At the wedding rehearsal dinner in a luxurious Manhattan hotel, my fiancé Jeffrey Blackwood's adopted sister, Carina Blackwood, suddenly turned pale and nearly fainted.

Panic-stricken, he swept her into his arms and, ignoring the sea of stunned faces, rushed her to a private clinic.

Half an hour later, he called, his voice eerily calm. "Carina's pregnant."

I opened my mouth to ask, but he cut me off.

"It's mine," he said, his tone flat. "It was a drunken mistake."

"This stays between us. Not a word to the media or our families. I'll handle it. We'll figure out what to do after the baby is born."

"The wedding is postponed. You're the hostess. You need to go out there and manage the guests."

My throat tightened, and I couldn't utter a single syllable.

He then added, "Oh, and put that San Francisco Museum of Art project on hold for now. Go stay with Carina. Her emotions have been all over the place, and we can't risk anything happening."

A dry laugh escaped me. "Alright."

He seemed satisfied with my answer and hung up.

But what he didn't know was that Eric Monroe and I had a pact: if I wasn't married by my thirtieth birthday, I would marry him.

And today was my thirtieth birthday.

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1

I was unnervingly calm, not a single accusation passing my lips. The moment I hung up, Jeffrey called again.

"Alice, I'm sorry. This is my fault, I know. But you have to believe me, I only see Carina as my sister. The baby was a mistake."

I curled my lips into a sarcastic smile, staring at my reflection in the mirror—flawlessly made up, with dead, hollow eyes. "How touching. I had no idea you two were that close."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by his weary sigh.

"I know you're angry. Take it out on me, fine. But Carina is still in school. Unwed and pregnant... if word got out who the father is..."

"She was an orphan when my parents adopted her. They gave her our name, but you know the rest of the family would never accept a scandal like this. If the media gets ahold of it, her life is over."

"So I expect you to be the bigger person here. Accept this child, and we'll raise it as our own after we're married. That way, no one will ever know."

I tilted my head back to stifle the sting in my eyes, my voice hoarse. "Jeffrey, let's call off the engagement."

"Call it off?" He paused, then his voice dropped into an angry roar. "Alice, stop being ridiculous! Weren't you the one so eager for this wedding?"

"All of New York knows you're my fiancée! What is marriage to you, a game? Alice, when did you become so damn impulsive?"

I could picture him now, his brows knitted in frustration. Sure enough, his threat came next.

"Alice Hayes, I'm asking you one last time. This wedding is tied to a nine-figure business partnership between our families. Are you really going to throw that away?"

My fingers clenched the phone, knuckles white. I forced a bitter smile. "That's right. I don't want you anymore, Jeffrey."

He let out a cold laugh. "I don't have time for these games. Do whatever you want."

The line went dead.

I stood in the center of the banquet hall. Amid the astonished gasps of the crowd, I ripped the expensive antique hairpiece from my hair, letting it clatter to the floor as I turned and fled.

Jeffrey's parents moved to block my path. Harrison Blackwood spoke first, his voice sharp.

"Alice, what is the meaning of this? Jeffrey takes Carina to a clinic, and you throw a tantrum that ruins the entire evening? You want to make the Blackwood family a laughingstock?"

Eleanor Blackwood snorted.

"I said from the start you two were a poor match. The Blackwoods are a legacy in New York architecture. Your family is just nouveau riche from the West Coast. You have no class. I never understood what Jeffrey saw in you. He was marrying down."

"But he insisted, so I relented. And now, we get this humiliating spectacle!"

Harrison Blackwood sneered.

"Fine! Don't marry him. Better that than have your temper cost the Blackwood family its century-old reputation."

Despite Jeffrey's vile betrayal, his parents directed all their fury at me.

I clutched the fallen hairpiece, my fingertips trembling. "Jeffrey is the one who postponed the wedding indefinitely. As for why, you should ask him. Some things... are just too filthy to be spoken aloud."

Hearing it was Jeffrey's decision, they grew bolder.

"Even so, as his fiancée, you don't just run off! Where is your dignity?"

"What did your parents teach you? You don't have the first clue about social graces. How could you ever be fit to be the matriarch of this family?"

