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Amie stared at for a long mont, her mouth slightly open, as if her brain was still catching up to everything I had just said.

The noise of the bar seed to fade into the background as she slowly processed it all. The clinking glasses, the low hum of conversations, the muffled music it all blurred into nothing.

Then she laughed.

Not a small laugh.

She leaned back against the bar and had to grip the counter to steady herself, her shoulders shaking as she tried to catch her breath.

"Wow," she finally said, wiping the corner of her eye. "Okay. Wow."

I frowned.

She straightened and pointed a finger at . "So let get this straight. You’re telling you have super rich brothers like, ridiculously rich—and one of them just casually gifted you an entire restaurant... and your reaction was to grab your kid and run away?"

I didn’t answer. Because that was exactly what I did.

Amie shook her head in disbelief. "Sylvia, if soone handed a restaurant, I would’ve fainted first, cried second, and then imdiately asked where the champagne was."

I let out a tired breath and rubbed my forehead. "I didn’t have ti to react. And it’s not like I have a good relationship with my brothers either."

"But still," she emphasized, leaning closer, "how could you run away in that situation?"

I rubbed my temple, already feeling a dull ache forming behind my eyes. "Because I didn’t know what my brothers were thinking. I went there fully prepared to resign. I had already made up my mind. And then suddenly—" I gestured vaguely in the air. "—I was told I owned the place."

Amie whistled softly. "That’s not a plot twist. That’s a plot explosion."

I shot her a look. "Yeah, more like it. But you’re not helping. Geez."

"Oh, I’m absolutely helping," she said with a laugh. "I’m just trying to understand how soone can trip over a life-changing opportunity and imdiately sprint in the opposite direction."

I stared down at my drink, watching the ice slowly lt. "It didn’t feel like an opportunity."

She paused.

"...Okay," she said more carefully. "Then what did it feel like?"

I hesitated.

"It felt like a trap," I admitted quietly.

Her teasing expression softened. "Because of your brothers?"

"Because of everything," I replied. "Because nothing in my life ever cos without a cost."

Amie leaned closer, resting her chin on her hand. "You also ntioned sothing earlier. About why no one else would hire you."

My fingers tightened slightly around the glass.

She frowned. "You said you were banned?"

I nodded slowly. "Everywhere I apply, I get rejected almost mdiately. No explanations. Even places that were desperate for workers wouldn’t take ."

Amie’s brows knitted together. "That’s... not normal."

"I know."

She sat up straighter. "So you’re saying soone deliberately made sure you couldn’t get a job. Anywhere."

"Yes."

"Like—blacklisted?"

"That’s exactly what it feels like."

She stared at , stunned. "But do you know who did that?"

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I feel like I already know who did it. I just didn’t realize it at first."

Her lips parted slightly.

"I thought it was just bad luck," I continued. "Or maybe my situation. But it kept happening. Over and over. Even before."

"And your brothers knew?" she asked carefully.

I swallowed. "Stephenson did. Sylvester too."

Amie let out a slow breath. "So not only do you have billionaire brothers, but they knew you were being blocked from working...?"

"They probably only found out recently," I said, though even I wasn’t convinced by my own words. "Maybe they thought they were helping . Out of pity."

Amie clicked her tongue. "That’s not helping at all."

She studied , then added, "But seriously... are you really part of the Lincolm family? They’re insanely rich. And yet your life is completely different. Maybe they did all that out of guilt."

I looked away.

Then she leaned forward again. "Okay. Aside from you apparently being a Lincolm heiress—"

"I’m not an heiress.." I cut in.

"But you said your father changed," she countered. "And so did your brothers. That doesn’t change the fact that you’re still their family. How could they just let you go? Their only sister, running away with nothing?"

She took a sip of her vodka before continuing. "But seriously, I’m dying to know about your triplets’ father. He is Ro Hariston, right?"

My shoulders stiffened, and my eyes widened instantly. "You can’t just drop that na like it’s nothing—"

I leaned closer and whispered sharply while glancing around the bar. "Please don’t ntion his na."

"Oh," she whispered back. "but his na is Ro, right?"

I clenched my jaw.

"You know," she continued quietly. "I always see him at the principal’s office. Whenever the principal calls in to report sothing about class, almost everything they want to ask is about the twins and he’s always there. They’re always extra careful around your daughters."

