Chapter 23: Shattered Facades
Sophie's face flushed with panic, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I-I mean, it's the most important part of the event. You can't just cancel it! Lady Sophia would never allow it."
Her desperation was palpable. It wasn't about tradition or etiquette; it was about her own dreams.
Sophie had been waiting for this moment, anticipating the chance to stand in the spotlight with Cole Fay — the most handsome, eligible bachelor in the entire world.
She wanted this dance, this perfect fairy tale, more than anything.
But me? I couldn't care less about that dream anymore.
That life—
that
person
—was gone.
~Rriinnggg!~
Finally!
I'd texted Michael Blair earlier, asking him to call me, saying that it was an urgent matter, and now, as my phone buzzed in my hand, I couldn't have been more relieved.
It was the perfect excuse.
I shot to my feet, pretending to be startled. "What? Right now? I'll be there immediately."
"Wait, what are you talking about?" Michael's voice on the other end was puzzled. "You told me to—"
"I'm on my way," I interrupted hastily, cutting him off and feigning urgency.
"Are you messing with me?"
Ignoring his confusion, I looked apologetically at Lina. "Sorry, Lina. Something urgent just came up."
She blinked, still caught off guard by my sudden shift. "Oh . . . alright, of course. Sorry for asking you out so suddenly."
I gave her a bright smile, doing my best to mask the turmoil beneath. "Don't worry about it. Let's do lunch another time, just the two of us?"
Before anyone could say another word, I turned on my heel and hurried out the door, leaving Sophie stunned behind me.
The second I stepped outside, a breath of relief escaped me, but it wasn't long before I heard Sophie's voice echoing from behind.
"My lady! Where are you going?"
I didn't bother turning around, waving my hand dismissively. "I have somewhere to be. You go on ahead."
I wasn't interested in hearing her reply as I casually flagged down a cab. Once inside, I glanced at the side mirror and saw her hurriedly climb into our car, instructing the driver to follow me.
A small smirk played on my lips.
If she wants to follow me so badly, then so be it.
"North Star Mall," I told the cab driver.
The man nodded and pulled away, heading toward the bustling shopping center.
I had no intention of meeting Michael—he'd done his job. No, I had other plans for Sophie. If she wanted to trail after me, I'd lead her into a long, tiring day of shopping, spending her father's money on things she could only dream of.
Let her chase me through the endless maze of luxury stores. Let her watch me enjoy the life she so desperately wanted to claim for herself.
===🤍===
Back at the restaurant, Lina sat in stunned silence, still trying to process Eve's abrupt departure. She turned to Cole, her brow furrowed.
"Did something happen between you two?" she asked cautiously.
Cole's expression remained impassive, but his silence spoke volumes.
"What are you talking about?" he finally replied, though his tone lacked conviction.
Regarding Eve, he had always treated her with the same cold indifference he showed to everyone else, so he couldn't figure out what part Lina was referring to when she implied he'd done something to upset her.
To him, he hadn't changed — he had never shown Eve any warmth or kindness, never given her false hope.
So why did she look at him today with such anger, such hurt, as if he had crossed some invisible line?
Lina's eyes narrowed. "Surely I'm not the only one who noticed how she looked at you just now. It was like . . . like you'd killed her dog or something."
Cole didn't respond, his gaze drifting back to his cup as he took a slow sip of tea. "She doesn't have a dog."
Lina leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Could she have finally come to her senses and stopped chasing after you?"
For a brief second, the faintest crack appeared in Cole's stoic facade. His hand tightened ever so slightly around his teacup, but he quickly recovered, his expression unreadable.
He said nothing, but Lina saw it—the subtle tension in his posture, the way his eyes flickered for just a moment.
The truth was, Eve's absence these past few days hadn't gone unnoticed. It surprised him, unsettled him even. He had grown so used to her constant presence—her persistence, her teasing, her tireless efforts to win his attention—that her sudden disappearance felt like a void he couldn't quite place.
It
should
have been a relief. He should have been glad she was finally leaving him alone, finally giving him peace.
But the silence she left behind was heavier than he expected.
He refused to acknowledge it—refused to admit that a part of him
missed
her presence, missed the way she always hovered around him, drawing his attention whether he liked it or not.
It wasn't love. Just maybe discomfort at the sudden shift.
But the truth gnawed at him, a small, irritating seed of discomfort that grew each time he realized she wasn't there.
And then . . . there was the anger.
That flash of fury in Eve's eyes when she looked at him today, the way her voice had trembled, not with affection or admiration, but with something darker—something cold and unforgiving.
It sparked an unfamiliar emotion deep within him, one he couldn't quite name, but he didn't like it.
He didn't like the way it stirred him, the way it made his chest tighten with something like guilt, something like regret.
Cole set his cup down with a soft clink and reached for the bottle of wine on the table. Without a word, he poured himself a glass, the liquid swirling dark and rich as it filled the cup. He raised it to his lips, taking a long, deliberate gulp, trying to drown the strange sensation rising in him.
Across the table, Lina chuckled knowingly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, well . . . someone's affected," she teased.
Cole shot her a sharp look. "Shut up. I'm not."
But Lina only chuckled, leaning back in her seat, clearly entertained by his discomfort. "You might be able to fool yourself, but you can't fool me, brother."
Cole said nothing, his jaw tightening as he downed the rest of his drink, the burn of the alcohol doing little to quell the turmoil inside him.
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