CHAPTER 4: I ALMOST DIED

I was already at the welcome soirée, but whispers floated through the crowd—Jason’s adoptive father might not make it tonight. I didn’t know how true that was.

I glance around, the black lace of my mask brushing my cheek as I turn. The room glows with quiet luxury: crystal chandeliers catching low light, faces half-hidden but wealth so obvious it doesn’t need to speak.

Even in the expensive Zara dress Jason gave me, I knew they could tell I didn't belong here.

“What are you doing here?” Moni’s voice cuts through the murmur of the party, sharp and venomous. She stands in front of me—unmasked, her face fully exposed under the chandelier. “And who the fuck invited you?”

I don’t answer, just stare past her, like she’s not even there.

She steps closer, her eyes raking over me with pure disgust. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You don’t fit in this world—this luxurious world. You look so out of place. You should’ve just stayed home.”

Her gaze drops to my dress, and her lips curl. “Look at you. Trying so hard to be me. Same outfit, same damn color. Pathetic.”

I meet her eyes but say nothing.

“Oh, the silent treatment?” She smirks. “Fine. Watch yourself get kicked out of this hall soon. I will make sure it’s humiliating. The media’s here—they’re watching everything.”

Before I can react, she lunges forward, her fingers hooking under the edge of my mask. She yanks it off in one swift motion, tossing it carelessly over her shoulder—it flutters to the floor somewhere behind her.

“W-what the hell was that for?” My voice cracks.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, her fingers clamp around my wrist—hard, like she’s trying to leave marks. Pain shoots up my arm.

She starts moving, yanking me forward through the crowd. My heels catch on the marble for a second before I stumble after her.

“Where are you taking me?” I try to pull free, but her grip only tightens.

“Behave,” she hisses through her teeth.

“Moni, what did I ever do to you?” My voice comes out smaller than I want. “Just let me be. Please.” She drags me down a side hallway, heels clicking.

“No,” she hisses. “I want Jason’s adoptive father to know I’m Jason’s girlfriend, not you. I want him to know I’m the one carrying Jason’s child. And for that to happen, Jason has to pick me—right in front of everyone.”

My stomach knots. “Moni, there’s no need for all this. I’m only here to do what I promised, then leave.

It’s for my dad’s hospital bills. I’m not here to steal your position or any of this. I swear.”

She shoves open a side door and pushes me inside a small storage room. I stumble, catching myself against a shelf. She steps in after me and slams the door shut.

“Veronica, that story might impress the Greek gods, but not me.”

I glance around—stacks of linens, cleaning supplies, a trash bag in the corner.

“What are we doing here?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she pulls a matchbox from her clutch bag.

My heart stutters. “W-what are you doing?”

“Shut the fuck up! You talk too much,” she snaps, striking the match.

The flame flares. She touches it to the trash bag behind me.

Fire catches instantly.

I jerk away, heat licking at my legs. “Moni! Are you insane? You’ll get us both killed…what are you even thinking?” I’m already coughing as smoke billows up.

She starts coughing too, eyes watering, but she pounds on the door anyway. “Help! Fire! Someone’s trapped!”

Smoke thickens fast, stinging my eyes, clawing at my throat. I press my sleeve over my mouth, chest burning. The flames crawl higher, snapping and popping, blocking the narrow path to the door.

A man’s voice outside: “There’s a fire—someone’s inside!”

The door handle rattles.

It isn’t even locked—so why is he pretending? Or is this part of her plan?

Then I hear another voice—one I know too well.

Jason.

With one sharp pull, the door flies open.

For a split second, there’s a clear way out.

Then the flames surge, spreading across the floor.

“Moni!” he shouts, rushing straight past the flames to her. He scoops her up like she’s weightless and carries her out.

He doesn’t even glance at me.

I sink to my knees, coughing harder, my vision blurring. The smoke is everywhere.

My lungs scream.

“Moni, baby, are you okay?” I hear him outside, voice thick with panic. “How’s our baby? Talk to me, Moni.”

In all the years I was with him, he never once sounded that worried about me. Never. He only ever raised his voice—or his hand.

How cruel.

Guests swarm them. Whispers float in, but no one comes for me.

Someone yells, “Hey, Jason—your girlfriend’s still in there! The fire’s getting out of control!”

“Girlfriend?” Jason’s voice is cold. “Moni’s more important. She’s carrying my child. I don’t care who’s left in that room.”

The words hit harder than the smoke.

I’m slipping, consciousness fading, when strong arms suddenly wrap around my waist. Someone lifts me effortlessly, carrying me out into the cool, clean air.

I gasp, choking, as he sets me down on the artificial grass outside. Gentle hands pat my back while I cough and wheeze, desperate for oxygen.

My eyes flutter—open, closed, open again—until his face comes into focus.

