The Christmas He Lost Her

The crowd roared as Leon Fabian clasped a two-million-dollar gemstone bracelet around the wrist of a nightclub hostess—Chloe Sutton.

Not long ago, he'd chased that same bracelet at any price for me.

"Wynne, happy birthday. Let this be your present. Sound good?"

He'd said it with that smug, confident smile.

Now the bracelet glittered on the wrist of a girl he'd met five minutes ago.

A sharp ache spread through my chest.

Leon caught my expression and casually pulled out a necklace, tossing it my way.

"Bad luck. The bracelet was the winner's prize. But you behaved tonight, so here's your reward."

The pendant was a gemstone too.

Just flawed.

The second it touched my skin, the rough edge dug in. My eyes stung.

Chloe drifted over, a glass of wine in hand.

Then she "stumbled."

The full glass of red splashed straight across my face.

The room went dead quiet.

For five years, every side chick who won the draw pulled the same stunt.

And every time, I'd lost it like a maniac—once badly enough to land myself in the hospital.

Chloe dropped at Leon's feet. Her dress slipped low, eyes glossy with tears.

"Mrs. Fabian, I didn't mean to! You can throw a hundred—no, a thousand—glasses at me. Just please don't hurt me!"

Leon's throat bobbed.

He stepped in front of her instantly, shielding her like I was about to lunge.

I paused.

Then I pulled out a tissue and wiped the wine off my face.

"Relax. I never said I'd blame you. Those heels are brutal. No wonder you couldn't stay upright. I'll have my assistant bring you another pair."

Leon stiffened. One brow lifted.

The assistant hurried over with a pair of flats. I crouched and slipped them onto Chloe myself.

My fingers brushed her bare neck.

I unclasped my necklace and fastened it around her throat.

"Jewelry belongs on a beauty. When you have Christmas Eve dinner with Leon's grandmother, at least you'll look the part."

Chloe looked flattered.

Leon frowned. Irritation flashed across his face.

"Wynne Wronski, who said you could give something I bought you to an outsider?"

"How is she an outsider? Would you take an outsider to Christmas Eve dinner with your grandmother?"

Leon went quiet. His gaze turned dark, unreadable.

The wine-soaked fabric clung cold against my skin.

"Excuse me. I need to change."

As I walked away, I could feel his eyes burning into my back.

The second the bedroom door shut, everything I'd been holding in crashed down. My chest tightened, wave after wave.

I changed quickly.

My phone buzzed.

Bernard. My older brother.

[Wynne, he won't take you to the family estate for Christmas again this year. You lost. Come home with me.]

My eyes burned. Tears slid down my face.

Before I could reply, a pair of hands suddenly settled on my waist.