Dean’s voice was sharp and unrelenting as he towered over me. “You need to stop treating Cecelia like an outcast, Hannah. She’s your sister.”

I blinked, stunned by the sheer audacity. My sister. Right. The same sister who had wormed her way into every corner of my life, tearing apart everything I held dear. And now he wanted me to be kinder to her?

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “I’m treating her like an outcast?” My voice shook, my emotions barely held in check. “Do you even hear yourself, Dean? I’m the one being treated like I don’t belong. Every time something happens, you’re always rushing to her rescue, not mine.”

He stiffened, his jaw tightening, but I wasn’t done.

“You leave me behind every single time,” I continued, my voice rising. “You coddle her, protect her, as if she’s your mate. So why don’t you just admit it, Dean? What is Cecelia to you?”

Dean’s gaze flicked to Cecelia, standing demurely by the door in the ripped remains of my mother’s dress. His hesitation was like a slap to my face. For a fleeting moment, I thought he might actually tell me the truth.

But instead, he turned back to me, his face a cold mask. “She’s like a sister to me, Hannah. That’s it. I don’t know what crazy idea you’ve gotten into your head, but you’re being ridiculous. Lunatic, even.”

My chest tightened. He was lying. I could feel it in my bones. But before I could respond, Cecelia stepped forward, her face the picture of innocence. “Hannah, you’re overthinking everything. Dean and I are just close. That’s all.”

Their lies came so easily, so smoothly, it made my stomach churn. How could they stand there and say these things, knowing what they’d done? Knowing how they’d betrayed me?

I swallowed hard, refusing to let the tears fall. Turning to Cecelia, I forced a bitter smile. “Well, since you’ve got the dress now, happy birthday in advance.”

Cecelia blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but I didn’t wait for her to respond. I brushed past both of them, my steps purposeful as I headed outside.

The crisp night air hit my face, and I inhaled deeply, trying to calm the storm inside me. The garden was quiet, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the breeze. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to disappear. To leave all of this behind.

“Hannah?”

I turned to see Nathan walking toward me, his expression softer than I’d seen in years. His anger from earlier had dissipated, replaced by concern.

“You okay?” he asked, stopping a few steps away.

I shook my head, unable to lie to him. “No. I’m not.”

He hesitated, then stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “What happened now?”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, I felt a glimmer of hope. Nathan had always been my protector in his own way, even when he was brash and impulsive. Maybe… maybe he was the answer.

“Nathan,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “I need your help.”

His brow furrowed. “With what?”

I took a deep breath, the words spilling out before I could second-guess myself. “I need you to pretend to be the father of my baby.”

Nathan stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said, my tone firmer this time. “I can’t let Dean know. If he finds out, he’ll use the baby to control me. I can’t… I can’t let that happen.”

Nathan ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps away. “Hannah, do you realize what you’re asking? People will think—”

“Let them think it,” I cut in, my voice rising. “Let them think whatever they want. We both know the truth. And we both know who the real cheaters are here.”

He stopped pacing, turning back to me. His expression was conflicted, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice breaking. “Nathan, I need to protect this baby. Please.”

For a long moment, he just looked at me, his jaw working as he processed everything. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll help you. But we need a plan.”

Relief flooded through me, and I managed a small, shaky smile. “Thank you.”

Later that night, I returned to my room, my mind spinning with the details of the plan Nathan and I had crafted. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

I pushed open the door, only to freeze in my tracks. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders hunched as he stared at something in his hand.

The breath left my lungs when I realized what it was. The pregnancy test.

He looked up as I entered, his eyes sharp and unreadable. “Are you pregnant?” he asked, his voice low. “Is it mine?”

My heart pounded, the air around me growing thick and suffocating. This was it. The moment of no return.

I straightened my spine, meeting his gaze head-on. “Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, I added, “But it’s not yours.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“It’s Nathan’s,” I lied, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

Dean’s expression shifted, a flicker of shock breaking through his stoic mask. For the first time, he looked truly shaken.

And for the first time, I felt like I had the upper hand.

I stood at the edge of the kitchen, arms elbow-deep in sudsy water as I scrubbed a stubborn dish. The clinking of glass and the hum of chatter floated through the air as the maids flitted about, adding final touches to the extravagant party. Cecelia’s birthday. Dean had spared no expense—gold-trimmed tablecloths, crystal chandeliers, and a cake so large it could probably feed a small village.

