Yeah. I knew exactly who that "important person" was.

Mia. Fresh off the plane from whatever fancy school abroad.

He talked to me like I was five, like I was throwing a tantrum over nap time.

But then—

I caught my reflection in the window.

White dress—custom-made. Hair styled to perfection. Tight waist, long legs, chest all dolled up.

I looked like one of those drama queens in TV romances. The ones who get dream proposals and perfect endings.

I looked like a grown-up.

Like a woman.

Last time around? His laptop screensaver was a shot of Mia.

He'd stare at it like it held the secrets of the universe—chest heaving.

They said that's how a man looks at a woman.

The way he looked at me? Same way he looked at his niece when she whined for candy.

I gripped the hem of my dress. I was ready to say it—this time, I really didn't want to marry him.

Then his phone rang.

Mia's custom ringtone.

Hugh lit up, instantly pulling it out. His voice went soft, syrupy.

"Mia? You're here? Something came up on my end, but I'll fix it soon. Stay put—I'll come get you."

I just stood there, listening to his voice melt for her.

Same as before.

Even on Bowie's birthday, he'd drop everything if Mia called—freaking out over delayed flights or her luggage.

And Bowie? My kid I nearly died bringing into the world? He'd mimic Hugh's voice to a tee: "Mom, you're so useless. You mess up everything. I wish Aunt Mia were here."

Hugh hung up, didn't even wait for my answer. Just shoved the ring box into my hand and patted my head.

"Be good, Wenna. Go home with Patrick first. I'll bring you candy tonight, okay?"

Then he turned to his assistant, all business. "Patrick, take care of Wenna. Keep the press quiet—don't let anything slip about her condition."

Patrick gave a nod.

Hugh walked off.

Didn't even look back.

And around me? It was open season.

Whispers, laughs, none of it subtle.

"Told you. A diplomat proposing to a retard? Total PR stunt. Now that Mia's back in Carmoria, he's already ditching her."

"He's always been in love with his foster sister. Poor thing doesn't even get it. If she feels this bad now, wait till they're married."

I stood there, dead center of this made-for-TV proposal scene—flowers, fairy lights, all of it.

The ring box in my hand was like a brick.

Everyone was laughing.

And yeah—I was the punchline.

Patrick looked over, voice flat. "Ms. Wade, let's head back."

I shook my head. "I'll go on my own."

He blinked. Didn't expect that.

I grabbed my dress, heels digging into my already wrecked feet, and walked toward the exit.

I knew the way.

Hugh once taught me the roads, in case I got lost.

But Mia was back now.

The real lady of the house.

So no—I wasn't going back.

I walked away. One steady step at a time.

In the opposite direction.

***

I had no money. But hey—they said if you worked, you wouldn't starve.

Six hours straight, I job-hunted. Nothing. I was wiped, starving, and dehydrated when I wandered into a bar... and bam.

Hugh.

With Mia.

They were swarmed.

Mia clung to Hugh's side, giggling, eyes crinkled, totally glued to him.

And Hugh? Smiling like a goon, head tilted like she was telling him the secrets of life. That look? Straight out of some cheesy drama where the guy's obviously whipped.

I ducked back.

Too slow.

Mia's snake eyes caught mine.

She leaned in, whispered something, and boom—Hugh's whole face shifted. Storm cloud mode.

He stalked over.

"Didn't I tell Patrick to take you home?" Voice tight. Jaw tighter. "Why are you wandering around alone?"

Couldn't tell if he was mad because I was "unsafe" or because I crashed his Mia-fest.

I stared down at my blistered heels.

"I wasn't looking for you. Just passing through. I'll leave."

Turned to go.

He grabbed my wrist.

Cue the dramatic sigh as he pulled me toward the bar. "I'm right here—where else would you go? You came out 'cause I didn't come home, right? It's not safe for you to be alone. Don't do this again."

I wanted to say something. Set him straight. But he'd already decided the whole story in his head.

So I bit my lip. Said nothing. What was the point?

The bar reeked—smoke, booze, noise cranked to full blast.

Random strangers lounged on couches, laughing.

One guy clocked Hugh dragging me in. "Who's the cutie? Haven't seen her before."

