A Cold Gaze

Selena’s POV

There was a time when Luca loved me.

He was the eldest of my four brothers, my protector, my biggest fan. He used to sneak me little gifts: the worn-out teddy bear I still clung to during sleepless nights, and the sketchbook he secretly bought me when I told him I wanted to be an actress.

But now… all of that felt like it had been a lifetime ago. Whatever warmth had once existed in his eyes was long gone, replaced by something bitter and cold. Olivia had taken everything. His affection. His loyalty. And with them, my place in his heart.

Fighting Luca was useless. I knew he’d drag me to that wedding whether I wanted to go or not. So I would endure it, just until I could escape.

I slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, desperate for a moment of peace.

Twenty minutes later, Luca’s car pulled into the underground garage of the HMP Grand Hotel, one of the most luxurious in the entire country. Luca didn’t say a word the whole drive.

As I stepped out of the car and into the glittering marble foyer, I could feel the shift in the air. Eyes turned toward me. Curious, some wide with recognition. Whispers buzzed around me like a swarm of hornets.

“Is that… the ex-con Ashford girl?”

“She is. Who even let her in?”

“She looks so thin…”

“Well, what did you expect? Her sins are catching up to her. The Harrington girl’s still in a coma because of her.”

“Honestly, I wish she’d died in prison.”

The words hit like invisible needles. I tried to tune them out, but they wrapped around me like a second skin. No matter what I did, no matter how many shifts I worked or how many times I swallowed my pride, I would always be the adopted daughter, the outsider. The convict. The problem.

While Olivia? Olivia was the golden child. The one they “found,” sickly and helpless in some godforsaken orphanage. The miracle.

Sometimes I wondered if she was really even their daughter. Had they ever done a DNA test? Or were they so desperate to love someone else that it didn’t matter who she was?

I was scanning the hall for somewhere, just anywhere to sit, when he appeared.

Mateo, my once-promising lover turned betrayer. The man who’d held my hands and told me he loved me, while feeding me to the wolves. The one who’d coaxed me into signing a confession I didn’t even understand, promising he’d marry me when I got out of prison only to go behind me and engage my sister, now stood here in a tuxedo.

I felt the heat rise under my skin.

One day, I promised myself, you’ll be the one on your knees, Mateo Blackwood. And I’ll make sure you never forget what you did to me.

“Selena, thank goodness you made it,” he said, his voice soft, almost sweet.

I didn’t even look at him. I brushed past him and sat down at the nearest table.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his polite smile twitch, like he was trying to figure out how to save face. He turned slightly toward the room, no doubt aware of the stares. “Your sister’s in the dressing room. Would you like to see her?”

My hand slammed against the table before I even thought about it. My voice came out low and sharp. “Get away from me.”

There was a sharp intake of breath nearby, gasps from guests. My words had drawn attention, and his smile twisted just slightly at the edges, his jaw tightening before he spoke again. “My sister-in-law’s not in the mood. Prison changes people, you know.”

A few guests laughed behind their champagne glasses.

I dug my nails into my palms, letting the pain ground me, dulling the fire in my chest. I hated him more than anyone alive.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. “You’ll regret this.”

And just like that, he pulled away, straightened his suit jacket, and waved casually to a few guests like nothing had happened.

I wasn’t scared. Not of him. Not of this place. I just hated being here, among these people who watched me like I was filth smeared across their perfect floor.

Suddenly, the priest’s voice echoed across the vast ballroom, announcing the start of the ceremony.

I didn’t move. I just watched.

Olivia floated into view like a doll, draped in an impossibly large white gown. Her face was powdered pale and glowing, and every detail screamed perfection. Bridesmaids surrounded her like satellites orbiting a star.

From the other side, Mateo entered, striking in his tuxedo. His eyes locked on Olivia with practiced devotion. The crowd clapped and cheered as they made their way toward the ornate seats at the front.

Then a sharp voice pierced the moment.

“Selena, why are you wearing such cheap clothes to your sister’s wedding?”

I turned. My mother.

Her lips were pursed, and her eyes scanned me from head to toe, her tone clipped and loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

“I wore what I have,” I said evenly, not bothering to defend myself further.

Her mouth tightened, eyes flashing like she was embarrassed to even be seen near me. “Selena, you could’ve asked for money. You’re deliberately trying to shame this family. Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”

A woman nearby snorted. “She’s not even worthy of being an Ashford.”

My mother, Mrs. Ashford, lifted her chin. “She’s still my daughter. I won’t deny her the chance to be here.”

I let out a cold laugh. Like I wanted to be here.

“You never gave me money. Not once since Olivia came back five years ago. No allowance. No help. I work to survive.”

“That’s a lie,” she snapped. “Luca handles the finances. He’s deposited thousands into your account every month, even when you were in prison.”

I smiled bitterly. “Ask him yourself. I haven’t seen a cent. I scrub toilets and floors to buy food. I didn’t start this war. You did.”

She blinked, her face reddening. Maybe for the first time, she wondered if I was telling the truth.

“I’ll speak to him later,” she muttered. “But for now, stay here and don’t cause trouble. The Harringtons are here today. Remember, you’re on their blacklist. You put their daughter in a coma. If they see you, they’ll kill you.”

I laughed, dry and humorless. “So when they call family members forward, I’m not even allowed to stand? Don’t worry. I’ll stay out of sight. I don’t consider myself part of this family anymore. And soon, I’ll make that official.”

“Stop this nonsense,” she hissed. “Crime or not, you’ll always be my daughter.”

Like she didn’t know Mateo had forced me into a false confession. Like she didn’t stand by while my life was being destroyed in court that year.

She turned and walked off.

Once, she’d held me in her arms during a fever and whispered that everything would be okay. But that love had been fleeting. When Olivia appeared, fragile, beautiful and oh-so-perfect, my mother’s warmth had shifted. Her heart didn’t have room for both of us.

A murmur rolled through the crowd then, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked up.

Someone was watching me. A cold gaze met mine from across the room, sharp and unreadable. And for the first time that day, something inside me stirred.