Eleanor’s POV
Their eyes held frozen, all pinning in place with an intensity that made hold my breath. For a heartbeat i thought that sothing monuntal was about to happen.
Then they walked past .
The intoxicating scent vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving standing there like a fool.
My head turned instinctively, watching their retreating backs, he effortless grace of their strides, as if they carried the weight of sothing far greater than re corporate power.
Where had that scent co from?
The elevator? Them?
I didn’t know.
**
By the ti I returned to the event hall, the ceremony was in full swing. The crowd buzzed with energy, their attention fixed on the stage where so executive droned on about Vexxon’s latest achievents.
Mira glanced up as I slipped back into my seat, imdiately squeezing my hand. "You okay?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
She didn’t push, bless her, just kept her grip firm, a silent anchor in the storm.
Ti blurred. Speeches ended. The event wound down into the post-ceremony mingling, where people pretended they weren’t exhausted just to network for five more minutes.
Mira got pulled into a conversation with so colleagues, leaving to my thoughts. I couldn’t bring myself to join in.
I stood, deciding I’d had enough. I just wanted to go ho.
As I moved through the thinning crowd, snippets of conversation floated past:
"Did you see the CEOs? Gods, they’re unreal."
"Like they stepped out of a painting."
"I heard they’re not... ordinary n."
"What does that even an?"
"You know. Different."
I paused.
Not normal.
Two days ago, I would’ve dismissed it as gossip. But after surviving a car crash without a scratch? After feeling that strange heat in my veins when I should’ve been broken?
Maybe "not normal" wasn’t so far-fetched.
"Leaving so soon?"
Priscilla’s sugary voice slithered into my ears. She materialized in front of , blocking my path with that practiced sickly-sweet smile. Before I could react, her fingers clamped around my wrist.
"Co on," she chirped, dragging toward the buffet line. "You haven’t eaten all night."
I yanked my arm back. "Let go."
Her nails dug in harder. "Why? Don’t you want to see what you’re missing?"
The buffet table glittered, tiny delicacies arranged like jewels. Priscilla’s eyes glead as she plucked a canapé from the nearest platter.
"You should try this," she crooned. "Dickson’s favorite."
My jaw clenched. "Haven’t you taken enough?"
She tilted her head, the picture of innocence. "Taken? I’m just claiming what’s mine." The canapé hovered near my lips. "Everything you have belongs to . You’re just... holding it for ."
Her free hand shot up, shoving the food into my mouth. I stumbled back, choking on the sudden burst of flavors—smoked salmon, cream, betrayal.
"Eat up," she said. "You’ll need your strength."
Crumbs clung to my lips as I coughed. Around us, guests murmured, their eyes flicking away when I t their gaze. No one intervened. No one ever did.
"Poor Eleanor. Always the placeholder."
My hands trembled at my sides as I wiped my mouth. "I’ve never done anything to you," I said, my voice raw. "I loved you. Took care of you when you were sick—"
Priscilla’s sickly-sweet mask slipped for just a second, her lips twisting into sothing ugly. "That’s the problem," she hissed, stepping closer so only I could hear. "You always acted like you were better than . The perfect daughter. The perfect sister." Her fingers dug into my arm. "Even when I got all the love, all the attention, you still think you can outshine . Why do you even exist?"
The words hit like physical blows. I could only stare as she continued.
"I made sure all your relationships failed. Every single one. Those n? They all wanted instead." Her smile turned cruel.
"You don’t deserve happiness. The only place you belong is locked away where no one has to see your pathetic face—"
Then she shoved . Hard.
My back hit the drinks table. Glasses shattered. Ice-cold liquid soaked through my dress as I crashed into the fountain, the world tilting violently.
Gasps erupted around us.
By the ti I blinked the sticky sweetness from my eyes, Priscilla was already on the ground, clutching her chest dramatically.
"D-Dickson," she whimpered, her voice trembling with perfect, practiced fear. "I tried to talk to her, but she—she forced to drink—" A ragged cough. "She knows I’m allergic."
Dickson was at her side in an instant, cradling her like sothing fragile. His glare burned into as I struggled to stand, my dress clinging, dripping.
"Are you happy now?" he spat. "You ca here to ruin everything, didn’t you? To humiliate ?"
The crowd murmured, their judgntal stares like knives against my skin.
Priscilla let out a pitiful sob. "Why does she hate so much?"
"Get it through your head, Eleanor. I love her. You’re nothing to ."
No one moved to help .
I laid there, dripping, my arms stinging where glass had cut into my skin. "She pushed ," I said, my voice shaking.
Dickson scoffed, cradling Priscilla closer. "Look at her—fragile, sick. And you’re accusing her of pushing you?" He shook his head like I was so pitiful creature. "Can’t you just admit what you did instead of lying?"
Around us, phones lifted. Caras flashed. Laughter curled through the crowd like smoke.
"So desperate..."
"Can’t let go..."
"Pathetic."
"She’s still obsessed with him..."
"Can’t accept she lost..."
Mira appeared at my side, her hands gentle as she checked my cuts. "We need to get you cleaned up," she murmured, ignoring the stares.
I pulled back. "You’ll hurt yourself too. The glass—"
"I don’t care," she snapped, gripping my elbow tighter. "Let’s go."
"You’re not going anywhere." Dickson’s voice cut through the noise. He stepped forward, his eyes cold. "Not until you kneel and apologize to Priscilla."
Mira whirled on him. "Are you serious? Look at her!"
"I said," Dickson repeated slowly, "kneel."
My breath hitched. Kneel? On broken glass?
Is this the sa man that I am in love with, acting so cruel to overnight? Or is that how he has always been, and I was just ignorant?
Priscilla sniffled, waving a weak hand. "It’s okay... She doesn’t have to—"
The crowd erupted.
"Apologize!"
"She almost killed her sister!"
"Disgusting!"
"Make her beg!"
"After what she did?"
Then—
A voice, sharp as a blade, sliced through the chaos.
"What is the aning of this?"
Silence fell like a guillotine.
The crowd parted, revealing the three n i saw earlier. An older man which i believe is the the event’s host, frowned at the scene.
"I asked a question. Why is the event being disrupted by this... spectacle?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)