Hugh's grip tightened. "She's a neighbor. Grew up with me. Bit slow—kind of a fool. Don't mind her."

I snapped my head up.

Seriously?

Wouldn't even look at me. Like saying my name might mess up his image.

So yeah, I dropped my gaze again.

Old story. Every event, every intro. You'd think I'd be numb by now.

I wasn't.

Not tonight.

Some fat guy laughed, eyes crawling all over me. "What a waste. Pretty face, empty upstairs."

Mia smirked, eyes flicking over me with disdain. Then she tugged Hugh's sleeve. "Hugh, it's our turn. Come on."

"Stay here, Wenna. I'll take you home later," Hugh said, letting go of my hand.

He sat down beside her. Their shoulders touched.

The guy leered again. "Hey, little fool, don't just stand there. Sit with me, yeah?"

I dodged his grab and slid into a far-off corner seat.

He shot me one last look, then dropped it.

Everyone else? Too busy screaming over truth or dare, throwing shots, dying of laughter.

Not one glanced my way.

I eyed the rainbow-colored drinks on the table. Grabbed one. Chugged.

Instant regret.

It burned going down, like my chest caught fire from the inside.

I doubled over, coughing.

Hugh? Oblivious.

The guy who used to hover like I'd break? Gone.

Am I shocked?

Nah.

With Mia in the room, I might as well not exist.

Thought about dipping.

But my body felt like a sandbag. Starving. Wrecked.

Maybe just sit for a sec—

Then she spoke. That sugary, fake-soft voice—

"I pick dare. Hugh, can I kiss you?"

***

Everyone went wild—cheering, laughing, whistling.

I glanced over and froze. Mia was kissing Hugh.

And him? Not even blinking. His eyes were locked on her, all soft and dreamy.

My chest tightened, and before I knew it, tears slipped down my face.

That was when it hit me—he really liked her.

I was just his guilt trip with a pulse.

Not this time.

I wasn't wasting another fifteen years being dead weight.

Starting now, I'd let him go. Let them have each other.

My stomach twisted hard. The booze came roaring back up, burning my throat. I shot up and staggered into the bathroom, gripping the cold sink as I dry heaved, shaking.

The door creaked.

Entered Mia—mask off, smirk on.

"Wenna Wade," she drawled, "how long you planning to haunt Hugh like some sad little ghost?"

I blinked at her, eyes swimming. Couldn't even get a word out.

"Hugh's a rising star. Diplomat. Future glowing and all that. He needs someone polished, someone like me—who knows how to work a room and not embarrass him."

Her eyes narrowed. "You? You're a walking disaster. What do you even bring to the table?"

She leaned in, voice dropping.

"And FYI, his parents can't stand you either. They've already okayed me—his foster sister, by the way. So do us all a favor: walk out before this gets ugly."

My face went cold.

Last time around, I thought it was just Hugh and Bowie who hated me.

Guess I'd missed the family fan club.

Mia caught my freeze and laughed. "Oops, forgot—you're a retard. Did you even GET what I said?"

The words cut deep. I shoved her back, ready to leave, but she grabbed my wrist.

"Where do you think you're going, genius? Off to snitch? Don't bother—he's mine. You're out, whether you like it or not."

Then, out of nowhere, she snatched a bottle, smashed it against her own head, and crumpled.

Blood trickled down her face.

I just froze.

She peeked up, grinning through the fake pain, then screamed, "Hugh! Help! Wenna tried to kill me!"

He burst in, eyes wide. One look at the blood and his face went dark.

"What happened?"

He scooped her up, all hero mode.

Mia trembled against him. "You said Wenna wasn't feeling well, so I came to check on her. I told her she could go home if she was sick—and she smashed a bottle over my head!"

I shook my head so fast it hurt. "No! She did it herself!"

He didn't even blink. Just stared at me like I'd kicked his puppy.

"Wenna, really? Every time there's another girl near me, you lose it. Are you having another episode?"

That tone—cold, disgusted—hurt worse than any slap.

Just like that, I was back in middle school—

Hugh crushing on the class beauty.

The same girl who bet she could get him to fall for her, just to mess with another guy.

I was terrified she'd wreck him.

So yeah... I brought a knife. Thought I could scare her off.