Chapter 5

Later, the music swelled. Couples filled the dance floor, swirling under golden lights.

“Dance with me,” Adrian said, his hand extended.

Zara’s stomach dropped. “I’ll just embarrass you. And myself.”

He exhaled sharply, irritation clouding his features. “You already embarrassed me the day you agreed to take your sister’s place. What’s one more mistake?”

Her chest burned. She swallowed hard, slipped her hand into his, and stepped onto the floor.

The moment his hand settled at her waist, the world shrank to the steady rhythm of his movements. Zara kept her gaze locked on his shoulder, refusing to meet his piercing stare.

But then

Rip.

The sound was soft, but in the echoing hall, it may as well have been thunder. Gasps rippled across the floor. Zara froze, horror flooding her as she felt the zipper at her back give way.

Adrian reacted instantly. With one swift motion, he shrugged off his black coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, shielding her from hungry eyes and whispers.

His grip tightened on her arm. “We’re leaving,” he muttered, his tone like steel.

They left the ballroom quickly, Zara’s cheeks blazing with shame, Adrian’s expression unreadable.

The car ride back was suffocating. No words. Just silence louder than any scream. Zara’s heart pounded as she stared out the window, waiting for the explosion she knew was coming.

When they finally reached the penthouse, Adrian snapped.

“How dense can you be?” he spat, slamming the door behind them. “I told you not to force that dress. But you had to prove me right embarrassing yourself and dragging me down with you!”

Zara flinched, but stayed silent, her throat thick.

“No stakeholder will want to deal with me after this circus. And all because of your useless brain.” His voice was fire, every word striking like a whip. “Remember when someone said we looked like we were made in heaven? They were wrong. We were made in hell. And since you’ve decided your mission is to humiliate me, I’ll make sure your life becomes a living hell. You’ll wish you were never born.”

He stormed off, the slam of his door shaking the walls.

Zara stood frozen in the middle of the room. The weight of his words pressed her down until her knees buckled. She sank to the floor, her hands trembling.

No tears came. Just emptiness.

She sat there for what felt like forever, staring into nothing. The girl who once dreamed of love and laughter was gone, replaced by a hollow shadow in a red dress, wrapped in a coat that wasn’t hers. Isabella’s POV

“Mum, you called me in so late what’s going on? Couldn’t you have just told me over the phone?” Isabella asked, annoyance and concern lacing her voice as she stepped into her mother’s study.

Her mother’s expression was tight, sharp. “Isabella, we all know that girl lied her way into that marriage. Who knows? She might have forced her sister to leave. Fine, Adrian didn’t know Selene that well either, but at least they were familiar with each other. This… this girl just showed up without my approval! I wanted to see her intentions before she entered Adrian’s world.”

Isabella’s eyes widened. “Mum, that won’t be necessary at all! Can you just let the girl breathe? She’s… nice. She’s not planning anything against your ruthless son.”

Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unimpressed, but Isabella refused to back down. “Mum, is that all? I have things to do.” She turned to leave, hoping to check on Zara and make sure she had arrived safely, that no fight had broken out.

But as she stepped into a cab, her phone lit up with breaking news. The image on the screen made her stomach drop. Zara, covered with a coat, the back of her dress torn embarrassment and humiliation written across her posture, even under the protective fabric. Isabella’s breath caught. Horror filled her chest, knowing all too well the storm that had followed. She could already hear the echo of Adrian’s scornful words in her mind.

By the time she reached the penthouse, Isabella found Zara collapsed in her room, silent, rigid, staring at nothing. No tears rolled down her cheeks, but her sadness was palpably heavy, suffocating.

“My dear…” Isabella whispered, kneeling beside her. She pulled Zara into a gentle hug, feeling the girl’s trembling body. “That must have been horrible.”

Zara didn’t respond. She just let herself be held, her small frame sinking further into Isabella’s warmth.

“I know… he said bitter things,” Isabella continued softly, pressing her hand to Zara’s back. “I can only imagine what just happened. I’m so sorry, my dear. No one deserves that.”

Still, Zara said nothing. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes blank yet haunted. Isabella stayed with her, sitting on the edge of the bed, not wanting to leave, yet unsure how to console the girl who had been so thoroughly crushed not by strangers, not by fate, but by the man who was supposed to be her husband.

All night, Zara remained mute. Her mind swirled with shame, anger, and helplessness. Isabella watched, heartbroken, realizing that the one who should have offered comfort the man who had seen everything had instead turned her humiliation into more torment, sharpening his words until they cut deep.

And in that silence, Isabella understood: Zara was not only hurt but utterly alone, trapped in a world where her efforts to survive were met with cruelty instead of care. And that realization made Isabella’s own chest ache.

She reached out again, lightly brushing a strand of hair from Zara’s face. “It’s not fair,” she whispered. “You didn’t deserve this. No one would.”

Zara’s head tilted slightly, her eyes dark with the weight of shame and anger, but still, no words came. And Isabella sat with her through the night, holding on to the fragile hope that maybe, somehow, Zara would find a way to reclaim even a fraction of her dignity in the world that had treated her so cruelly.