He treated her like royalty, like she was the goddess this entire territory had been waiting for. His mate, me? I was just another servant in the background, invisible.

I refused to let it bother me. Not when Nathan and I had our plan brewing. Every slight, every insult would soon be avenged.

"Still slaving away, Hannah?" Cecelia’s voice sliced through my thoughts like a knife.

I turned to find her leaning casually against the doorway, her red silk dress hugging her curves. She looked every bit the part of the spoiled princess, her lips curling in a smirk that made my skin crawl.

"Such a good sister," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Helping out with my party. Truly selfless."

I ignored her, dunking another plate into the water. She thrived on getting under my skin.

But then she took it a step further. "Though I can’t say I blame Dean for treating me better than you," she added, her voice lowering. "I mean, look at you—plain, pathetic, and desperate."

I froze, my hands tightening around the sponge. The anger bubbled up before I could shove it down. I spun around, fixing her with a glare.

"At least I’m not a spoiled brat who needs constant attention to feel important," I shot back, my voice calm but laced with venom.

Her smirk faltered for a split second, but she recovered quickly. Before she could retort, Dean appeared, his tall frame cutting between us like a wall.

"Hannah," he said, his voice sharp and commanding. "Don’t make a scene."

My blood boiled, but I forced a tight smile. "Maybe you should watch over your dog," I said, my voice sweet and cutting. "She’s the one barking, after all."

Dean’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. Cecelia let out a huff and stormed away, her heels clicking against the polished floor. I grabbed a towel and wiped my hands, barely sparing him a glance before heading upstairs.

Nathan stood by the window at the far end of the hallway, his gaze fixed on the crowd below. Cecelia and Dean were easy to spot in the sea of people, their laughter and flirtation loud even from here.

The tension in Nathan’s posture was palpable, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Still staring at them?" I said softly as I approached.

He turned, his expression dark. "It’s hard not to."

I nodded, understanding all too well. "Come on," I said, motioning toward my room. "Let’s talk."

Once inside, I closed the door behind us and leaned against it. Nathan paced the small space, his agitation rolling off him in waves.

"I want to expose them," I said, my voice firm.

Nathan stopped pacing and turned to me, his brow furrowed. "Now?"

I hesitated, the weight of our father’s declining health pressing on me. "No," I admitted, sighing. "It’s not the right time. Not with your Dad so sick. It would only stress him out."

Nathan’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded reluctantly. "You’re right. But it doesn’t make it any easier to watch them parade around like this."

His tone was bitter, and when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, my heart sank.

"I was going to propose to her tonight," he said, opening the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring. "For her 23rd birthday."

The weight of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. Nathan’s heartbreak was raw and palpable, and it made my own pain feel insignificant in comparison.

"I’m sorry," I said softly, stepping closer. "But maybe this is a sign that she wasn’t meant for you. You deserve someone better, Nathan. Someone who won’t betray you."

He gave me a small, sad smile. "You’re kind, Hannah. Even when you’re hurting, you’re thinking of others."

His gaze lingered on me, and suddenly the air between us shifted. It was subtle at first—a strange, electric tension that made my pulse quicken.

"Nathan…" I started, unsure of what I was feeling.

But before I could finish, there was a sharp knock at the door.

We both froze, and when the door swung open, Dean stood there, his expression dark and unreadable.

"What are you two doing?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The room fell into a tense silence. My heart pounded as I met Dean’s gaze, his eyes flicking between me and Nathan. I knew that look. He wasn’t just suspicious—he was furious.

And I like to see the jealousy in his eyes.

Dean stood at the doorway, his gaze bouncing between Nathan and me, his jaw set in a tight line.

I arched a brow, amused as I watched his fists clench at his sides. Was he really jealous? That was rich, considering he was the one parading Cecelia around like a trophy.

"Why the hell are you two in here?" Dean finally growled.

Nathan, to his credit, didn't back down. "We were just talking," he said simply, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Dean scoffed. "In a bedroom?"

I let out a short laugh, stepping forward. "Oh? Is it so strange that I'm talking to Nathan in private?" I tilted my head, eyes narrowing. "Because I don't remember you having a problem when you talk to my sister alone."

