Isabella walked with style and elegance, with a glass of champagne in her hand, taking few sips eye glancing back and forth.
Then she saw Ethan Caldwell, old money. Clean smile, Safe.
When Ethan asked her to dance, she said yes.
Rafe watched from across the room.
Watched Ethan's hand settle at her waist.
Watched her laugh.
Something snapped.
"Rafe?" Lena said, frowning. "You're hurting my hand."
He hadn't realized he was gripping it.
Rafe excused himself and crossed the room, eyes dark, steps sharp.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked Isabella, voice tight.
Ethan blinked. "Everything okay?"
Isabella met Rafe's gaze, pulse racing. "Yes."
Rafe smiled but it was all teeth. " All Good."
He stepped closer. Too close.
Her breath hitched.
"This isn't the place," she murmured.
His voice dropped. "You shouldn't let him touch you."
Ethan clearly annoyed by the interruption. "Excuse me?"
Isabella stepped back. "Rafe, stop."
Lena appeared, confusion blooming into suspicion. "What's going on?"
Rafe straightened, restraint slamming back into place. "Nothing."
Let's go get some drinks, he left taking Lena with him.
But his eyes never left Isabella.
Later, in the quiet corridor outside the ballroom, Isabella felt a presence behind her.
Rafe.
"I meant what I said," he murmured. "About someone else touching you."
She turned, heart pounding. "why do you care?"
He leaned in close enough that their noses almost brushed. Close enough to taste the truth.
For one terrible second, she thought he would kiss her.
Instead, he stopped and pulled back.
"This is as close as we're allowed to get," he said.
And walked away.
Isabella stood there, heart beating faster.
Lena watched from the end of the hall, eyes narrowed.
The almost-kiss lingered like a bruise.
And the lie was starting to crack.
Isabella felt Lena's gaze before she heard her voice.
"Bella."
The gala music softened behind them as Lena stepped closer, heels clicking against marble floors.
The crowd shifted, laughter and clinking glasses fading into a distant hum. Lena's smile was still there but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Can we talk?" Lena asked.
Isabella's stomach tightened. "Of course."
They moved toward the terrace, the city lights spilling in through tall glass doors. Cool night air brushed Isabella's bare shoulders, a sharp contrast to the heat curling in her chest.
Lena leaned against the railing, arms folded. "You've been acting strange."
Isabella met her gaze calmly. "I... What do you mean?
"With Rafe," Lena said.
The words landed softly but they cut.
Isabella kept her expression smooth. "We're partners for a class project."
"That's what you said yesterday," Lena replied. "And the day before."
Isabella's pulse quickened. "Is there a problem?"
Lena hesitated. "It's just… he's different lately."
Isabella said nothing.
"He leaves without explaining. He watches you when he thinks no one notices." Lena's voice wavered, just slightly. "And today when you walked in he forgot where he was."
"That's not my fault," Isabella said quietly.
"I know," Lena said. "That's what scares me."
The city lights reflected in Lena's eyes, making them look glassy. Vulnerable.
"Did something happen between you and Rafe?" she asked.
The question Isabella had been dreading.
Her heart slammed, but her voice stayed steady. "No."
Lena searched her face, desperate for reassurance. "You'd never hurt me, right?. You're my best friend."
Guilt twisted sharp and deep.
"I would never hurt you," Isabella said and meant it, even as the lie burned her tongue.
Lena nodded slowly, though doubt lingered. "Okay."
They stood in silence, the unspoken stretching thin.
Then Lena exhaled. "I just needed to ask. I don't want to lose either of you."
Isabella reached out, squeezing her hand. "You won't."
Across the room, Rafe watched from the shadows.
He saw Lena's posture stiffen. Saw Isabella's chin lift, her composure flawless as ever. Whatever was being said—it mattered.
Jax leaned beside him. "You look like you're about to commit a felony."
Rafe didn't smile. "She shouldn't be crying."
"She's not," Jax said.
Rafe's jaw tightened.
"She will be."
Because lies had weight.
And they always fell on the wrong people.
Later, in the quiet hallway outside the ballroom, Isabella felt a presence behind her.
"You okay?" Rafe asked softly.
She didn't turn. "She asked."
His breath hitched. "And?"
"I lied."
He closed his eyes briefly. "I'm sorry."
"For what, she asked surprised?"
"For putting you in this position." His voice was low raw. "For not ending this before it started."
She finally faced him. "It didn't start."
They both knew that wasn't true.
Rafe stepped back, restraint snapping into place like armor. "I'll fix it."
Fear flickered. "How?"
He met her gaze, something resolute and dangerous settling in his eyes. "By doing, what's right."
The words hurt more than they should have.
He left before she could stop him.
Isabella stood alone, the city stretching endlessly below.
Behind her, Lena watched the space where Rafe had been then turned to Isabella, suspicion sharpening once more.
The question had been asked, the answer hadn't convinced anyone.