I took a deep breath, my gaze turning sharp. "I will not marry into the Blackwood family. Not now, not ever. If you're finished, please step aside."

"You!" Their faces twisted, clearly shocked that the girl who had always swallowed her pride to please them was now standing up for herself.

I ignored them, striding past and heading for the hotel bar on the first floor.

"No breeding whatsoever!" Eleanor Blackwood shrieked at my back.

In the bar, someone was already waiting.

A well-tailored suit accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs. The dim light from the bar highlighted the sharp line of his jaw.

Only the faint shadows under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion; he hadn't been sleeping well.

Seeing me, he straightened up, crossing his arms and flashing that familiar, roguish smile.

I looked away, hiding the redness rimming my eyes. "Last I heard, a certain someone swore he wouldn't be caught dead at my wedding."

He leaned in close, his scent a clean mix of cedarwood, his warm breath ghosting over my ear.

The moment our eyes met, I was transported back ten years, to the cocky, charismatic boy I once knew.

"Alice, a bet's a bet."

I pressed my lips together, silent.

He grew anxious, his voice rising. "Don't tell me you forgot! I still have the napkin with our thumbprints locked in my safe!"

"I don't care what just happened with him," he cut in. "Three days. Las Vegas. We're getting married. If you don't show..." He paused, then threw caution to the wind. "I'll fly to California and drag you there myself!"

With that, as if terrified to hear me say no, he pushed a martini toward me, spun on his heel, and vanished from the bar, leaving a single sentence hanging in the air: "I'll be waiting in the car."

I picked up the glass and let out a choked laugh as a single tear fell into the drink.

That fool. Of course, I remembered the pact from our college graduation.

Our families were old friends. We had grown up together, so close that the thought of romance between us felt impossible.

Ten years ago, he'd confessed his feelings, and I'd told him we were better as friends.

Hurt, he'd insisted on this ridiculous bet.

I never thought I'd be the one to lose.

Shortly after I returned to my hotel room, a cold text from Jeffrey arrived.

He hadn't even bothered to call. Instead, his assistant had packed my things and dumped them like trash outside his penthouse.

The most jarring sight was the lace bed set my mother had hand-woven, carelessly stuffed into a clear garment bag. Its delicate patterns seemed to mock me under the harsh hallway lights.

"Come get it now!"

"If you don't want it, I'll have the doorman throw it out."

I stared at the screen, my fingertips icy.

He knew exactly how to twist the knife. I could abandon the designer bags and jewels, but I had to retrieve that bedding.

"Fine. On my way."

That lace bed set... my mother had spent six months on it, weaving every intricate detail by hand.

A woman who'd never done housework had developed calluses on her fingers.

The night before the wedding, she'd handed it to me with a smile. "Darling, I know this might seem old-fashioned for New York, but it's my blessing to you. I wish you a lifetime of happiness."

But when I arrived at the apartment, the doorway was empty.

It had only been half an hour.

I told him I was coming. Was he that desperate to erase me?

Fury surged through me. I shoved the apartment door open and stormed inside.

The scene before me was like a plunge into an ice cave.

Carina sat at the dining table while Jeffrey rested a gentle hand on her lower abdomen. They were looking down at an ultrasound photo on a tablet, the tender expression on his profile a blinding agony to witness.

"Jeffrey," Carina whispered, "I think the baby just moved."

Jeffrey leaned closer, a smile gracing his lips that I had never seen before. "It's only been a few weeks. You're probably imagining things. But I bet he'll be a troublemaker, just like you."

When he looked up at her, his gaze was impossibly soft. "I hope he has your eyes."

Carina blushed, smiling shyly.

Jeffrey placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his tone suddenly laced with guilt. "Are you sure? You could stay, you know. I can take care of you and the baby. A child needs its mother."

Carina placed a finger on his lips and shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. "Jeffrey, if I stay, what about Alice? She's your fiancée."

At the mention of my name, Jeffrey's body tensed, his face darkening.

"Her? She's just throwing a tantrum. Once this baby is born, she'll come crawling back for the sake of our family business. Women from nouveau riche families like hers only care about money. They have no pride."

"Do you remember how she chased me? That fawning look on her face... It's pathetic just thinking about it."

