Chapter 4

Ryan's smile faltered. A flicker of tension crossed his face as he gently placed his hand on Harper's lower belly.

"Why does your stomach hurt? Don't tell me… you're actually pregnant?" His eyes held a trace of surprise—and something else, a fleeting joy that surfaced too quickly for even him to catch.

"You should lie down and rest. We'll go to the hospital tomorrow and check it out."

Harper shook her head, her emotions tangled in silence. "Maybe I'm just tired. I want to take a few days and really rest."

Ryan frowned slightly but nodded. "I'll go heat up some milk."

It was a small habit of hers since childhood, something that once made her feel cared for—proof that she was loved, in her own quiet way.

But ever since she discovered he'd slipped sleeping pills into her milk, even that faint warmth had evaporated.

As soon as he left, she picked up her phone, fingers trembling slightly. Sure enough, a friend request had come through.

Her eyes locked onto the name: Fiancé.

Harper bit her lip.

So pushy, she thought. They weren't even close to being engaged.

She hovered over the "accept" button, still hesitating, when a call from Gabe lit up her screen.

"Harper, that George's son is flying in tomorrow. Come home and have dinner with us."

Tomorrow? Hadn't they said it would be another week?

She frowned. "I already have plans."

Her father, mistaking her excuse for a brush-off, sounded displeased. "He pushed aside a whole bunch of things just to come back early. He's taking this seriously—you should too!"

His words made her pause. Her heart stirred, just a little.

"Dad, I really do have other plans."

Her university class president was getting married. A bunch of old classmates were meeting up to hit the bar—one last wild night before he settled down.

Gabe didn't push. He figured it'd look bad for her to seem antisocial in front of her friends.

But once Harper arrived and got dragged into the VIP booth, she regretted it.

Ryan was there. And so was Olivia. Along with that same group of spoiled, arrogant heirs she'd seen too many times before.

Had she known they'd be here, she would've gone home to meet her so-called fiancé instead.

The bar was already buzzing, alcohol thick in the air.

"Come on, let's play a game!"

They pulled her over, hands on her shoulders and arms, pressing a can of dice into her hands.

"Loser either drinks three shots or kisses someone!"

The cheers and laughter grew louder, wild and unfiltered.

Olivia lost the first round. Her face twisted in mock frustration.

"Ugh. I caught a cold recently, took some meds… I really can't drink."

But the others howled like wolves.

"Kiss! Kiss! Olivia, pick me!"

"You? Dream on. If she's picking someone, it's gotta be Ryan."

Instantly, all eyes turned to Ryan.

"Hey, cut it out," someone laughed nervously. "He's a clean freak—hates being touched. We're lucky he even showed up tonight. Don't scare him off."

Olivia's cheeks flushed. She turned slightly toward him.

"Ryan… can I pick you?"

Harper's hands curled tightly in her lap, her eyes fixed on Ryan.

Across the chaotic blur of people, their gazes met.

She wanted to know too—what would he say, right here in front of her?

And then, she had her answer.

Ryan's lips curved into a lazy smile. He looked down at Olivia, his gaze soft.

"My pleasure."

The room exploded into whoops and whistles, drowning out the music.

Harper's ears rang with it. Her chest tightened.

Everything around her slowed—like watching a painful memory in slow motion, crystal clear and inescapable.

Olivia wrapped her arm around his, moving in with flushed cheeks and shy boldness.

Just as their lips were about to meet, Ryan suddenly looked up.

And what he saw made his heart skip.

Harper wasn't flustered. Wasn't angry.

Her eyes—usually soft and easily stirred by him—were still and deep, like water left undisturbed in a shadowed well.

Quiet. Cold.

At the very last second, Ryan turned his head.

Olivia's kiss landed awkwardly at the corner of his mouth.

The dim lighting helped. No one noticed the shift. They were all too caught up in the thrill, the laughter.

Only Olivia's smile wavered for a second. She dipped her head, feigning shyness, hiding the flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

Next round, the loser was Harper.

She frowned.

"I'm allergic to alcohol…"

The boys around Ryan booed loudly.

"Olivia said she couldn't drink either and now you've got a reason too? That's just copying her—how lame."

"Fine, then pick someone to kiss."

Harper glanced around, her face going pale.

There wasn't a single person here she'd even consider getting close to.

One guy's eyes lit up with mischief. He slid up beside her and slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Harper, how about me? I'm a damn good kisser, promise I'll blow your mind."

The stench of alcohol hit her skin like rot. Harper's scalp tingled in panic—she shoved at him, struggling to break free.

But he held fast, his grip like a vice.

Heart racing, Harper instinctively looked to Ryan.

He knew she was allergic to alcohol. He knew.

He had just accepted Olivia's kiss so easily. Was it really so hard for him to show a little decency and get her out of this?

Someone laughed crudely. "What's she looking at Ryan for? Want to kiss him too?"

"Please. Everyone knows the Delgado and Sullivan families are enemies. If she's still clinging to him, that's some next-level pathetic."

Ryan's gaze darkened. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

He took a sip of wine, calm and unbothered, watching the scene like it was nothing more than entertainment. He said nothing.

At that moment, Harper's hands stopped struggling. They simply… dropped.

They were right.

She really was pathetic.

Falling in love with the son of her family's greatest rival. Still harboring hope—even now.

The taunts, the humiliation—they stung. But it was Ryan's silence, his passive watching from the sidelines, that broke her.

That severed the last rope holding her above the drop.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

She gave up.