Consequences

I hated galas.

Too many people, too much noise, and far too many unwritten rules nobody bothered explaining.

"Stop pulling at your dress," Victor murmured beside me.

"It's uncomfortable."

"You look beautiful."

"That doesn't make it comfortable."

He smiled, a quiet flash of warmth in his sharp military posture, and offered his arm.

I’d agreed to step into this high-society shark tank for one reason: Brandon needed the mutated milk thistle Madam Marsh had promised, and I wasn't leaving without it.

The moment we entered the grand ballroom, camera shutters flashed like blinding lightning.

Noah Sterling approached through the crowd, looking annoyingly handsome in a tailored black suit.

"Hello, fiancé," I greeted.

A low laugh escaped him. "Getting used to the title?"

"Not particularly."

"Neither am I."

He offered his arm, and I took it after receiving a reluctant, protective nod from Victor.

"Let's get this over with," I muttered.

"Such enthusiasm," Noah murmured, his eyes crinkling. "I'm touched."

His playful familiarity made a sudden knot tighten in my stomach. It felt surreal how naturally he stepped into the role. Yet as we moved through the room, I noticed he never actually touched me—not even for the eager photographers crowding the stage. He hovered close enough to present a united front while giving me complete physical space.

Part of me felt immense relief and respect for his restraint. But deep down, a quiet contradiction flickered—a frustrating part of me almost wished he would flirt, just to break through the polite fiction between us.

Madam Marsh stepped onto the stage alongside the Sterling family patriarch. The formal announcement was mercifully brief, but the spoken words sent a sharp spike of irritation straight through me.

The Marsh and Sterling families are delighted to announce the betrothal of Jasmine Marsh and Noah Sterling.

My polite smile vanished.

Jasmine Marsh?

Hayes was the surname Victor had given me when my brothers brought me into their home. I had no intention of abandoning it just because a bunch of strangers had discovered who my biological father was.

We would definitely be discussing that later.

As the elder Sterling stepped back, Noah walked up to the microphone. The room fell silent as he raised his glass.

"Thank you, everyone, for joining us tonight," Noah spoke into the mic, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hall. "I want to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude to Miss Jasmine Hayes for honoring us with her presence—and for accepting me."

A subtle murmur rippled through the high-society crowd at his intentional choice of words, but applause quickly erupted.

Noah stepped off the stage and rejoined me.

"Thank you," I said softly as the crowd began to mingle again. "For using my real name."

Noah looked down at me, his eyes entirely sincere. "I would never try to change who you are, Jasmine. You are a Hayes."

The quiet respect in his tone caught me off guard, sending a warm, unfamiliar ripple through my chest.

"Still alive?" he whispered, offering a faint smile.

"Barely."

When photographers demanded another picture, Noah extended a hand to guide my path instead of pulling me toward him, leaving me to process the quiet pull I was starting to feel.

The photographers had barely left when my phone buzzed with a link from Nathan.

NOAH STERLING ENGAGED TO CONTROVERSIAL MARSH HEIRESS

A tabloid had already published our engagement photos alongside details of my disqualification from the International Military Training Campaign. One paragraph caught my eye:

Vivienne Marsh reportedly submitted earlier drafts of the disputed research as evidence of primary authorship.

Those were mine.

Ethan was the only person who had ever held access to my preliminary encrypted folders. We had prepared our applications side-by-side, and I had trusted him enough to let him review my work. He hadn't just stolen the final paper—he had handed over my entire draft history to Vivienne.

Noah caught the sudden shift in my posture. "Something wrong?"

"Vivienne has my earlier drafts," I said, my voice dangerously low. "My ex gave them to her."

His dark eyes narrowed. "Can you prove it?"

"Not the leak. Not yet. But I can prove who actually conducted the research."

"I can have my publicist contact the magazine," he offered.

"No, thank you. I'll handle it."

He smiled faintly. "Just remember I'm on your side."

Before I could reply, Madam Marsh glided toward us with an elegantly dressed woman.

"Jasmine, I'd like you to meet Sophia Marsh," she introduced smoothly. "Vivienne's mother."

Sophia offered a tight, plastic smile. "Congratulations on your engagement. Vivienne will be delighted to know Cesar is still available."

Vivienne could have Cesar all she wanted. She just needed to leave my work alone.

Noah picked up my hand, pressed a light, formal kiss to my knuckles, and slipped gracefully into the crowd.

I turned to face the two women. "Actually, there's something I'd like to discuss with you both."

