Scorched Apocalypse: Abandoned for a Bottle of Water

"To Marcus and Cassie," someone called out, and the sea of champagne flutes lifted in unison like a choreographed wave. The sound of glass clinking filled the air in celebration, each clink another nail in the coffin of Cassie's composure.

The crystal chandeliers of the Grand Rosewood Ballroom cast a thousand rays across three hundred of Manhattan's most influential faces, and Cassie Reeves thought she might vomit all over her Vera Wang engagement gown.

She stood beside Marcus Hale at the head table, her hand resting in the crook of his elbow because that's what fiancées did at engagement parties. Right?

They smiled and they glowed and pretended the weight of a three carat diamond didn't feel like a shackle around their ring finger.

But Marcus's jaw was stiff. She'd noticed it an hour ago when his mother Eleanor had made that comment about "finally settling down with someone appropriate," but she'd written it off as typical Hale family tension.

The Hales were old money, the kind that came with expectations and a spreadsheet for emotions. That was the first thing Marcus warned her about when they started dating three years ago.

"You look beautiful tonight," her mother whispered from her left, reaching over to squeeze Cassie's free hand. Margaret Reeves had tears in her eyes and she carried the air of pride mothers got when their daughters were about to marry into empires.

Cassie managed to smile. "Thanks, Mom."

Across the table, her father Richard sat with his phone face down beside his plate, which meant he was actually present for once. The merger between Reeves Capital and Hale Industries had consumed the last six months of both families' lives, and tonight was supposed to be the social seal on a business deal that would reshape Manhattan's financial landscape.

Just then, Marcus cleared his throat and the room fell quiet instantly because again, that's what happened when a Hale wanted attention.

Generations of wealth and influence had trained society to listen to them.

"Thank you all for being here tonight," Marcus began. He looked good in his Tom Ford tux, dark hair perfectly styled. His striking gorgeousness came from good genes and better skincare. She didn't need to worry about her kids' face cards.

"Cassie and I are grateful for your support as we begin this new chapter together."

Cassie's smile felt like it was cracking at the edges. Something was off. Marcus's hand had gone rigid under hers and his voice was smooth and controlled as if he was in a boardroom and not his engagement party.

"I need to be honest with everyone here," Marcus continued, and the room leaned in. "I need to be honest with myself."

Cassie's eyes shone as she looked up to his face as he spoke. She couldn't help but wonder if he had a surprise for her. Photographers were stationed at every corner because of course there were photographers, this was the society event of the season.

"I can't marry Cassie," Marcus said, and the words landed like a grenade in the center of the room. "Because I'm in love with someone else."

S

The collective gasp was almost comedic. If Cassie hadn't been the punchline, she might have appreciated the theatrical timing.

Her mother's hand went slack in hers and her father's jaw tightened.

But Cassie… she was numb with no reaction. She just stood there, frozen and trying to digest while her world imploded in real-time.

"I'm in love with Vanessa Laurent," Marcus continued, turning to look directly at the table where Cassie's best friend since sophomore year of college sat with her mouth open in what looked like “What the fuck?!”

"I have been in love with her for months. I'm sorry, Cassie. I'm sorry to everyone, but I can't start a marriage based on a lie."

The room erupted.

Voices overlapped, some sounded shaken and some delighted because nothing fed the society gossip machine like a public disaster. Cameras flashed, bright and blinding. Someone's phone was definitely up and recording because that's what people did now, they documented tragedy for content.

And Cassie still couldn't move. She could barely even breathe. She couldn't process the fact that Marcus had just annihilated her in front of everyone who mattered in their world. And for Vanessa!

Vanessa stood slowly from her table, her red dress vibrant against the cream and gold decor. She looked at Cassie with something that might have been regret or might have been pity, Cassie couldn't tell through the ringing in her ears.

Marcus stepped away from Cassie and walked across the ballroom like he was in a movie and this was romantic instead of devastating.

He took Vanessa's hand, pulled off the ring on his finger and slipped it on hers.

That was the moment Cassie's heart actually broke. Not when Marcus said he didn't love her but when her best friend, the girl who'd held her hair back during college parties and cried with her through her grandmother's funeral and been her maid of honor at a wedding that was now never going to happen, didn't pull away.

"Cassandra," her father said quietly, using her full name the way he only did in business meetings. "Let's go."

But Cassie's legs wouldn't cooperate.

Someone near the back shouted a question about the merger and someone else laughed. A photographer stepped closer and the flash went off directly in Cassie's face.

That broke the spell. Cassie ran.

She didn't care that running in four-inch heels was a death wish or that her dress cost more than most people's monthly rent and was now a blurred white obstacle around her legs. She didn't care that every single person in that ballroom was watching her flee like a wounded animal.

She just needed out.

The hallway outside the ballroom was blessedly empty, all the staff inside serving or recording history being made. Cassie's heels stumped frantically against the floor until she found a door, any door, and shoved it open.

But it was a coat room. Perfect!

She stumbled inside, slammed the door behind her, and locked it with shaking hands. The room smelled like expensive wool and cedar, racks of fur lining the walls because even the coats at a Hale event were worth more than cars.

Cassie braced herself against the door and tried to remember how to breathe.

In through the nose, out through the mouth.

In through the nose, out through—

But it wasn't working.

A sob tore out of her throat before she could stop it.

In seconds, everywhere went blur and she was sliding down the door until she hit the floor.