Chapter 5

SHANNON.

A deliveryman stood there in a red and black jacket, holding a wide, elegant box wrapped in matte black paper with a deep red ribbon tied at the center.

My brows furrowed. “Delivery for Shannon Wallace,” he said without much expression, handing me a tablet to sign.

I hesitated. “Uh… who sent this?”

He shrugged, already turning back to his van like his job was done. “It’s paid for. Signature, please.”

With hesitation, I signed, still staring at the box like it might bite me.

I shut the door and carried the box inside carefully, my heart already beginning to pound. This wasn’t a birthday. It wasn’t an anniversary. It wasn’t Valentine’s Day.

So who the hell was sending me gifts?

I carried the box to the living room and placed it on the center table. I sat in front of it, staring for a long second.

It looked… expensive. And it also had no sender on it.

I finally pulled at the ribbon, slowly, like I was defusing a bomb.

The lid came off with a soft sigh of air, and immediately I was greeted with the sight of a single tulip. It was white, fresh, and perfectly bloomed. It was resting delicately on a bed of silk.

My breath caught.

Tulips were my favorite.

No one outside my close circle knew that.

Under the flower lay a short, blood-red gown. Satin. Off-shoulder. Beautifully made with hand-beaded straps and a thigh slit that looked like trouble. I lifted it from the box and let it unfold completely.

It looked expensive and way out of our budget.

Suddenly, my entire chest tightened.

The gown. The flower. The anonymity

A bolt of fear ran down my spine.

My hand froze mid-air, still holding the dress.

Was this…

No.

God, no.

Was this from him?

I swallowed hard, backing a step away from the box. My hands were trembling again.

I wish Valerie were here. Maybe she would have believed me this time around.

My vision turned blurry.

This is what I'd been saying. I wasn't stupid. I wasn't crazy! These were from him! Otherwise, why is there no sender? Not even a note?

I was just about to drop the dress and reach for my phone when...

Oh. Wait.

There is a note.

It was tucked deep in the corner of the box, beneath the folds of tissue paper.

It was a small white card.

I snatched it up quickly and read it.

'I'd love to see you in this tonight. - G.'

For a second, my brain didn’t connect the dots.

Then it hit me.

George.

I stared at the letter again.

I let out a shaky breath. A broken little laugh escaped my lips as I collapsed onto the couch, with the dress still in my lap.

It was from George.

Of course, it was George.

God, I was losing my mind.

I sat there, running my fingers through my hair as the wave of anxiety slowly rolled back.

It was George. He was trying to make me feel beautiful. Trying to do something nice. Trying to add some sparkle to a day that had been crap from the beginning.

I smiled. My chest swelled a little with warmth.

But then I frowned again.

That dress wasn’t cheap.

And George hadn’t even received his first salary bump from the transfer yet.

Where did he get the money?

I picked up the fabric and ran my fingers over it. It felt like luxury. It felt cool, smooth, and kissed with class.

Maybe he used his savings. Or maybe he pulled some strings with a friend in retail. Who knew?

Still, I couldn’t help but feel… seen and loved.

He was trying. Even in the middle of all this madness.

And for the first time all day, I felt something other than fear and frustration.

I felt cherished.

God, I needed that.

But I’d still kill him if he went broke trying to spoil me.

***

By the time I was done dressing, I stood in front of the mirror and couldn’t even recognize myself for a second.

The red satin clung to my skin like it was made for me. The fabric shimmered softly under the bedroom light, highlighting every curve I usually spent too much time hiding. The slit kissed up my thigh just enough to be dangerous, but still classy. The neckline framed my collarbone like art.

I turned slightly to the side, adjusted one of the straps, and tilted my head.

Goddamn.

Wealth would look good on me.

And I knew George would love how this looked on me. He’d probably drop whatever he was holding the second he saw me. I smiled to myself, already imagining his face when he caught sight of me at the venue.

A car horn honked outside.

That was certainly Valerie.

I quickly grabbed my clutch and headed downstairs, locking the door behind me.

The moment I slid into the passenger seat of her car, Valerie’s jaw dropped. “Oh. My. Freaking. God.”

I laughed. “It’s just a dress.”

“It’s not just a dress, bitch, it’s a statement,” she said, dragging out the word with emphasis. “You look like you walked out of a billionaire’s daydream.”

I rolled my eyes, blushing.

She eyed me up and down again. “If I were a man, Shan, I’d stalk you. No lie.”

We both burst into laughter. But there was a little flutter in my chest that I didn’t acknowledge out loud. That tiny, nervous ache that still lingered even after the box turned out to be from George.

I quickly pushed it down.

The night wasn’t about fear.

