Four

Chapter Four: I’m Prettier

Rhea’s POV

Leon’s eyes swept the hall like a silent command, sharp and furious, searching for the person bold enough to invite me. The crowd shifted uneasily under his scrutiny. Laughter dimmed. Conversations fractured into murmurs.

I noticed Lina shrink slightly, instinctively stepping behind another guest, her shoulders rounding as if she expected to be blamed. The sight twisted something in my chest.

Elara moved before Leon could speak.

She glided toward me with practiced grace, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Her smile was flawless, white, controlled, and entirely empty of warmth.

“You must be Rhea Vale,” she said smoothly. “I’m Elara Voss. Leon’s… old friend.”

Old friend. The euphemism tasted bitter.

“I’m sure he’s mentioned me.”

I met her gaze evenly. “I’m sure.”

Because the truth was, he rarely had. Not really. Only vague references. A shadow. A name without substance. A ghost I was never meant to compete with.

Her eyes flicked over my face, my hair, my posture. Measuring. Comparing.

“You know,” she said lightly, tilting her head, “people have told me before that we resemble each other. It’s almost uncanny.”

The laugh she gave chimed sharply, like glass struck too hard.

Leon’s jaw tightened. The resemblance, real or imagined, had always been his private sin. His unspoken justification.

Then Elara’s gaze dropped.

Her brows lifted theatrically. “Oh!”

The room stilled.

“We’re wearing the same shoes,” she said, her voice ringing clear. “These are the limited Midnight Nocturne heels, aren’t they? Only two pairs released.”

Every head turned.

I felt the weight of attention settle on my skin but refused to shrink beneath it. Slowly, deliberately, I looked at Leon. Then back at Elara.

“What a coincidence,” I said pleasantly. “Though I don’t see the resemblance everyone keeps insisting on.”

I smiled.

“I’m prettier.”

A gasp sliced through the silence.

Leon looked like he’d been struck. Color drained from his face, then surged back in a furious flush. Somewhere behind us, someone choked on a laugh.

That was when Mara Keaton decided to sink her claws in.

“Those can’t be real,” she said loudly, her voice sharp with relish. “Rhea’s just a small-town physician. No way she could afford authentic Nocturnes. They’re thirty thousand apiece.”

“Exactly,” another woman, Seren Holt, added quickly. “That’s more than she earns in a year. The replicas these days are impressive, though.”

The murmurs grew louder. Curious. Judgmental.

Even Leon’s expression shifted. Doubt crept in, subtle but unmistakable.

“Look at the confidence,” someone scoffed. “An orphan pretending she belongs among legacy bloodlines.”

“Fake shoes for a fake background,” Mara sneered. “And she thought she could be Luna? Delusional.”

Elara stepped forward again, her concern carefully curated.

“Rhea,” she said gently, “you don’t need to do this. Leon has never cared about material things. You don’t need counterfeit items to impress anyone.”

The implication hung heavy.

Unlike you, it whispered. Who needs money to feel worthy.

Leon moved closer, his voice low and angry. “What are you trying to prove? We’ll talk about this at home.”

I turned to him slowly. “Do you think they’re fake too?”

Silence.

That was my answer.

Lina tried desperately to intervene. “Maybe we should just, ”

“I should change my shoes?” I asked calmly, never breaking eye contact with Leon.

He exhaled sharply. “That would be best. Everyone’s staring. This is humiliating.”

Elara leaned in, sympathy dripping from every word. “Really, Rhea. Fake leather causes blisters. I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable.”

“Fake?” I repeated softly. “You seem very certain.”

Her smile faltered. “I, well, ”

“What makes you so sure only someone like you deserves the real thing?” I asked evenly.

She hesitated. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” I pressed. “First you worry about my comfort. Then you announce my shoes are counterfeit. You just want everyone to know yours are real and mine aren’t, don’t you?”

Leon snapped. “Enough, Rhea! Elara was trying to help. Why are you being aggressive?”

Elara waved her hand graciously. “It’s fine, Leon. She’s probably just overwhelmed.”

The name, spoken with familiarity, intimacy, hit harder than any insult.

Someone loudly suggested a drinking game to lighten the mood. The tension fractured.

Elara laughed and joined without hesitation, perfectly at ease, seamlessly reclaiming the room.

I retreated to a quieter corner, a glass of wine grounding me.

Leon followed.

“If you can’t afford luxury, don’t buy fakes,” he hissed. “You embarrassed me.”

I stared at him. “After three years, you still don’t know who I am?”

Reaching into my purse, I pulled out the receipt.

“Purchased today,” I said calmly. “Aurum Boutique. Thirty thousand. Here’s the statement.”

His face changed instantly. Shock. Embarrassment. Calculation.

“Where did you get that kind of money?” he demanded. “You’re just a doctor. And why didn’t you show this earlier?”

I slid the receipt back into my bag. “Didn’t feel the need.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but laughter erupted across the room.

“Next round!” someone shouted.

I used the interruption to walk away.

“I’m sorry,” Leon muttered weakly. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

I didn’t respond.

The game blurred past me. Laughter. Music. Glasses clinking.

Then I looked up.

Leon was watching Elara.

Not casually. Not politely.

He was watching her with raw, unguarded longing.

When someone pushed another drink toward her, his expression tightened.

She reached for it.

Leon surged to his feet, snatching the glass away. “You’re on your cycle. You can’t drink like that.”

The room fell silent.

Elara flushed. “Why do you care?”

“She’s done,” Leon said, his Alpha authority rolling outward like thunder. “Anyone who pressures her answers to me.”

No one challenged him.

Elara laughed, reaching playfully for the glass. He lifted it higher, and she stumbled, falling into his chest.

His arm wrapped around her automatically.

“Careful,” he murmured softly. “After all these years, your balance still hasn’t improved.”

She giggled, punching his chest lightly. “You’re awful.”

The room erupted in whistles.

Then Leon looked up.

Our eyes met.

The look I gave him could have frozen hell.

He dropped Elara instantly, stepping back as if burned. Murmurs exploded.

He navigated through the crowd and slid into the seat beside me.

“Hey,” he said, touching my knee. “You having fun?”

I sipped my wine. “It’s been enlightening.”

He laughed nervously, glancing around. “You seem quiet.”

“I’m learning,” I replied.

He leaned closer. “You don’t have anything to say about tonight?”

The challenge hung between us.

I smiled faintly. “Why would I?”

His eyes narrowed. “Nothing at all?”

I met his gaze, steady and cold.

“No,” I said. “Nothing.”

And for the first time, he looked afraid.