"About Vivienne?" Sophia asked, her eyebrows arching condescendingly.

"Your daughter has been claiming my research as hers," I said quietly. "I have the original field records and video-recorded interview transcripts."

Sophia’s smile vanished. "Vivienne has documented drafts proving her process. Be careful about throwing around wild accusations, Jasmine."

"They aren't wild," I replied evenly. "I know how she got those drafts. My ex-boyfriend gave her unauthorized access. But a draft doesn't prove she stood in the field, and it doesn't prove she did the work."

Sophia folded her arms. "Are you threatening to drag my daughter's name through the mud over a misunderstanding?"

"It isn't a misunderstanding. It's theft," I said cleanly. "I'm giving the Marsh family an opportunity to issue a quiet statement acknowledging that my work is under official military review, so we can let the evidence speak for itself."

"And if we refuse?" Sophia sneered. "Do you understand what a scandal like this could do to Vivienne's standing?"

"I understand she built her standing on a lie," I said calmly. "And I am simply stating the truth. If you won't correct the record, I will release the primary source evidence myself."

Sophia squared her shoulders, her face flushing with anger. She opened her mouth, clearly about to unleash a furious retort, when Madam Marsh reached out and gripped her arm with sharp authority.

Madam Marsh leaned in and whispered a few hurried words directly into Sophia's ear. Whatever she said, the effect was instantaneous—the color drained from Sophia’s face, leaving her visibly pale as her mouth snapped shut.

"It's s your choice," I said, turning on my heel.

"Jasmine," Sophia called out, her voice lacking its previous venom, edged instead with an uneasy tightness. "Don't make enemies of your own blood."

I looked back over my shoulder. "I didn't start a fight with your family, Sophia. Your daughter came into my life and took what belonged to me. I'm just taking it back."

I slipped away to a quiet balcony and checked my appeal status online: Pending Review.

I quickly drafted messages to the expert sources cited in my paper, asking if they would publicly verify who had interviewed them.

The replies flooded back within minutes:

Jasmine, I've never even met Vivienne Marsh. You were the only researcher who interviewed me.

Another primary source replied:

I still have all our original email logs. I'll clarify this publicly right now.

I drafted a direct press statement denying the plagiarism, clarifying that Vivienne's drafts were obtained without authorization, and referencing the verified primary sources. I attached the timestamped interview clips and published it to my account, forwarding the link straight to the tabloid editor.

By the time I returned to the ballroom, Noah was waiting near the bar with two drinks.

"Would you like to dance?"

"Is it compulsory?"

"No."

"Then I'd prefer something to drink."

He laughed and led me toward a quieter table. Time went faster than i expected, Noah made me feel comfortable and at ease, he was the perfect companion, distracting me when i reached my limit as I was introduced to everyone around. He was telling me an embarrassing story about his very first acting audition when my phone buzzed.

The lead researchers I interviewed had posted public statements confirming my work. Within twenty minutes, the tabloid updated its lead banner:

RESEARCH SOURCES QUESTION PLAGIARISM CLAIMS AGAINST NOAH STERLING'S FIANCÉE

Moments later, an official notification flashed at the top of my phone screen directly from the International Military Training Campaign portal:

Applicant Jasmine Hayes: Your appeal review has concluded. Primary research authorship verified.

Simultaneously, the military program's official social media accounts published a public statement:

[OFFICIAL NOTICE: MILITARY TRAINING CAMPAIGN]

Following an expedited review of raw timestamped data and primary source verifications, the board has confirmed Jasmine Hayes as the sole original author of the disputed intelligence research paper. The prior plagiarism allegations against Miss Hayes have been formally retracted.

"Good news?" Noah asked, watching my face.

"Fully cleared," I murmured, staring at the official seal on my screen.

Before I could lock my phone, a second public broadcast went live from the program's official handle.

[DISCIPLINARY ACTIONS RELEASE]

Effective immediately, candidate Vivienne Marsh has been terminated and dismissed from the International Military Training Campaign, as the research submitted for her entry was confirmed not to be her own work.

Additionally, candidate Ethan Campbell has been permanently barred from the program due to severe conduct violations during initial intake, a demonstrated lack of integrity, and failure to meet basic performance and behavioral expectations.

I stared at the screen for a long second, a wry, disbelieving laugh escaping my throat.

Barred for his attitude and failing expectations on day one? What on earth had Ethan managed to do in less than three days to get himself thrown out that fast?