Tears streamed silently down my cheeks.

So the bold pursuit I had been so proud of was just pathetic in his eyes.

The Blackwoods were an architectural dynasty in New York, and Jeffrey was their golden boy.

Five years ago, he came to California to discuss a project with my father.

My father, full of praise for him, had made a point of introducing us.

I fell for him instantly, trying every clumsy, heartfelt trick I could think of to get close to him.

He once told me impatiently, "Don't waste your time. We're from different worlds."

I had grinned and replied, "Then save me the trouble and just say yes."

He had glanced at a quiet Carina in the distance, then suddenly took my hand with a self-deprecating laugh. "Alright."

I had leaped up and hugged him, so deliriously happy that I completely missed Carina turning and running away, or the way his entire body had gone rigid in my arms.

Only now did it all make sense. He was using me to provoke Carina, or maybe to hide his own twisted feelings for his adopted sister.

No wonder he always avoided talking about our future and barred me from his private studio.

A wave of bitterness churned in my stomach. I was about to leave, but I couldn't go without my mother's lace.

"Alice!" Jeffrey turned, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips. "What are you doing, skulking in the doorway? Your junk is gone. Having second thoughts?"

I dug my nails into my palm. "My mother's gift. Where is it?"

He froze for a second, his expression hardening. "That old lace? It was an eyesore. Why would I keep it?"

"My mother wove it by hand," I said, my voice trembling. "Give it back, and I'll be gone."

Seeing the tears in my eyes, he frowned. "You're crying? Over a piece of lace? Alice, you're being childish."

Jeffrey tugged irritably at his tie, looking like he wanted to say something to defuse the tension, but he remained silent.

Beside him, Carina spoke up, her voice a fragile, hesitant whisper.

"Alice, please don't blame Jeffrey. I had the housekeeper put your things in the guest room."

As she spoke, she gently stroked her belly, and tears instantly welled in her eyes.

"Alice, please don't go. If it's because of the baby... I can get rid of it. I know this baby was a mistake. None of you want it…"

Before she could finish, she was sobbing, her body swaying as if she might collapse.

"Don't you dare!"

Jeffrey's voice was raw as he pulled Carina into a protective embrace, his eyes flashing at me with pure venom.

"If she wants to go, let her! But no one is touching my child! You and this baby are all that matter to me now!"

"Alice, if this is why you came, then get out!"

I let out a cold laugh and strode into the guest room.

The lace bed set was crumpled in the dog's bed, covered in dirty paw prints. The once-exquisite pattern was now a filthy mess.

I picked up the lace, my finger trembling as I pointed at it. "Carina, explain this! This is your idea of 'in the guest room'?"

She shrank back. "I didn't mean to. I felt sick, so I just put it down... I didn't think the dog would..."

She started to bend over. "Alice, don't be angry. I'll have it dry-cleaned for you."

But the moment she bent down, she cried out.

"Ah! My stomach."

Jeffrey lunged, shoving me violently to the floor.

My head slammed against the sharp corner of the glass coffee table. A sharp pain exploded behind my eyes, and I felt a warm liquid trickle down my temple.

I bit my lip, refusing to make a sound, just smiling up at Jeffrey, wanting one last look to see if this man had a heart.

He was already holding Carina, checking on her frantically, the glare he shot my way filled with a cold, absolute disgust.

"What the hell do you want? I'm begging you, just stop. Do you get some sick pleasure tormenting us over a piece of old lace?"

A cold hollowness spread through my chest.

He had been cold to me before, but he had never looked at me with such hatred. He truly despised me.

Suddenly, it all felt so pointless. Why was I still here, letting him humiliate me?

I gave up.

The lace was stained, just like our relationship. It could never be clean. I didn't want it.

And I didn't want him.

I pushed myself up, my vision blurred by blood. "Jeffrey, I wish you two a lifetime of happiness. I hope you're still this devoted when Page Six plasters your faces everywhere."

As I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm. Seeing the blood on my face, his expression flickered with something like exasperation. "You're not thinking straight. Go back to California for a few days. I'll call you in three days. Don't say anything you'll regret."

I wrenched my arm from his grasp and walked out.

The home we had spent years building... and in the end, I was just a guest.