Chapter 4

On the day of the engagement party, the Bradford estate buzzed with excitement.

Even Lina and Benedict’s circle of friends showed up, each casting me curious glances as though they were here to witness a spectacle.

The only one absent was Benedict himself, but considering his long-standing disdain for me, that wasn’t surprising.

“Benedict, what are you doing here?” Lina’s startled voice cut through the chatter.

I turned toward the entrance.

Benedict had come after all.

But his choice of attire felt overly formal though he was a family member.

Dressed like that, he looked more like a groom than a guest.

Jealousy flickered across Lina’s face. “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming?”

“I’m taking responsibility for my actions,” Benedict replied stiffly.

“Running away solves nothing. I’m here to make things clear with Sansa.”

He refused to understand his true feelings, but he had instinctively chosen the suit that best matched my gown before leaving the house. Nor did he want to admit that even if I was vain and clingy, his heart still softened at the thought of me.

With a guarded expression, he walked straight toward me. “Sansa, I lied in the message.”

I remained calm. “I didn’t take it seriously. I figured it was another one of those cheap tricks someone came up with for a laugh.”

His frustration mounted. “Then what is all this? Are you and Grandpa trying to force me into marrying you?”

I frowned.

“Benedict, what nonsense are you spouting now?

“I’m getting engaged to Theodore. He’ll be here any moment,” I said firmly.

Benedict scoffed. “He’s still abroad. How exactly is he going to show up and get engaged?”

Without another word, he grabbed my hand against my will and began dragging me toward the main hall.

“Come on. I’ll help you announce the cancellation of this engagement. If there’s backlash, I’ll take full responsibility. You just need to stay silent.”

I stared at him in disbelief and tried to yank my hand free.

“Benedict, are you insane? It’s been three whole years. I’m finally about to marry the man I love! Who are you to tell me to call it off?”

Tears of frustration sprang to my eyes. I had waited too long for Theodore.

Secret love was its own form of torture, and I didn’t want to wait any longer.

When our eyes locked, Benedict froze.

He saw the tears on my face, then glanced down at the suit he’d worn without thinking, the one that just happened to match mine.

A bitter smile tugged at his lips.

He stepped closer, gently raised a hand to brush away the tear slipping down my cheek.

“Don’t cry, Sansa. I’ll marry you.”

But before his fingers could reach me, a hand seized his wrist in a tight grip.

Benedict turned sharply.

It was Theodore.

He wore a calm smile, but the pressure of his fingers on Benedict’s wrist could make bones crack.

His eyes were calm but sharp as blades.

“Benedict,” he said quietly, “why are you harassing Sansa again?”

Then, more sternly, “Come on—apologize to your future sister-in-law.”