VIVI'S POV
The champagne glass almost slips from my hand when I see them.
My fiancé Julian has my stepsister Gianna pressed against the wall in the dark hallway. His hands are in her hair. Her arms wrap around his neck. They're kissing like the world is ending.
Like I don't exist.
My heart stops. Then it starts beating so fast I think I might throw up.
I should scream. I should throw this expensive champagne in both their faces. I should make them see me standing here, ten feet away, wearing the engagement ring Julian gave me three months ago.
But I don't move. I just stand there like an idiot, watching my entire future burn to ashes.
"Julian," Gianna whispers against his mouth. Her voice is breathy and excited. "What if someone sees us?"
"Let them," he says, and kisses her deeper.
That's when I know. This isn't new. This isn't a mistake. They've done this before. Maybe for weeks. Maybe for months. While I was planning our wedding. While I was picking out flowers and cake flavors like a fool.
A waiter walks past me carrying a tray of appetizers. He doesn't notice me either. Nobody ever notices me. That's always been my problem. I'm the quiet one. The overlooked daughter. The girl who fades into the background while everyone watches Gianna shine.
Even now, at my own engagement party, I'm invisible.
I think about every time Gianna took something from me. When we were twelve, she stole my diary and read it to her friends. At fifteen, she told everyone my biggest secret just to get attention. At nineteen, she convinced my father to give her the internship I earned. She's been doing this my whole life—taking what's mine and making it hers.
But this? This is different. This is Julian. My future. My escape from this family that never wanted me.
Or maybe that's the point. Maybe she doesn't even want him. Maybe she just can't stand seeing me have something she doesn't.
"We should go back," Gianna says, fixing her lipstick. "People will wonder where we are."
"Five more minutes," Julian begs. "Your stepsister won't even notice we're gone. She never notices anything."
The words hit me like a slap.
He's right, though. I don't notice things. I don't see what's right in front of me. I thought Julian loved me. I thought we were building something real. But I was just convenient. My last name is Laurent. My father owns a tech company. Julian wanted the business connections, not me.
I'm so stupid.
I turn around slowly, carefully, so my heels don't make noise on the marble floor. I walk back down the hallway toward the ballroom. Music floats through the air. People laugh and talk. In twenty minutes, Julian and I are supposed to walk through those doors together. Everyone will clap. My father will make a speech. We'll cut a cake and dance and pretend we're in love.
But I can't do it. I can't stand there and smile while my heart is breaking into a million pieces.
I walk faster. Past the ballroom entrance. Past the coat check. Out the front doors into the cold January night.
The doorman looks surprised. "Miss Laurent? Do you need a car?"
"No," I manage to say. "I just need air."
I walk down the steps in my fancy dress and expensive shoes. The freezing wind cuts through me, but I don't care. I keep walking. Away from the hotel. Away from Julian and Gianna and the party where everyone's waiting for me.
My phone buzzes in my purse. Then again. And again. I don't look at it. I know who it is. My father, wondering where I am. Celeste, my stepmother, probably angry that I'm embarrassing the family. Maybe even Julian, realizing his bride is missing.
Let them wonder. Let them wait. Let them worry for once.
I walk three blocks before I finally stop. My feet hurt. My face is numb from the cold. I lean against a building and close my eyes, trying to breathe.
That's when I feel it. The weird sensation of being watched.
I open my eyes and look around. The street is mostly empty. A few cars drive past. A couple walks by holding hands, not looking at me.
But across the street, standing under a streetlight, there's a man.
He's tall. Dark suit. Hands in his pockets. And he's staring directly at me.
My breath catches. Even from this distance, I can see his face is hard and cold. Handsome, but in a scary way. Like carved stone. His eyes don't blink. Don't look away.
He knows who I am. I don't know how I know this, but I do.
A taxi drives between us. When it passes, I expect him to be gone. But he's still there. Still watching.
Then he does something that makes my blood turn to ice.
He smiles. Not a friendly smile. A smile that says he knows exactly what just happened to me in that hotel. A smile that says he's been waiting for this moment.
He pulls something from his pocket. Even from here, I can see it's a phone. He types something, then looks back at me.
My phone buzzes.
My hands shake as I pull it out. There's a text from an unknown number:
"Your fiancé just destroyed you. Would you like to destroy him back? -D.C."
I look up sharply. The man is gone. The streetlight shines on empty sidewalk.
But his message burns in my hand like fire.
Who is D.C.? How does he know what happened? How did he get my number?
An
d why do I want to text him back and say yes?