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Darren stood rooted to the porch, his mind desperately trying to process what the hell was happening.

Three won. Three different faces. Three entirely different problems.

All at the sa ti?

God of coincidence and fate? Why punish like this?

Sandy had her hands on her hips like a teacher catching a student red-handed, except her face held more emotion than what was normal between teachers and students.

She seed genuinely hurt.

Alia, poised and cold like so sort of assassin, stood by the car and waited. Her expression was gentle, her face was constantly studying him.

Clearly she thought more than she spoke.

And then there was Lily, dressed down in a hoodie and sneakers with her favorite color of pink, staring at him with quiet desperation.

No matter how despondent she looked, and how much those pretty eyes of hers begged, Darren couldn't bring himself to care.

In fact, it even made his stomach twist because he already knew what she wanted to talk about.

Her father.

Yeah, no. That was off the table.

He cleared his throat. "Okay. One at a ti."

Sandy scoffed painfully, still in disbelief. "You say that like we scheduled appointnts with you, Darren. What is happening here? This woman... why does she seem familiar?"

She was referring to Alia.

"I can arrange an appointnt if that would make it easier," Alia said smoothly, her eyes never leaving him. "You can visit Moon Wealth Managent Offices at your convenience, Mr. Steele. Though, I suspect you already know why we're interested in speaking with you."

His brow furrowed slightly. The way she said that— "suspect" —sent alarm bells ringing in his head. Did they know?

If it was Rico that had told them, then it should be only based on speculation. They had no real proof that he was FuglyDuckling.

But wasn't it best to make sure of it now?

He saw Lily take a step forward, her hands buried deep in her hoodie pockets. "Darren, please. Just five minutes. That's all I ask."

His jaw clenched. He didn't find the prospect of speaking with Lily interesting in any way.

He was going to take her father down whether she liked it or not. That was not a conversation he wanted to have, not now, not ever.

But what was more important? Healing his relationship with Sandy? Or finding out what MWMO knows with Alia?

The pressure was suffocating.

Darren exhaled sharply. "Listen, I would love — love — to handle all three of you right now." He saw Sandy raise a skeptical brow, and Lily's eyes narrowed. Alia had a blush of surprise on her cheeks.

"That ca out wrong. I ant — I'd love to — ugh, never mind."

No one was buying it.

He needed an exit strategy. Fast.

"I, uh... I just rembered sothing incredibly important!" He snapped his fingers like a man who had just solved a puzzle. "A eting. A crucial one. Very urgent. Can't miss it."

Sandy frowned, disappointnt in her voice. "A eting? Darren? It's already evening."

Alia tilted her head, unreadable. "With whom?"

Darren's eyes darted around as his brain flailed for an answer. "Uh… the President."

There was a beat of silence.

"The President of what?"

Lily sighed. "Darren, please."

"No ti!" He clapped his hands together. "So sorry, ladies, but this is my cue to leave."

And before any of them could protest, he whirled around, yanked open his car door, and dove inside like he was escaping a hostage situation.

He slamd the door shut and locked it, throwing one last look at the trio through the windshield.

They were staring.

Sandy's gaze was a painting of shock and heartbreak. Alia just raised a perfectly shaped brow, the amusent flickering in her eyes making it clear that she knew he was running away. And Lily, she just looked hurt.

Darren exhaled. That was not his problem.

He hit the gas.

As the car pulled away, he let out a long breath, gripping the wheel. "Jesus Christ."

He was not built for that level of social confrontation. A room of n, he could handle, but not three won.

'Hold on. That ca out wrong.' He facepald. 'Gosh. What is wrong with today?'

--

Once he got to a fair distance, Darren began to find his way to Greenbaby. But as he drove, his thoughts kept drifting to Sandy.

He swallowed.

He'd been a real ass to her, hadn't he?

His fingers tapped the steering wheel. A mory slowly resurfaced in his mind.

Darren rembered back when he was an intern at Smithers Group. Back then, the office coffee tasted like hope and the future. When he was filled with ambition, and the only thing he suffered was the ridicule of people who believed him to be too young for the position he claid.

Sandy was the Secretary of Finance. Smart, kind-hearted, but terrifyingly efficient.

Even when everyone had been particularly unkind to him, she'd been good to him.

Darren rembered one particular evening, back when he had been drowning under a mountain of paperwork, scrambling to finish a report that Smithers had dumped on him last minute. He had been exhausted, running purely on caffeine and the fear of losing his internship.

Then, Sandy had walked by. She had paused, looking over his shoulder, and instead of barking at him like others did, she had actually gone to the office kitchen and made him a warm al.

A beef sandwich and milk.

"Eat," she had said flatly.

Darren had blinked up at her. "I—"

"No argunts." Her eyes softened. "You look like you're about to collapse."

Darren had stared at the sandwich. Then he had looked up at her again.

And he had ate.

That mont had stuck with him.

And now, here he was. Running from her like a coward.

Darren exhaled. "What am I even doing," he muttered, pulling out his phone. He dialed her number, his foot easing off the gas as the line rang.

After a few rings, she picked up.

"Darren," she spoke gently.

He winced, feeling ashad of himself. "Can we never talk about that? I just had to get out of there."

She didn't say anything.

"Sandy?" he called.

"Okay," she replied.

He let out a sigh of relief. "Can we et? At our usual place?"

There was a pause.

Then, with a softer voice, she said, "Okay."

The call ended.

Darren took a deep breath and switched lanes, heading to Castle Cottage.

Minutes later, he finally pulled up in the outdoor restaurant, the familiar glow of lanterns and fairy lights beautified the place in its golden warmth.

Darren stepped out of his car, glancing around.

It didn't take long to find her.

Sandy stood near one of the tables, arms crossed, watching him with a mix of hesitation and exasperation.

The fairy lights above glowed on her face, highlighting the features of his only true friend from the Smithers Group.

Darren sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walked towards her.

"Well," she said, tightening her lips. "Here I am."

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