I fell silent. My hand slowly curled into a fist. I didn’t know Ro had been circling the kids for that long. Which could only an one thing.

He knew.

"Its all... complicated..." I finally said.

"Yeah," Amie muttered. "Your life is."

I stared at the swirling liquid in my glass.

"Ro is—was—soone important. Soone I trusted. Soone I loved once, before everything fell apart."

I paused, my jaw tightening.

"Now, I hate how he just shows up at my house early in the morning, unannounced, like he still has the right to cross that line. I don’t know but I just really hate him now.."

Amie’s eyes widened. "Wait. Today? As in early this morning?"

"Yes."

"And he just... barged in?"

"With his usual confidence," I said bitterly. "Like nothing ever happened."

"What did he want?"

I laughed softly. "I d-don’t know. He acted like I’d welco him with open arms. Like he had no idea how much damage he caused. He looks like he’s regretting everything, wanted to talk but his sincerity didn’t reach ."

Amie shook her head. "n."

"There’s more," I said. "He knows things. About my life now. About the kids."

Her eyes snapped back to . "He knows about Cairo?"

"Yes."

"And the others?"

"Yes."

She cursed under her breath. "Sylvia..."

"I didn’t tell him," I said quickly. "I swear. He found out on his own."

She exhaled sharply. "So let guess. Now that he knows everything, things are stirred up again?"

I didn’t answer. Because the answer was written all over my face.

She leaned back and ran a hand through her hair. "Okay. Nope. Stop."

I blinked. "What?"

"That’s too much information," she said. "Rich brothers. Blacklisting. A surprise restaurant. A walking emotional landmine nad Ro."

She downed the rest of her drink. "We deserve this night. You’ve spent your entire life dedicating everything to your kids. And don’t even get started on how the principal keeps interrogating about the twins like I’m under investigation."

She waved her glass. "My brain is officially overloaded."

I frowned. "Amie—"

"Nope," she interrupted. "We are dancing."

"What?"

She hopped off her stool and grabbed my wrist. "You’ve been thinking nonstop for the past twenty-four hours. Your shoulders are practically glued to your ears."

"I don’t feel like dancing."

"You don’t feel like anything," she countered. "Which is exactly why we’re dancing."

She tugged harder. "Co on. Tonight, we move our bodies and forget our problems exist."

"I barely drank.." I protested weakly.

She glanced at my glass. "Then drink faster."

Before I could argue, she tipped it slightly toward . I sighed and took another long sip.

The alcohol hit harder this ti. Warmth spread through my limbs, loosening the tight knot in my chest just a little.

Amie grinned. "There we go."

She pulled toward the dance floor, lights flashing in rhythm with the bass. The music was louder here, vibrating through the floor and into my bones.

People were laughing. Moving. Living.

For a brief mont, it almost felt normal.

Amie raised her hands and started swaying, completely unbothered by anything else. I hesitated at first, standing stiffly as bodies moved around .

"Relax!" she shouted over the music. "No thinking allowed!"

I tried.

I let the music carry , let my body move without purpose. The world blurred slightly at the edges, my thoughts slowing just enough to give a break.

For the first ti that night, I laughed.

Amie noticed and cheered like she’d won a prize.

"Yes! That’s it!"

I shook my head, smiling despite myself.

"Co on," she yelled, shoving another drink into my hand. "Dancing is more fun with alcohol! Let’s forget everything that happened today!"

I didn’t know how many glasses I drank. I only knew that the mories of the day began to fade, just like she promised.

For the first ti in a long while, I felt alive.

"Woo! Let’s dance more, Sylvia!" she shouted, raising her hands.

I didn’t care anymore. The world spun, but I followed her rhythm.

"Hey... what’s wrong?" I asked when she suddenly stopped moving, her gaze fixed sowhere behind .

Then—

I didn’t see him at first.

Not the group that had just entered. Not the way heads subtly turned. Not how the air shifted.

I was too focused on the music.

Until—

My body froze.

A familiar presence crashed into my senses like a storm.

Slowly, dread crawling up my spine, I turned.

And there he was. Ro.

Standing near the entrance until his eyes landed on .

The mont our gazes t, the world stopped.

His smile faltered.

Surprise.

Then recognition.

Amie stopped dancing beside .

My heart slamd violently against my ribs.

Of all places.

Of all nights.

He had to be here when I was finally trying to forget him.

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