Dean stiffened. That shut him up.

I saw it—the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the way his lips parted just slightly like he wanted to deny it, but couldn't. Satisfaction curled in my chest like a warm ember. He had no rebuttal.

Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply before changing the subject. "The party starts soon. You two should get ready."

And just like that, he turned on his heel and left.

I smirked at his retreating figure, but beside me, Nathan sighed. "Hannah, you shouldn't provoke him like that," he said in a low voice.

I turned to him, my amusement dimming. "Why not? He deserves to feel just as humiliated as we do."

Nathan rubbed his temple. "Dean isn't just some arrogant Alpha—he's calculating. If you keep poking at him, he'll find a way to turn things against us."

I lifted my chin. "Let him try. I know how he works." I met Nathan’s gaze with determination. "I'm done playing nice, Nathan. He thinks he can walk all over me while flaunting my own sister in front of me? No. He doesn't get to have that satisfaction."

Nathan hesitated, then sighed, nodding. "Just be careful, Hannah."

The grand hall was already packed with guests by the time we descended the stairs. Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowd, and the soft hum of conversation filled the space. The scent of expensive perfume and wine lingered in the air, mixing with the delicate aroma of fresh flowers.

I was painfully aware of the plain dress I wore—simple, understated, and nothing like the extravagant gowns the other women flaunted. But I didn't care. If Cecelia expected me to wither under her shadow, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

As if on cue, Cecelia appeared before me, wearing an obnoxiously smug smile. Her red gown shimmered under the light, clinging to her in all the right places.

"Why do you look like a granny?" she asked, voice dripping with mockery. "Honestly, Hannah, you're embarrassing."

I met her gaze, unbothered. "Let's see who's more embarrassing tonight," I said smoothly, smiling.

Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but then she flipped her hair and sauntered off.

I exhaled slowly, pushing down the wave of irritation that threatened to surface. Not tonight, Cecelia. You won’t get to me tonight.

The party went on in a blur of chatter and music. I sat at my table, sipping from my glass of wine, while my supposed mate twirled my sister across the ballroom floor. Their laughter rang louder than the music itself, their movements synchronized, effortless.

I ignored the way my stomach twisted.

But the murmurs around me didn’t go unnoticed.

"Isn't she the Alpha’s mate?"

"Why is he dancing with Cecelia like that?"

"Poor thing… he barely acknowledges her."

Pity. It was written all over their faces. And I hated it.

Before I could drown in my own thoughts, Nathan slid into the seat beside me. "Dance with me."

I blinked at him. "What?"

He gestured toward the dance floor. "You heard me. Dance with me."

I let out a breathy laugh. "Nathan, I'm a terrible dancer."

His lips curled into a small smile. "Then I'll teach you."

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to put on some kind of spectacle, but then I caught a glimpse of Dean. He was still dancing with Cecelia, but his gaze was on me now.

And just like that, I decided.

"Okay," I murmured.

Nathan took my hand, leading me to the center of the room. He placed one hand on my waist, the other clasping my fingers.

"Just follow my lead," he whispered.

And I did.

At first, I stumbled—awkward, hesitant. But Nathan was patient, guiding me with gentle movements. Soon, the music carried us, and for the first time that night, I wasn't thinking about Dean.

I was enjoying myself.

But then, I caught sight of Dean again.

His expression was unreadable, but his grip on Cecelia had tightened. His jaw was locked, his eyes burning with something dangerously close to jealousy.

As soon as the dance ended, Dean was there.

"You need to keep your distance from my brother," he said, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

I let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Why? You think you can dictate who I spend my time with?"

His glare deepened. "I am your mate, Hannah."

My amusement turned cold. "Are you?" I tilted my head, my eyes locking onto his. "Because from where I'm standing, it seems like you're more concerned about Cecelia than me."

Dean's lips pressed into a thin line, his face flushing with something dangerously close to shame.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "If I should keep my distance from Nathan, then maybe you should stay away from Cecelia."

His face hardened.

But before Dean could respond, Cecelia’s voice rang out across the hall.

"Everyone, may I have your attention?"

The crowd quieted, all eyes turning toward her.

And in that moment, I knew—whatever she was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.