On my seventh day in Snowcall, one of my friends, Lucas Freeman, called me out of the blue.

"Miranda, when are you coming back?"

"I'm not planning to anytime soon," I replied.

"Norton's birthday is next week. You're not going to come celebrate?"

"I'll pass, but I'll send something."

The conversation went quiet, and I could hear Lucas awkwardly passing the phone to someone else. "Maybe you should try talking to Miranda. She usually listens to you," he said.

Caesar's cold voice came through the speaker. "I don't give a damn whether she comes back or not. Honestly, it'd be better if she stayed away permanently."

I heard our mutual friends trying to intervene. "Come on, Miranda's obviously really hurt this time. She took off her ring and everything.

"You've been pretty brutal with this whole new girlfriend thing. You really humiliated her."

The sound of glass shattering cut through their voices as Caesar threw his drink. "We're done, okay? What the hell else do you people want from me? Nobody contact her! Let's see how long she wants to drag this out!"

While everyone scrambled to defend me, Caesar was apparently having a complete meltdown and blocked my number right there in front of them all.

"She better fucking not come crawling back here in tears! I'm never taking her back like I used to!"

I heard a door slam as he stormed out. The whole thing had been on speaker, so I'd caught everything.

Having Elvis around for comparison was really putting things in perspective. Caesar sounded like a tantruming teenager.

"I'll send Norton's birthday present. And please don't call me when Caesar's around anymore," I said.

They were still trying to persuade me to make peace with him when I ended the call.

"Sweetie, what do you want for dinner? I'll come pick you up."

Before I could even process the hurt from that phone call, Elvis's text appeared and smoothed away all my frustration.

In all these years, Caesar had never once called me anything like "sweetie". He thought pet names were cheesy.

Elvis arrived quickly, like he'd been waiting downstairs the whole time. He asked, "Have you decided what you want to eat?"

He was so gentlemanly, reaching over to buckle my seatbelt for me. I shook my head.

"How about seafood boil then?" he suggested.

I looked at Elvis in surprise. "I can't believe you even know what that is. I figured you only ate whatever your nutritionist put in front of you."

Elvis raised an eyebrow. "Well, I didn't originally. But I remember you mentioning back in our Farbourne University prep program that you really loved it."

I was amazed that Elvis remembered something I'd said so casually years ago. Caesar never would have joined me for messy food like this.

He thought eating with your hands and getting sauce everywhere was undignified. He didn't want to get his hands dirty. I'd given up foods I actually enjoyed to accommodate Caesar.

I watched as Elvis clumsily peeled shrimp while trying not to get sauce on his fingers, and it made me burst out laughing.

For a moment, he seemed completely mesmerized. Then, his expression shifted to something I couldn't quite read.

"Miranda, are you full?" he asked.

"Pretty much. Why?"

After Elvis paid the bill, he drove me back to the hotel. It wasn't until after my shower, when Elvis pulled me close on the bed, that I realized he'd gotten aroused watching me laugh at dinner.

Before I could think about it more, we were already lost in each other.

"Oh! Elvis..."

I was quickly swept into waves of pleasure, my voice soft as I called out his name. The sound didn't come out angry at all—it was more like satisfied contentment.

The slightly rough movements contrasted sharply with Elvis's usual gentlemanly demeanor, though he was still attentive to how I was responding. "Miranda, do you like this?"

I shook my head, avoiding the question. Elvis chuckled softly as he trailed a series of tender kisses across my cheeks, neck, and chest.

His touches were driving me to the edge, and tears of pure sensation leaked from the corners of my eyes. "Mmm, Elvis, yes… it feels amazing…"

Elvis's breathing grew ragged, and his muscles tensed as things intensified between us.

I was being consumed by desire, and just as my consciousness was starting to slip away, Elvis whispered something in my ear.

"Miranda, if you like this, promise you'll never leave me, okay?"

On Norton's birthday, the gift I'd bought in Snowcall arrived right on schedule.

Elvis and I had picked it out together. They were cufflinks from a luxury brand Norton particularly liked.

Norton was thrilled with the present, but Caesar's expression darkened the moment he saw the cufflinks. He knocked over his drink, and the bottle shattered on the floor.

When he saw those cufflinks, Caesar had a gut feeling that there was someone else in my life now. Still, he remained confident that I belonged to him and was just throwing a tantrum.

Glass scattered everywhere, and a shard sliced Caesar's arm, leaving a bloody gash. The private room erupted into chaos.

"What just happened? Why did Caesar suddenly lose it?"

"You're bleeding pretty badly. We should get you to a hospital."

But Caesar refused to go. His face was twisted with rage as he sneered. "Some other guy picked out this gift. She would never buy anything from this brand on her own."

There was an anger in Caesar's tone that even he didn't seem to recognize.

Norton quickly tried to reassure him. "That can't be right. Miranda's in Snowcall, isn't she? She probably just grabbed something random.

"It's not like when she shops for your birthday, where she usually starts planning months ahead."

Their friends chimed in to support him. "Exactly. We all know how much Miranda cares about you. To her, all of us combined don't matter as much as you do."

Caesar let out a cold laugh. "Cares about me? Does this look like someone who cares? I unblocked her number ages ago, and she hasn't called me once!"

"Miranda's still a woman after all. Why don't you call her yourself and smooth things over?"

Caesar's expression remained stone-cold. Upon seeing this, Norton took a photo of Caesar's injured arm and sent it to me. Caesar's expression finally softened slightly when my call came through.

I asked anxiously, "Norton, are you hurt?"

I had no idea Norton had put me on speaker. "It's not me—it's Caesar's hand. He accidentally cut himself just now, and the bleeding won't stop.

"Maybe you should call him to check on him? Or just come back and see him yourself?"

Norton continued in this manner for a while, but I remained silent.

"Miranda, are you listening? You should really come back. Caesar won't listen to anyone, and he's bleeding but refuses to go to the hospital."

I let out a soft sigh before speaking gently. "Norton, there's no need to tell me about Caesar's problems anymore."

Norton's voice immediately turned panicked. "Miranda…"

Everyone heard the sound of me hanging up, and the private room fell completely silent after that.

Caesar laughed bitterly. "So this is what you all meant when you said she cared about me?"

Finally, Lucas spoke up. "Caesar, what you did before was pretty hurtful… Miranda's a woman, and even if you don't love her anymore, you shouldn't have brought another woman to break up with her in front of everyone like that.

"Nobody would forgive you easily for something like that."

Caesar's laugh was mocking. "She's been with me for eight years. Even a dog would be loyal after that long! Why wouldn't she forgive me?"

Our friends fell silent until someone spoke up quietly. "But Miranda only gets so many years in her life. She's your stepsister. She endured all that pressure to have a forbidden relationship with you.

"Caesar, have you considered that Miranda might never come back?"

Caesar angrily cut him off, his voice carrying a barely detectable tremor. "That's impossible! She can't live without me!"

He was determined to find out who was taking me away from him.