I Don't Hate Her

NEVEN’S POV

Everything was going smoothly, so smoothly it almost irritated me.

The engagement banquet looked rich, chandeliers glowed softly, tables aligned with surgical precision, and the dance floor gleamed, waiting for the “happy couple” to make their grand entrance.

I kept doing what was expected, smiling, shaking hands, and welcoming guests like a man thrilled to be engaged.

Across the hall, Olivia stood with her parents, playing the sweet, innocent fiancée so perfectly it almost looked natural. She smiled like an angel, soft and harmless, pretending she hadn’t forced me into throwing this banquet. Pretending she hadn’t pressured and threatened me, again and again, until I finally let go of Jane just to give her the perfect moment she demanded.

Two million dollars spent just to make tonight look perfect but nothing about it felt perfect to me.

I slipped upstairs for air, leaning on the railing. My eyes scanned the crowd not the guests, not the décor but for Vera. Or my uncle. If she walked in with him, the whole hall would freeze.

The thought made my throat tighten.

Jane… Vera… tangled in my mind. My Jane. The girl I couldn’t let go of. Could she really have been with him? My uncle? The idea burned like acid in my chest. Every possible scenario was worse than the last. It felt insane. Wrong. Impossible.

Three hours in, the main event still hours away. I sipped whiskey, letting it burn and steady me, telling myself it had to be a stunt. A hired actor. Anything but the truth.

A punishment.

Her way of getting back at me for choosing Olivia over her.

Maybe she found someone who looked like him.

Maybe she staged the whole thing just to mess with my head.

But the alternative idea of her actually letting him close, letting him touch her, and letting him leave marks on her skin hit me with a burn so sharp it almost knocked the air out of my lungs.

That picture wouldn’t leave my mind. It kept replaying itself, taunting me, twisting deeper every time.

I gripped the railing harder, trying to breathe. If she walked into this engagement party with him…I wasn’t sure If I could stand still.

I wasn’t sure I could pretend.

I wasn’t even sure I could survive the sight.

Three hours had passed since the first guests trickled in. The string quartet was warming up. The engagement waltz was only minutes away.

I took another sip of whiskey, letting it burn, letting it steady me. She did it all to make me feel guilty for… cheating on her and still wanting her, I told myself. Though, I kept scanning, silently hoping she hadn’t actually shown up with him.

I forced a smile, trying to steady myself, until Sophia tapped my shoulder.

Her smile was practiced and adoring, like she’d rehearsed it in a mirror.

“Everything is going so well, darling,” she purred, sipping from her goblet. “You’re a genius for choosing this venue.”

I hummed distractedly, eyes sweeping the crowd, my mind tangled in the impossible scenario of JaneVera and my uncle or maybe some plan she’d set in motion just to hurt me.

Sophia tilted her head, studying me.

“Where did you even get the money to pull all this off?” she asked, half-teasing, half-prying, her glossed lips brushing the rim of her goblet. “I mean… this is next-level.”

Her question yanked me out of my spiraling thoughts and I blinked, the hall snapped back into focus, the glittering lights and the hundreds of gazes measuring me like I was still the golden boy they expected me to be.

I didn’t answer. She already knew where the money came from.

“You can’t possibly have that much money unless… you borrowed from my dad again…” Sophia tilted her head, her perfectly sculpted brow arching like she was amused.

I scoffed, brittle. It annoyed me that she even asked, pretending she wasn’t knee‑deep involved, or maybe this was just her way of taunting me.

She knew everything and she also had shit on me, real, dangerous, illegal stuff that could destroy everything I had left.

Months ago, after Jane left for college and the loneliness ate me raw, I’d been reckless. Stupid. Sophia slipped into that empty space like poison. She helped me bury something illegal, something that would ruin my future if it ever saw daylight.

And while we hid the mess together… we started fucking.

I was weak. She was convenient.

And she recorded everything I should’ve kept buried.

When I tried to end it because Jane would return, Sophia only smiled, patted her still‑flat stomach, and reminded me she was pregnant.

My child. My supposed heir.

The one thing that could shake the entire family tree and rip the company right out of Caesar’s hands.

Marrying her was never love. It was insurance and a leash, built from blackmail and a baby I never asked for. That was one reason I agreed but the truth was darker. She didn’t just hold the affair over me. She kept every detail of the crime we buried, that could end me and she threatened to expose it all the second I tried to leave.

And she would. I knew exactly what she was capable of.

Worst of all? That pregnancy wasn’t just leverage, it was a weapon. The first grandchild. The key to the company my grandfather guarded like a crown jewel. If I gave him the first heir, he’d hand me everything without a second thought.

It was her plan. Not mine.

A deal I never wanted, but couldn’t claw my way out of.

And knowing Jane was her best friend? She didn’t care.

Hell, I’m sure she wanted Jane to find out. I had insisted on keeping everything secret until I could tell Jane myself, but it was too late. Sophia made sure of it.

Even now, after everything, I was still in love with Jane. And there was no way I’d let her go to another man. I’d rather keep her as my mistress until I fix everything.

She was the reason I’d thrown absurd amounts of money into tonight’s display so she could see what I could be, what I could give, so she’d come back. So people would whisper that JaneVera must have returned for wealth, for status, or for anything that painted me above her.

My grip tightened around the glass until a faint crack whispered under my fingers. I might’ve shattered it if Sophia’s voice hadn’t cut through again.

But then everyone gasped.

“What’s going on over there?” Olivia asked, grasping my arm.

I released the glass and followed her gaze toward the entrance. The main double doors at the far end swung open, and the hall erupted. A wave of paparazzi surged in, cameras flashing, shouts bouncing off the marble.

My stomach dropped. The crowd wasn’t reacting to just anyone. Whoever had walked in carried power. Influence. Presence.

Only one person in my family could pull that kind of attention.

No.

No, it couldn’t be.

Then I heard them confirm it.

“It’s Caesar!”

My heart thudded.

My uncle.

How the fuck did she make him come here?

Impossible.

The screams grew louder, the flashes strobed violently, and then I saw them.

Caesar in a black tux, no tie, top buttons undone like rules didn’t exist. A gold chain glinting at his hip. Moving like he owned the world.

And on his arm, pressed close, waist cinched by his possessive hand… JaneVera.

Not the Jane I remembered. Jane never dressed like this, almost half-naked in black silk seeded with diamonds, neckline plunging so deep it was a miracle physics held her boobs in, backless to the base of her back, slits flashing thigh with every slow step. Heels sharp enough to kill. Hair cascading in dark waves over one shoulder.

Faint bruises bloomed along the edge of her collarbone, disappearing beneath the plunging silk.

A fresh bite mark, darkly sat just above the swell of her breast, visible every time she breathed.

Another on her throat, high, impossible to hide.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me what it meant.

He fucked her.