real deal. No wonder she's so bold!"

"Not necessarily! It all depends on who Mr. Croft really wants!"

Grayson’s gaze fell on me, his tone hostile. "Don't flatter yourself. This marriage was my father's idea. I never agreed to it."

Hailey immediately linked her arm through his, leaning against his shoulder and shooting me a triumphant smirk.

"With a face like that, how could you ever think my Grayson would be interested in you!"

Someone in the crowd quickly chimed in, "Exactly! If Mr. Croft marries anyone, it should be a socialite from a family of equal standing. Why would he marry some nobody!"

"The way she's dressed, they wouldn't hire her to clean toilets at Croft Tower!"

I didn't consider myself a world-class beauty, but I was a long way from ugly. How had I become so hideous in their eyes? The way these sycophants changed their tune was nauseating.

I announced to Grayson in front of everyone, "Grayson, go tell your father I'm calling off the engagement. It's you who isn't worthy of me."

My mother had mentioned that his father, Arthur, had moved heaven and earth to arrange this marriage. If he found out his own son had sabotaged it, he'd never let Grayson off the hook.

The thought cheered me slightly. I couldn't be bothered to argue with these fools any longer and turned to leave.

But now that her backup had arrived, Hailey blocked my path again.