Growing up with Cassandra ant getting used to her lies. I’d lost count of the tis she’d twisted a situation to her favour, how she’d cry until people bent over backwards to soothe her.
Once, she’d even ruined her own dolls, ripped their heads clean off, only to run to our mother sobbing that I had done it. And of course, Mother had given her mine "to calm her down."
But this wasn’t about dolls anymore. And we weren’t children.
"Cass," I said, keeping my voice calm even as her wails filled the ballroom. "Stop making a scene. Rember, you’re pregnant."
Gasps whispered through the crowd as Daniel finally appeared, rushing through onlookers like so knight in shining armour. He crouched at her side, helping her up with a flourish of protective arms.
"What happened?!" His voice bood, eyes snapping to like fire.
"She pushed ," Cassandra whimpered, leaning into him. "I was only trying to talk to her..."
Daniel’s eyes flared with anger. "Layla. How could you? Why do you hate your sister so much?"
I nearly laughed at that mont. It was so ironic. He was standing right there, a living proof of her betrayal, and he was asking why I hated her.
"You’re unbelievable," I said in disbelief, shaking my head.
"No, you’re unbelievable!" Daniel barked at . "She’s carrying my child, and you try to harm her in public?"
"Oh, for heaven’s sake, Daniel, I didn’t touch her." I rolled my eyes so hard. This ga was beginning to get old and annoying.
His jaw clenched. "You expect to believe..."
"Look around you, idiot," I raised my voice at him. "I was standing here and she slipped there." I gestured to the floor, still wet with spilled wine.
"If I’d pushed her, she’d have fallen in the opposite direction, which is that way. Everyone here saw exactly where she slipped."
Public opinion had changed. It was nice to know that not everybody in this hall was stupid. An elderly man cleared his throat. "It did look like she slipped..."
But of course, Cassandra’s tears poured faster. "No! She’s lying!"
I tilted my head, pretending to be concerned, which was one of Cassandra’s nurous tricks. "Cass has always been clumsy. Perhaps, Daniel, you shouldn’t have left her alone in her condition."
The flush of rage on Cass’s face was almost worth it.
"You liar!" she screeched, clutching Daniel’s arm. "She’s lying!"
But the tide had shifted. People were whispering now, exchanging knowing looks. The facts were plain, and Cassandra’s theatrics weren’t landing the way she hoped.
"She’s right," soone else spoke up. "I saw her heel slip."
Daniel refused to yield. "You expect to ignore my wife’s words for strangers’? Layla, apologise to her."
"What?" my expression darkened. "No. Why should I? If you still don’t believe , you can check the caras."
At the ntion of caras, a look of panic appeared on Cassandra’s face. The idiot probably hadn’t thought of that.
She beca coy at once, tugging at Daniel’s shirt. "Daniel, I think it’s a misunderstanding and we should all let it go."
But Daniel, the narcissistic prick was already far gone in his role. He thundered, "You should apologize because that’s the least you should do as her older sister. Moreover, I can still sense the jealousy from you. You still haven’t moved on from , and now you’re taking it out on her. Admit it!"
I let out a bitter laugh. "Jealous? Of being lied to, cheated on, betrayed? Please, spare the nonsense. And I refuse to apologise for sothing I didn’t do."
Daniel’s face darkened. "You will apologise —"
"How dare you raise your voice on my wife?"
Axel’s voice sliced through the air like a blade.
He appeared out of nowhere, standing tall and broad-shouldered in his well-fitted suit. His eyes were ice-cold, and were locked onto Daniel with a warning that could break glass.
Daniel froze instantly. It was almost pathetic how n like him easily bare their teeth when lording over won, only to be stripped of their own courage the instant they were forced to face another man.
He swallowed hard, trying to muster bravado, but it crumbled. "I... I was only..."
Axel was a giant of a man and he stepped closer, towering over him.
"Address my wife like that again, and by morning you’ll be signing your bankruptcy papers. Trust , I don’t make empty threats, I make realities."
The venom in his tone was enough to send Daniel retreating, his arm looping protectively around Cassandra instead.
She wasn’t crying now. She was fearful now, her face twisted in silent fury.
The crowd, realising the drama had ended, started to break up. People quietly resud their conversations, stealing glances at us from ti to ti.
As Daniel guided Cass away, she leaned just enough to hiss, "Watch your back."
I straightened my spine with my chin high, and didn’t respond. I was not on the sa level with her.
When they were gone, I turned and found Axel watching . His expression was unreadable, but his eyes looked almost impressed.
"You were going to let drown in that circus," I accused him.
He tilted his head. "You didn’t need saving, not until the last minute."
"You were watching the whole ti?"
His lips twitched. "I don’t make a habit of looking away when my wife is putting people in their place."
It was strange, but the way he said "my wife" with that unmistakable pride, sent a warm rush through my stomach. I liked him best when he was like this.
"I handled it," I said, more to myself than to him, still trying to let the reality sink in. For once, I was standing on my own and pushing back against my toxic family.
"Yes," he admitted it, his eyes on . "You did."
For a brief mont, the atmosphere between us felt intense, and none of us said anything. Then he cleared his throat, adjusting his cufflink. "It’s ti to leave."
The ride back was silent, the city lights flashing past the tinted windows. When we reached the mansion, Axel said nothing more and went his way.
I went straight upstairs, stripped out of my gown, and pulled on an oversized tee. I scrubbed the mask of powder and paint from my face, bathed, and slid into bed.
But sleep refused to co. After tossing and turning for what felt like the hundredth ti, it dawned on that sleep wasn’t mine to claim tonight.
Slipping out of bed, I padded barefoot downstairs. The kitchen was dim, lit only by the under-glow of the marble counters.
And there he was.
Axel leaned against the island, a tumbler of whiskey in hand. His tie was gone, shirt half unbuttoned, and his sleeves rolled high. The hard lines of his forearms flexed as he swirled the amber liquid.
I froze in the doorway.
His head turned slightly, as if he’d sensed already.
"Go ahead." His voice was low, roughened by drink.
"I was just..."
"Eat," he said, nodding at the fridge. "You won’t sleep if you don’t."
The atmosphere was tense as I opened the fridge and took out so leftover pastries and a carton of milk. I placed them on the counter, trying not to notice the way his eyes followed .
He moved then, brushing past to set his empty glass in the sink. The faint scent of whiskey and cologne clung to him, strangely dizzying in the quiet space.
I cleared my throat. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For letting handle it," I said, "For not swooping in until the end."
He looked at for a long beat. Then, simply shrugged, "You handled it well."
The silence fell again, heavier this ti.
Except that was when I beca painfully aware of how dishevelled he looked, yet maddeningly handso. Of the warmth of his body as he’d brushed past. The faint sll of alcohol on his breath, and of the fact that beneath this oversized tee, I wore nothing else.
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