Chapter 5

Daphne’s POV

I stared at my reflection until the girl in the mirror blurred, then a laugh tore out of me—sharp, broken, wrong. It kept spilling from my throat, growing louder, more unhinged, until my chest ached. I shoved my hair back with trembling fingers, frustration burning under my skin.

A sister.

That was what he saw when he looked at me. After kissing me. After lighting something in me I couldn’t put out. The word felt like a blade twisting deeper every time it echoed in my head.

A snarl ripped from my lips as I swept my arm across the vanity. Bottles shattered. Powders exploded across the floor like bruised petals. I pressed my teeth into my lower lip, hard enough to taste blood, but it didn’t stop the tears. They slid down anyway—hot, humiliating.

I loved him. God, I loved him so much it hurt to breathe.

How was I supposed to accept this? How did someone survive loving a man who belonged to someone else?

A knock sounded at the door. I stiffened, eyes snapping up. Mom. It had to be her—ready with another lecture, another reminder of everything I was doing wrong. I wiped at my cheeks and glanced at the mess, panic fluttering in my chest. I needed to clean this up before she—

The door opened.

Bella stepped inside.

The sight of her only fed the storm raging inside me.

“What the hell, Bella?” I snapped. “Have you ever heard of privacy?”

She didn’t look at me. Her eyes stayed on the floor, on the broken makeup scattered like evidence of a crime.

“What happened here, Daphne?” she asked softly.

I rolled my eyes and moved past her, dropping onto the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight, heavy and unwelcoming.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered.

She followed and sat beside me, close enough that I could feel her warmth. Too close.

“Let me guess,” she said gently. “You and Mom fought again.”

If only that were it.

I swallowed hard. The man I loved had just drawn a line between us and called it family—and he was her fiancé.

“What else is new?” I said, forcing a weak smile that felt like it might crack my face in two.

Her brows creased. “Do you plan on continuing like this? Even after I leave? Are you both just going to keep fighting?”

“I won’t be here,” I said quickly. “I’m moving out too. I can’t stay here with her.”

Bella turned to me fully, worry flashing across her face. “You can’t do that. We promised we’d only leave when we got married. Remember?”

You promised, I thought.

“You did,” I said instead. “Not me. So why—”

I stopped myself, exhaustion crashing over me. “Forget it. I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”

She studied me for a moment, then sighed. “That’s not why I came.”

My heart skipped.

“I need to tell you something,” she continued. “It’s about Stefan.”

My fingers curled into the bedspread.

“What about him?” I asked, my voice barely steady.

“He told me something,” Bella said quietly. “And it’s about you.”

My heart stumbled, then raced.

Did he tell her? About the kiss? About us?

Hope bloomed—reckless and bright.

“He wants to hook you up with his friend.”

The smile I hadn’t even realized I was forming died instantly. My lips flattened into a frown.

“Seriously?” I said. “He wants to hook me up?”

“No—no, not like that,” she rushed. “I mean, he just thinks you should meet someone, so you—”

I scoffed, the sound sharp enough to cut her off.

“Daphne,” Bella said carefully, “you’ve never had a boyfriend. You’ve never even talked about a guy—unless we’re counting your imaginary one—and I just—”

“I’m not interested,” I said flatly.

She sighed. “Don’t shut it down yet. Just… try. For my sake.”

The walls felt too close. My chest burned.

“Fine,” I said after a beat, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “I’ll think about it. Now excuse me—I have school tomorrow.”

Relief softened her face.

“Love you, sis. Goodnight,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before leaving.

The door clicked shut.

I stared at the ceiling, jaw tight.

He kissed me.

Then he tried to give me away—like a problem he needed to fix so he could sleep at night.

I let out a bitter laugh.

You will be mine, Stefan, I thought. No matter what it takes.

***

I couldn’t focus in class the next day. Words blurred on the board, the teacher’s voice fading into background noise. Bianca noticed immediately—and decided the solution was a club.

“Tonight,” she said, already grabbing her bag. “We’re going. You need to loosen up.”

I didn’t argue. I’d deal with my mom’s inevitable meltdown later.

The music was deafening, the lights too bright. Bianca shoved a drink into my hand.

“You have to drink tonight.”

“You know how I get when I’m drunk,” I warned, raising my voice over the music.

She pretended not to hear me.

I drained the glass anyway. Then another.

“I need the bathroom,” I said, standing and smoothing down my painfully short dress.

The crowd pressed in as I pushed through, bodies slick with sweat and alcohol. When I finally reached the restroom, I splashed cold water on my face, gripping the sink as the room tilted slightly.

Then I heard it.

A moan.

“Suck my dick harder.”

Confusion sliced through the haze.

What the hell?

It was a club—people did stupid things—but this was the women’s restroom.

I followed the sound, heels clicking softly against the tiles.

My stomach dropped.

A man was on his knees, mouth wrapped around another man’s—

“What the hell…” I slurred.

The man looked up. His eyes widened in panic. He shoved the other guy away and scrambled to his feet.

“I—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” he snapped, irritation hardening his voice.

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “I should be asking you that. This is the women’s restroom.”

“Are you fucking blind?” he snapped. “This is the men’s restroom.”

I opened my mouth to argue—then froze.

The urinals.

My eyes widened.

“You know what,” I said quickly, heat flooding my face, “carry on. Both of you. My mistake—okay, bye.”

I turned and fled before he could say another word.

This was exactly why I shouldn’t drink.

Bianca would never believe what I’d just walked in on. I scanned the club for her, ready to drag her out—only to stop short when I spotted her pressed against one of our classmates, tongues tangled like they’d forgotten the world existed.

Yeah. Definitely not interrupting that.

I veered toward the bar instead.

“One glass of water, please.”

The bartender slid it over, and I drank like my life depended on it. The coolness helped—just a little.

Then my stomach dropped.

He was walking toward me.

Straight toward me.

I stiffened, forcing myself to look calm. It’s not like I’d walked in on a murder, I told myself. Just… something deeply awkward.

“You’re the pervert from earlier,” he said, stopping beside me.

I frowned. “I am not a pervert. I was tipsy and—” I turned back to the bartender. “Please don’t talk to me.”

He leaned closer. “I can talk to you if I want. And whatever you think you saw? You keep it to yourself.”

I scoffed. “Do I look like I care?” I shot back. “I don’t even know who you are.”

The bartender slid a beer toward him.

“On the house,” he said with a grin. “Can’t charge a celebrity.”

My head snapped up.

A celebrity?

“Oh,” I said slowly, eyes dragging over him. “That explains it. A public figure who thinks he owns the place—though I’ve never heard of you.”

He stepped closer, close enough that my breath caught despite myself.

“You’ve never heard the name Adrian?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.