When we pulled into the lot, my jaw dropped. Whoever this man was, must be filthy rich and proud too.

A red carpet had been rolled out. Photographers stood to the side, clicking away, flashes going off every few seconds.

I swallowed. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Valerie said beside me. “CEO really wanted to make an entrance, huh?”

“Drama queen,” I muttered, pushing the door open and stepping out.

Everyone was dressed to kill.

And I, thanks to George, didn’t feel out of place for once.

I stood near the bar, pretending to sip from the glass Valerie handed me, while scanning the crowd for George. He was nowhere to be found. Probably too busy at the moment.

For the next twenty minutes, it was just music, wine, and a carousel of small talk with people who were either trying too hard to sound interesting or just wanted to be seen talking. I forced smiles, nodded like I cared, and laughed at a few jokes that weren’t even remotely funny.

Honestly, I was tired of engaging in these small, meaningless talks. There was nothing new to discuss with the same coworkers I saw every single day, and I didn’t have the energy to get to know strangers I’d never see again. Half the people here were probably interns or investors anyway. The room was packed with so many unfamiliar faces that I started feeling like I didn’t belong.

And that creepy, nerve-grinding sense of being watched? It was a constant. Sometimes it felt like whoever was watching was actually walking toward me because I felt the hairs at the back of my neck stand a couple of times.

A few times, I turned around so fast I almost tripped on my heels. But there was never anyone there.

I was nearly at my breaking point when I heard George's familiar voice behind me.

"Babe!"

That one word from his mouth, and I felt like I’d been dunked into ice water and handed a lifeline all at once. I spun around instantly.

“Oh my God, George,” I breathed, relief spilling out of me. I didn’t even think before I launched into his arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around me and pulled me into his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been running around all night. You know how it is — making sure the lighting doesn’t fall on somebody’s head, getting the caterers in line, fixing whatever could go wrong before it actually does.” He let out a sigh and finally pulled back to look at me.

That’s when his gaze dropped to the dress.

He didn’t say anything for a second. His eyes lingered on the gown longer than I expected, and I felt my stomach clench just a little.

What? Was it too much? More than he expected?

Was it the slit? The neckline?

Did I overdo my makeup?

His face went blank for a split second — so quick I almost missed it. And then, his expression softened into a look of complete admiration.

“You look...” He stopped, swallowed hard, and smiled. “You look absolutely stunning, baby.”

I let out a soft laugh, the tension draining from my shoulders. “Thanks. But we need to talk. This dress, George? It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s way too expensive. Why would you spend this much when...” I was still saying when he quickly hushed me, looking around the stage.

"Shhh... It seems he's here," George said.

"Who?" I asked.

"The boss."

"Oh. Okay." My anticipation was high. All I could think was:

'Let’s finally meet the man who thinks he can ruin people simply because he is the boss.'

The host finally took the stage. Some overly excited anchor guy with a mic and a suit a size too tight. He grinned as he welcomed everyone.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Staff, partners, and esteemed guests... Welcome to what promises to be a night to remember..."

His voice became distant when I heard my phone vibrate in my clutch.

I almost ignored it.

But something made me open it. I couldn't say if it was instinct or dread.

It was a text from an unknown number.

"I HOPE YOU LIKED THE DRESS? YOU LOOK STUNNING IN IT."

The breath in my throat caught mid-swallow.

I stared and blinked, thinking maybe it was a mistake.

I looked at George, and his attention was focused on the stage. This wasn't one of his pranks.

I felt my hands go numb. My throat dried out. My ears began to ring louder than the mic feedback onstage.

I was already beginning to sweat, even though the AC was blasting hard enough to make my curls move.

No. No. No.

This wasn’t possible.

This couldn’t be happening.

My heart slammed against my chest, so loud I thought people beside me could hear it. I felt my knees weaken, my grip tightening on the clutch as my breath got shallower.

“Shannon, you okay?” George asked beside me, but his voice sounded far away.

Then the room erupted in loud applause.

The sound snapped me back just enough to lift my gaze to the stage.

I hadn’t even realized the anchor had stopped talking. I didn't hear the name he called, but he had already introduced the man of the hour, who had just taken the stage.

And the moment my gaze rested on his face, the world just… stopped spinning.

He was looking right at me.

And instantly, I was no longer in a hall filled with overpaid executives and their underdressed assistants.

I was back at that fateful night, shaking and crying, watching them put cuffs on him while he turned to look at me.

And smiled.

And right now, he was giving me that same smile from that night... Only a colder, lethal, emotionless version of the smile, like something carved out of ice and hate

The new CEO was Kenai.

My stepbrother.

The one who was supposed to be rotting in prison.