Luke's POV

That faint smirk on Oliver's lips carried the smug satisfaction of a scheme that had worked, mixed with open contempt for the position he had forced me into.

It was fleeting, but I saw it clearly.

The sting from Shannon's slap still burned across my cheek, but the pain wasn't only on the surface. It had sunk into my chest, seared straight into my heart, and burned away the last trace of warmth I had left.

I said coldly, "I won't apologize."

"Fine. That's your choice," Shannon snapped back. "Then this engagement is off. Take some time to calm down. Think it through. Come find me when you're ready to be rational."

With that, she turned and walked out of the event hall, supporting Oliver without a backward glance.

He leaned against her, pretending to be weak. But right as they turned, he cocked his head and gave me a playful eyebrow raise.

The hall was dead silent. Every guest stared at me, their eyes sharp and prying, like tiny needles pressing into my skin.

I turned to face them, keeping my expression unreadable.

"Everyone," I said evenly, "I'm truly sorry. There's been an unexpected incident, and the engagement party can't continue. I apologize for the poor hospitality and hope you'll understand."

When the hall finally cleared, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

The caller ID lit up:

[Bernard Hoffman]

Shannon's father.

Quickly, I answered the call.

On the other end, he spoke in a low, furious voice, his anger barely restrained.

"Luke! What the hell is going on? I entrusted my daughter to you, and this is how you treat her? I couldn't make it today, and you turned the engagement party into a disaster?"

I replied calmly, "Uncle, at the party, Oliver presented me with a surrogacy contract. He demanded I sign it, claiming Shannon promised him years ago that she would have a child with him."

The line went silent.

Only his heavy breathing told me he hadn't hung up.

Several seconds passed before Bernard's voice returned. His tone had shifted, forceful now, almost like he was bluffing his way through.

"That's what this is about? Oliver is Shannon's sworn brother. They grew up together. They're extremely close. We all know what he's like. He's just an immature kid. It was clearly a joke. A little test to see if your feelings for her are genuine. You really had to blow it out of proportion? Can't you be a little more tolerant?"

The words came quickly, like he had rehearsed them, but the faint tremor at the end of his sentences betrayed him.

As Bernard spoke, I could almost envision him: his brows furrowed together and his eyes shifting anxiously. He was likely rubbing the bridge of his nose, just as he always did when he felt cornered.

"A test?" I repeated, my tone flat.

It was impossible to tell if it was a question or a statement.

That word must have struck a nerve, because his voice rose sharply.

"What else could it be? You think he'd seriously try to cuckold you? If he really meant it, would he say it in front of everyone? You're overthinking this! Shannon was right—you're just too uptight! Now go apologize to her and to Oliver! Clear this up! Or else, I—"

I cut him off by hanging up. I'd heard enough.

Later that night, Shannon called me.

"Luke, have you thought things through?"

Her voice carried no guilt and hesitation, just the same entitled certainty she always spoke with.

I nodded to myself. "Yeah. I've thought it through."

She seemed relieved. Her tone brightened, almost cheerful. "Good. Then come pick me up. We can—"

I cut her off. "The marriage is off."

The line went silent.

A few seconds later, Shannon's voice shot up, sharp and furious. "Fine! Luke, you've got guts! Just don't come crawling back!"

Luke's POV

Shannon hung up on me so hard it felt like the call ended with a slap to the face.

An hour later, my phone lit up again.

It was a message from Wendy, Shannon's closest friend. Just one line. But it landed like an ice pick in my chest.

[Because of you, Shannon got drunk and slit her wrists. She's in emergency care at Central City Hospital. The doctor says she might not make it through the night.]

For a moment, my heart clenched so tight it almost stopped.

Five years. Not five days.

All the laughs, the tears, the fights, the making up. All those nights building something I thought was real. None of it had been fake.

My head told me this could be a setup. Shannon and Oliver had never been shy about pulling stunts.

But what if it wasn't?

What if, for once, it was real?

I couldn't roll the dice on her life.

With that, I fired back a reply instantly:

[On my way.]

Then I grabbed my keys, stormed out the door, and drove like a man possessed, blowing through every red light between me and the hospital.

...

When I reached the ICU hallway, the first thing I heard wasn't crying or chaos.

It was laughter drifting through the door.

I froze mid-step.

I saw Shannon propped up in bed through the little glass window, her wrist swaddled in thick gauze. A relaxed smile curved her lips like nothing had happened.

Wendy sat beside her, peeling an apple with a smug, slight head tilt.

"Told you," Wendy said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I said Luke would show up. I win. Dinner's on you tonight."

She glanced at Shannon's face. "You sure you're okay? You look a little pale."

Shannon gave a dry little laugh and lifted her bandaged wrist like it was a prop.

"Of course I'm fine. I couldn't actually hurt myself. Barely scratched the skin and didn't even bleed much. It was just for show to scare that idiot."

She chuckled again. "And look, it worked like a charm, didn't it? Luke came running. God, he is still a sucker after five years. Call him and he shows up right away."

Wendy winked. "So, what's the plan when he walks in? Make him beg for forgiveness?"

"What else?" Shannon smirked. "If I don't put him through hell, how will he ever learn he's nothing without me? He'll be begging me to take him back. Just watch."

Her voice dripped with contempt, like she was talking about something beneath her—an insect, a stain, a pawn she could move at will.

Wendy laughed, then leaned closer, her tone turning playful and suggestive. "But seriously, what if Oliver wasn't joking about that baby agreement? What if he really wants a kid? You gonna give him one?"

The room went still.

Shannon didn't answer right away.

Then, she let out a quiet and casual laugh.

But to me, standing outside that door, it felt like a blade dipped in ice cutting straight through the last warm corner of my chest.

Her silence told me everything I needed to know.

I stood under the harsh hospital lights, feeling the chill press down on me like a weight.

So this was it.

Five years of patience, compromise, and loyalty hadn't earned me respect. It had earned me one word: bootlicker.

She had actually entertained that absurd surrogacy contract with her so-called 'sworn brother'. Not because it made sense, but because it was Oliver.

Everything I thought was love. Everything I thought was special between us.

To her, it had been a game. A bet. A joke to share with her friend.

With that realization, the last bit of doubt in my heart, which had been clinging to the five years of memories we shared, vanished in that hallway.

So, I didn't push open the door. I didn't confront her. I didn't even let her know I had been there.

I just turned and walked away.

My footsteps echoed steadily and hollowly down the empty hall.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed my father, who was in Switzerland.

"Dad," I said, my voice calm. "Call off the marriage alliance with the Hoffmans."

He went silent for a beat and answered, "Understood. Do what you need to do."

I stood there in the cavernous hospital lobby, my head lowered, fingers moving across the cold glass of my screen.

I issued one order after another, sending them straight to Carnegie Group's core management and legal team:

"Terminate every ongoing project with the Hoffman Group immediately."

"Freeze all financial transactions."

"Effective today, Carnegie Group severs every business tie with the Hoffmans."