Chapter 3

Later that night…

As soon as I stepped inside, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, the chaos of the night finally fading.

Then I saw him—sitting in the parlor.

My father.

My heart slammed against my chest as tears welled in my eyes. 

I ran to him without thinking.

“Terisa?” my father asked gently as I rushed into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

I clutched him tightly. “Nothing… I just— I suddenly missed you.”

He chuckled softly, patting my back. “Missed me? Are you trying to act spoiled again?”

I shook my head against his chest. “No. I just wanted to hold you for a moment.”

He sighed, his voice warm. “You’re acting strange tonight.”

“I’m fine,” I whispered quickly. “Really. I just… wanted to be here.”

“I missed you, Dad,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I wiped the tears from my cheek. “I’m… I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He chuckled, brushing my hair back gently. 

“Stop acting like a child. You’ll always be my baby.”

Then he added casually, “Weren’t you supposed to be with Drake tonight? Why are you home so early?”

The sound of Drake’s name sent a sharp wave of irritation through me.

 I forced a smile, swallowing the reaction before it could reach my face.

Just hearing Drake’s name sent a sharp ripple of irritation through me.

I forced a small smile. “Okay, Dad. Goodnight. Drake is fine—I just missed you, so I came home.”

Before he could ask anything else, I turned and walked toward my room, my heart steady with a single thought:

This time, I wasn’t losing anything.

Not my father.

Not my brother.

Not myself.

I closed the door behind me and went straight to my vanity.

I glanced over my shoulder once, then back at my reflection—my calm expression hiding the storm beneath.

I opened the drawer and pulled out a red lipstick.

Not for makeup.

For strategy.

One by one, I laid out the photos.

Mrs. Lisa—my stepmother.

Vivian—my stepsister.

Drake—the man I once thought I loved.

I drew their names across the mirror, sharp red lines from my lip stick connecting them.

Mrs. Lisa and Drake.

Why were they working together?

How were they connected?

Then it clicked.

Drake and Vivian had been seeing each other in secret. That explained the alliance.

But my brother?

Why involve him?

Why kill him?

I drew thick, angry strokes between their photos, mapping out motives and betrayals I’d ignored in my previous life.

I dragged the lipstick across my lips, watching my reflection harden.

“Hmmm… I won’t be the victim this time,” I whispered, a cold smirk curling my lips. “I’ll uncover everything.”

I stood and slipped out of my dress, changing into my nightgown, my thoughts already racing ahead.

Tomorrow would be another show.

It was Drake’s birthday—the night he planned to propose with that cheap, fake diamond ring.

I remembered how excited I had been back then… how foolishly in love I thought I was. 

How delusional.

Not anymore.

Tomorrow would be different.

The next day arrived faster than I expected.

It was time for Drake’s birthday party—the event he had been bragging about for weeks. 

Every executive from Avila Incorporated would be there. 

After all, he was the so-called future son-in-law of the Avila family.

The hall buzzed with music, laughter, and flashing lights the moment I stepped in.

And I came prepared.

I walked through the entrance wearing a deep  blood-red velvet gown—so dark it appeared almost black in the shadows, yet blazed a searing red under the lights.

The cut was sharp, tailored to perfection, exuding dangerous elegance. 

Tiny diamonds scattered across the fabric caught the light, sparkling like whispered warnings.

I picked red.

As It was the color of unyielding determination—a deliberate declaration: I would be seen, and retribution was inevitable.

Heads turned instantly. 

Conversations stalled. 

People whispered.

Good.

Let them watch.

I lifted my chin and pushed deeper into the crowd, my heels clicking with quiet confidence.

This time, Drake wouldn’t be celebrating a birthday.

This time, he would remember it as the night everything began to unravel.

“You look beautiful,” Drake murmured, his eyes tracing the lines of my dress. 

“I didn’t know you’d go all out tonight… you look amazing. I love you,” he whispered in my ear.

“I know I look good,” I said, brushing past him. 

“My outfit is perfect. I don’t care who stares or what they think—nobody here can top me.” I added with a smirk on my face.

I reached for a glass of wine, the cool stem steady in my fingers.

 That’s when I saw him—the man from the rooftop.

“Mr. Rowan!” someone called.

So he seems important.

 Fascinating.

 But tonight, I had bigger things to focus on.

I took a slow sip, watching Drake approach. Of course—I knew that walk.

 He was about to propose. And the funny part? 

He hadn’t planned anything special.

 Why had I ever been so obsessed with him?

Not today.

 I wouldn’t run. 

The answer would be clean, sharp, and final.

He knelt before me. 

Eyes widened, whispers rippled, cameras lifted. 

The room froze.

“From the day we met until now, I’ve always wanted to be by your side—through your sad and happy times,” he began.

I smiled slow, dangerous And said:

“Drake… stand up. You can’t offer me forever when you can barely even offer Loyalty.”

I pulled out my phone, pressed play, and turned the screen toward him.

The press video from that night. 

Him and Vivian. 

His face drained of color.

“Stop making promises you can’t keep,” I said, tilting my head. “Wait… or did you kneel in the wrong place? Did you think I was Vivian?”

“It… it was all a misunderstanding that night. Remember, it was supposed to be us,” Drake stammered. “So… stop this.”

A few gasps echoed through the crowd. 

Cameras zoomed in, flashes erupting like fireworks.

“Sad times? You? Be with me?” I laughed under my breath. 

“Please… stop embarrassing both of us,” I said, my voice breaking despite the laugh that threatened to escape.

With that, I turned and walked away, heels clicking against the marble as whispers and camera flashes erupted behind me.

He scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with panic.

“Teresaaa!” he shouted. “It was a mistake! Just let it go—please!”

I wanted to ignore him, to walk away… but my pride wouldn’t let me.

Slowly, I turned back, meeting his desperate gaze.

“A mistake?” I said, stepping closer. “Drake, a mistake is spilling wine on someone’s shirt. What you did was a CHOICE - it's just not me Drake.”

The room went dead silent.

“So NO, Drake. I won’t marry you,” I added, brushing past him. “Hope that clears any doubt you had.”

And with that, I walked away without looking back.

Murmurs spread through the room, everyone whispering and stealing glances.

“Wow… she’s savage. I didn’t know she had that in her,” someone said.

Watching from afar, a glass of wine in hand, he spoke.

“This side of her wasn’t on her profile,” Rowan muttered to his assistant.

“No, sir. She appeared to be an ordinary little miss of Avila Incorporated very easygoing, very unbothered.”

Rowan smirked. “Well… seems the entire family is good at hiding their real faces.”