LOGINNew York woke up to the story before sunrise. The first articles appeared while most of the city was still asleep, posted by entertainment blogs and society columns whose editors had clearly been tipped off the night before and had spent the dark hours preparing their copy. By the time morning commuters were checking their phones on the train, the headline was everywhere. HARGROVE HEIR CALLS OFF WEDDING. SOCIALITE BRIDE ACCUSED OF INFIDELITY. HARGROVE FAMILY SILENT AFTER SHOCK ENGAGEMENT COLLAPSE. The internet filled in every blank it could find with rumor, half-truth, and creative invention, like always whenever something scandalous landed in its lap. People who had liked Lena’s engagement announcement posts were now sharing the scandal articles. The comment sections were already hundreds of entries deep before eight o’clock in the morning. The Hargrove estate still had the same carefully maintained facade that the Hargrove name had maintained for decades. Workers moved throu
The silence that followed was deafening. Nobody moved or made a sound. Lena’s breathing had become audible from across the room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said finally. Her voice was too high to sound convincing. “I don’t know why you’re here. Please leave. You’re making a scene and I’m asking you to please just leave.” “No,” he said. “You’re embarrassing yourself—” “You’re the one who should be embarrassed,” he said. “You promised me you were going to end things with him. You told me your relationship was basically over. You said he barely touched you anymore, that things between the two of you had stopped working a long time ago.” He looked at her steadily. “You kept coming to me. For months. And the second you realized you had gotten what you needed, you blocked my number.” Vivienne had stood up from the sofa without seeming to realize it. “What,” she said, very slowly, “is he talking about, Lena?” Lena was crying now, tears running down her face silent
The Hargrove estate had transformed completely over the past weeks. Wedding planners moved through the hallways carrying clipboards and speaking in low voices to each other. Florists had set up a temporary display along the dining room wall, sample arrangements in varying sizes and colors, white peonies beside ivory roses that Vivienne had pointed at three separate times while saying yes, exactly that, but fuller. Garment bags hung from doors and chair backs throughout the ground floor. Invitation mockups were spread across the dining table in rows. Vivienne moved through all of it like she had been waiting her entire life for this moment. She had a tablet in one hand and strong opinions about everything. “The peonies on the left arrangement are too open,” she told the lead florist without stopping walking. “They need to be tighter. This is a Hargrove wedding.” She moved on before the florist could respond. She had begun referring to Lena as my daughter sometime in the past week
Mara’s POV I went to Nadia’s place that evening instead of staying home. I brought food from the place two streets over that she always said she was going to order from and then never did because she forgot about it when she was working. We ate dinner, and the conversation was easy and light for a while. Then I set my fork down. “I need to tell you something,” I said. Nadia looked up. “What happened?” I told her all of it. Dorian outside my building. The way he looked. The apology he claimed to owe her, his request for five minutes. Nadia listened without interrupting. “Then he said something really weird, but I figured he was lying.” I continued. “And I’m only telling you because I think you should know what he said.” I paused. “He said Lena’s baby isn’t his.” Silence. Nadia slowly set her fork down. “He said that?” she asked. “He did.” There was a long silence. Then Nadia said, very quietly, “I believe him.” I stared at her. “What?” She leaned back in her chair, som
Mara POV I saw the headline on the entertainment site I had open on my own phone, which loaded automatically when I unlocked it. HARGROVE HEIR DORIAN HARGROVE TO MARRY LENA WHITMORE. COUPLE EXPECTING THEIR FIRST CHILD. I stared at it for a few seconds, standing in the middle of the parking lot. Then I put my phone in my bag and walked the rest of the way to Nadia’s work place. Nadia was already at her desk when I arrived, sketching like someone who had been at it for a while. Her coffee was half finished beside her, already gone slightly cold as always whenever she got absorbed in something. I stood in the doorway for a second, trying to read her without her noticing me staring. “Have you seen the news?” I asked. She didn’t look up immediately. “I have.” “You have?” “It was the first thing I saw when I opened my phone this morning.” She set her pencil down then and looked up at me, a faint, unreadable smile on her face. “It’s everywhere.” I walked further into the studio, w
Dorian’s POV My mind had stopped working completely somewhere between my mother opening the envelope and the room erupting around me. One thought was moving through my head, very slowly underneath all the noise. How? Everyone was watching me. I knew that. I could feel it even through the chaos of congratulations happening around us. My mother. Lena’s parents. My father, standing slightly apart from it all, watching me quietly. I forced a smile. “I…” I said. “I wasn’t expecting this.” Lena laughed, relieved. “Neither was I, honestly. Not this soon.” She slipped her arms around my waist and looked up at me, waiting. Everyone was still watching. “Say something,” she said softly. I pressed my lips to her forehead. I held them there for a second longer than I needed to. “I’m ecstatic,” I said. Everyone smiled. The conversations restarted. Nobody noticed how rigid my arms were when I held her. Except my father. I could feel him watching me from across the room, his expressio
The university bell rang, signaling the start of the next period. Ariel stood in the hallway, frozen. She knew that right now, in a classroom just two buildings away, Luther was starting his lecture. Usually, she was the first one in her seat, eager to hear him speak. Even though he hurt her, she c
Ariel stared at him, her mouth slightly agape, completely taken aback. “Are you serious?” she breathed, unable to fully process the magnitude of his sudden change of heart. “Yeah. Invite him over for dinner or something. I’ll play nice. I promise.” A faint smile touched his lips. “Wow. That’s… I d
Ariel’s POV I should’ve known it would be one of those mornings. The kind where the universe conspires against you from the moment you open your eyes to find that your alarm never went off. The kind where your hair refuses to cooperate, your favorite shirt has a mysterious stain. Yeah, that kind of
Ariel lay sprawled on her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, but her mind was occupied with thoughts of him. Professor Luther. She squeezed her eyes shut, the very name making her face feel warm. This wasn’t just a small liking anymore. Her chest felt tight with every memory, every time he looked at