He knelt in front of me, one hand steady on my back, the other patting slow. An oversized matte-black blazer draped over his broad shoulders. A clean fade giving way to short curls. A sharp jawline shadowed by a neat mustache and goatee. He wore a mask—simple, matte black like his blazer, cut high across the bridge of his nose, leaving only his eyes.

Those eyes—emerald green, vivid and intense—locked in the room like they owned it.

Even half-hidden behind the black mask, I could tell he was devastatingly handsome. The kind of handsome that didn’t need to try.

The fire fighters are here now… the guest must have called them.

Across the hall, Moni is already surrounded by guests, clutching her stomach dramatically, tears streaking her face.

“She did it,” Moni says, voice trembling, pitched perfectly for pity. She points at me weakly. “Veronica—tell them the truth. You pushed me in there. “You wanted me and my unborn child dead.” Her words land like a slap. The crowd murmurs, heads turning toward me.

“No—” I rasp, coughing. “I didn’t. That’s not what happened.”

Jason’s face darkens as he kneels beside Moni, arm protectively around her. “You know what? Everyone here needs to hear this. Veronica is a jealous, manipulative slut.” His voice carries, loud enough for the whole hall. “She’s always been obsessed with Moni.

Now it’s hate—because she can’t stand the fact that she’ll never be her.”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first. The accusation doesn’t even make sense—how could I push her into a burning room—when I was in there too? Would I really want to kill myself?

But the guests are nodding along, their eyes cold on me. Jason’s rich. His adoptive father’s influence looms over everyone. They’ll believe whatever he says whether it sounds ridiculous or not.

Moni looks up at Jason, her eyes wide and pleading. “Jason…tell them. Make it official. Tell everyone right now—who you choose. Me…or Veronica.”

The hall goes quiet.

Jason doesn’t hesitate. “Moni. Obviously. She’s carrying my child. Veronica means nothing to me.”

My stomach twists so hard I almost double over. Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall in front of these people.

I cough again, weaker this time. “I’m telling the truth. Listen to me—I didn’t push anyone. I was dragged in there. I couldn’t have—”

No one responds. They look away, embarrassed for me or just uninterested.

I give up.

That’s when the stranger’s deep voice cuts through everything.

“I’m profoundly disappointed in you, boy,” he says, voice deep and calm, carrying effortlessly across the nearest masked crowd.

Jason turns fast, face already flushing. “I don’t know who the fucking hell you are, but you don’t get to speak to me like that.”

The man doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t raise his voice. He looks at him with quiet contempt. “I’m the man who’s tired of watching spoiled boys throw tantrums in rooms they didn’t earn.” He pauses.

“You’ve spent years riding someone else’s name, and the second it’s tested, this is what comes out?” His gaze sharpens.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? I should ask my assistant exactly where he picked you up.”

Jason’s mouth opens, then closes. No sound comes out. His eyes widen for a second, and I can see the embarrassment hit him hard.

The whole hall goes dead quiet for a beat. Like someone hit pause.

Then the whispers start—low at first, then spreading fast. Heads turn. Phones stay half-raised. People stare openly now.

In all the years I've been around Jason, no one has ever spoken to him like that. Not once. Not in public. Not even close.

They wouldn’t dare.

Not because Jason himself inspires fear.

It’s his adoptive father.

The man with the untouchable legacy—no one talks about him in detail, but everyone just…knows to respect him.

Jason’s jaw locks so hard I can see the muscle jump. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Security!” Jason barks. “Get this maniac out of here.”

The two security guards by the door don’t move.

Jason raises his voice a little, trying to sound in control. “Hello? Anybody working tonight, or do I need to find new ones by morning?”

Still, no one moves.

The stranger looks down at me, eyes locked on mine, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Mi amor,” he murmurs, leaning close enough that only I can hear. His thumb brushes slowly along my jaw. “Do you want me to wreck your pussy? A revenge sex wouldn’t cause any harm, trust me.

Before I can process what he was saying, his mouth crashes onto mine.

The kiss is sudden, hot, claiming. His lips are firm, tasting faintly of whiskey. I freeze for half a second—then I kiss him back. Hard.

Partly because he’s unreal—beautiful in a way that feels dangerous—and partly because Jason is watching. Partly because I want to burn something down too.

I slide my hands into his blazer, pulling him closer. He deepens it, tongue stroking mine, teeth catching my bottom lip just enough to draw a soft moan from me.

“You psychopath!” Jason shouts. “How dare you—”

“Don’t you ever get tired of being a slut, Veronica?” Jason spits. “You have no dignity.”

I pull back just enough to glare at him. “Oh wow, now I’m the one without dignity? You got my best friend pregnant, dumped me publicly, and left me to choke in there—but I’m the slut?”

The stranger smirks, thumb brushing my lower lip. “ you kissed me back, so I'll take that kiss as a yes.”

Before I can speak, he scoops me up—effortlessly, as if I weigh nothing—and strides through the stunned crowd.

I sneak a quick glance back over his shoulder.

Jason’s mouth hangs open like he just swallowed a bug.

And damn it feels so good.