Chapter 2

The misplaced Heiress

Gabriell approached her carefully, fingers fidgeting with the cuff of his suit jacket as though he were the uncomfortable one.

“Elle,” he said softly.

The tenderness in his voice made her stomach turn.

Of course he sounded gentle. He always had. It was how he’d gotten his way for years—so calm, so patient, so impossibly kind that she’d never thought to question it.

Only now did she realize acting was second nature to him; it was a part of his charm after all. Performance for the people—including her.

She didn’t bother answering, instead she stared at the man who’d just shattered more than her heart, and he knew it too.

A second later, Mia stepped forward, resting a hand on Gabriell’s shoulder in what seemed to be a practiced gesture. It no longer surprised Miaelle because she always caught her doing it each time she thought Miaelle wasn’t looking.

“Gabe,” Mia whispers, voice low and shaky enough to sound vulnerable, “let me handle this.”

“Handle this?” Miaelle’s gaze shifted to her, disbelief edging at her conscience.

“No,” Gabriell interrupted sharply. His hand moved to cover Mia’s, thumb brushing over her skin in a manner so practiced, so intimate, that something inside Miaelle finally cracked.

“We’ll do it together,” he said steadily.

Despite herself, Miaelle smiled at the couple before her. “Together.” She repeated.

Of course they would do it together. She had never been the woman Gabriell chose to stand beside. Even now, with the entire ballroom watching, the only “together” that existed was between him and Mia.

Meanwhile, around them conversations had died. The ballroom buzzed with quiet whispers as guests pretended not to stare while stealing glances anyway.

Gabriell took a hesitant step forward. “Elle, please—” He said with feigned hurt, stretching his free hand towards her in a pathetic attempt to caress her face.

Miaelle didn’t give him the satisfaction of making contact. She jerked away instantly. The movement so sharp it was almost violent.

He had no right to touch, she looked him dead in the eyes before deliberately dropping her cold gaze to where he still stroked Mia’s.

For a brief second, genuine hurt flashed across his face accompanied by what seemed like regret. But it disappeared just as fast as it came.

Interesting. She thought to herself. So he still had a semblance of remorse after all.

“Can we at least do this somewhere private?” Gabriell asked quietly.

But it wasn’t a request. It was a command wrapped in courtesy. Of course it was.

In the past, she would have agreed. She had spent years avoiding scenes, swallowing hurt, protecting his reputation and his rising status.

Not today.

“No.”

Gabriell blinked.

“No?”

“You brought this into public,” she said calmly. “So explain it publicly.”

A tense silence settled over the ballroom.

For the first time since approaching her, Gabriell looked genuinely shaken. Not by her words, but by her composure. By the fact that she wasn’t crying. Wasn’t pleading. Wasn’t making this easier for him.

His eyes swept over her then. The obsidian dress sparkling in the lights, the carefully styled hair and the heels he’d once told her were his favorite.

For a split second, something unreadable crossed his face. But before he could speak, Mia swallowed hard.

“Elle,” she said softly, “things aren’t what they seem.”

Miaelle let out a breathless laugh. Yeah right. Things weren’t what they seemed—The oldest line in existence.

“Oh?” she asked quietly, tilting her head as she studied Mia as though she were seeing her for the first time.

“Then tell me,” she finally said. Her gaze jumped to Gabriell. “What exactly do they seem like?”

Neither of them answered. And somehow, that silence hurt more than anything they could have said.

Because in that awful, unbearable pause, every moment from the last few months came rushing back.

The cancelled dates. The unanswered calls. Gabriell pulling away whenever she tried to get closer. Mia telling her to be patient. Mia defending him. A particular memory resurfaced.

Three weeks ago. She had spent an hour crying in Mia’s apartment because Gabriell had canceled their anniversary dinner.

Mia had held her hand. Told her he was probably just stressed. Told her that men expressed love differently—that if she loved him, she had to trust him.

And then another— earlier that evening. Mia helped her pick out tonight’s dress. “He’ll love it,” she’d smiled and said.

God.

Miaelle felt sick.

Her gaze drifted to Mia.

One thing Miaelle had always known was that she and Mia shared an uncanny resemblance.

Not enough for anyone to mistake them for sisters. But enough that people had commented on it before.

The height. The shape of their noses. The cadence of their voices—the similarity in names. Even the way they smiled sometimes.

Of course, there were differences.

Mia’s skin was a shade lighter. Her features were sharper, more polished. She carried herself with the effortless confidence of someone who had never doubted she belonged in every room she entered.

Miaelle wore glasses. Her figure was softer, curvier. Her smile came easier, but her confidence never had—or at least that’s what she led them to believe.

She and Mia had laughed about the resemblance before.

Standing there now, watching Gabriell’s hand remain firmly wrapped around Mia’s, Miaelle wondered if perhaps it had never been funny at all.

Maybe that’s why he chose her. Not because Mia was different. Because she was better.

A prettier version. A wealthier version. A more polished version. A version of Miaelle that Gabriell had never had to settle for.

The thought shook something inside her.

“You proposed to me,” she whispered. Her eyes found Gabriell’s. “You asked me to marry you.”

His expression faltered. “I do care about you Elle,” he said carefully.

Care.

Not love.

Miaelle noticed the distinction immediately. And judging by the silence that swept through the ballroom, so did everyone else.

A tear finally slipped down her cheek.

Mia looked devastated.

Miaelle found she no longer cared. Because betrayal from an enemy hurt, but from the two people you trusted most?

That destroyed you.

Miaelle could feel the tears burning behind her eyes. She refused to let them fall. Not yet.

And then Gabriell opened his mouth and said the one thing that shattered whatever remained of her composure.