Stolen Victory

The second Sloan Patrick saw me, panic flashed in her eyes. She recovered almost instantly, replacing it with a polite, distant smile as she held out her hand.

"Hello, Mr. Davidson. I'm Flynn's fiancee, Sloan Patrick."

Then she turned to Flynn, her voice gentle but firm. "Flynn, don't say that. You and I have been engaged for a long time. You're the only man I'm going to marry."

The comments exploded.

[Here we go! The villain is about to whip out their chat history and make a scene!]

[Fifty cents says he starts crying in the next five seconds!]

I gripped the hem of my shirt, my fingertips ice-cold.

I managed a faint smile at Sloan. My voice was quiet but steady. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Patrick."

The comments froze for several seconds.

[That's it? He's not going to make a scene?]

[He's faking it. Just wait. He's saving the big move for later. Classic playing-hard-to-get routine.]

Sloan clearly hadn't expected that either. She glanced at me, a warning in her eyes beneath the scrutiny.

Flynn tilted his head. His eyes were still red, his voice soft and innocent. "Cullen, are you really giving up the engagement?"

My gaze drifted to the brooch pinned to Sloan's chest. I'd given it to her for our third anniversary. When she'd put it on, she had smiled and promised to wear it to every important occasion from then on.

I looked away. "Yes."

Another wave of comments flooded my vision.

[Keep pretending! Just wait. He'll corner the heroine in private later and cry his eyes out!]

Our mother, Diana Davidson, quickly stood to smooth things over, smiling as she reached for my arm. "All right, that's enough. Let's sit down and eat."

At the dinner table, Mom put a rib on Flynn's plate before turning to me with a smile. "Cullen, you said you have a girlfriend. What does she do? Bring her home sometime so your father and I can meet her."

Every pair of eyes at the table landed on me.

Sloan's fingers tightened around her fork until her knuckles turned white. Her expression had gone tense.

I glanced at her, then lowered my eyes to my plate. "We met online. But I'm planning to break up with her."

The comments immediately went wild.

[See? There it is! He's already taking passive-aggressive shots at her!]

[Just wait. Next, he'll pull out their chat history and play the victim!]

Mom paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. "Why would you break up with her out of nowhere?"

I finished chewing and swallowed before answering quietly, "She got engaged to someone else."

The table fell so silent that the clink of silverware against plates seemed deafening.

Flynn reacted quickly. He put a shrimp on my plate with an elegant smile. "Don't be upset, Cullen. Try this. It's my favorite."

Sloan lifted a hand as though she meant to stop him, then abruptly pulled it back.

I stared at the shrimp on my plate and frowned. "I'm allergic to shrimp."

Flynn's face went pale. His eyes immediately filled with tears. "Cullen, do you dislike me that much?"

Mom's expression darkened too. "Flynn has never served food to anyone before. Don't ruin the moment."

Our father, Mitchell Davidson, set down his fork, impatience creeping into his voice. "How serious can a shrimp allergy be? You'll get used to it if you eat it often enough. Just eat it. Don't embarrass Flynn."

Everyone at the table stared coldly at me, as if I were the one being unreasonable.

Sloan glanced at me, her voice carrying an unmistakable edge of pressure. "A little won't hurt you. We have a private doctor on call."