2

The next two weeks passed like a blur. Nathan disappeared. Not just from my life—but from the office at Elite casino as well.

People kept asking where he was. As if I, his supposed fiancée, should know. But I didn’t.

I still showed up to work every day. I wore heels and lipstick like the professional I was.

There was time I only allow myself to be sad in bathrooms, behind locked doors, when no one could see.

And just when I thought I could breathe, the internet found me. Somehow, they didn’t express any empathy for me, just pure hatred.

Every one of my posts, flooded.

“How does it feel watching your fiancé carry another woman out of your own party?”

“Were you the third wheel the whole time?”

“Nathan and Chloe are endgame. You were just the assistant.”

“Dreaming of marrying your boss? How pathetic.”

I deleted all of them and blocked them.

They came back the next day. And the next. Like weeds in spring.

But the worst part? None of it hurt as much as Nathan’s silence.

While I was busy deleting cruel comments, Nathan was out there feeding gossip sites like he’d hired them himself.

One headline read, “Love Rekindled! New Mafia Mogul Spotted Accompanying Former Flame to Private Hospital.”

Mafia mogul. Right.

So now, like everyone else, I had to learn about my relationship status through a C-list tabloid account I hated... and still followed. Shamefully. Just in case they posted more.

At first, I told myself he’d come around. That Nathan was a grown man—if he allowed Chloe back in his life, then he at least could give a clean ending, with maturity and honesty and respect.

But I overestimated him.

…

Another week passed. I was done waiting. So I tried to call Nathan again. It went straight to voicemail. No surprise.

I searched for the gossip page which had just posted another update.

Photos of Nathan leaving a Manhattan hotspot with arms full of takeout. Followed by shots of Chloe in a hospital bed—smiling, glowing, eating those takeout.

My mind wandered to an old memory. There was a time I had a 102-degree fever that wouldn’t break. I asked him to take me to the hospital.

His answer? “I’m too busy with the casino. If it’s that bad, I’ll send a driver.”

It was his personal guard, Jake, who ended up helping me that night.

And now he’s out here reserving an entire hospital for Chloe. Ordering food from five-star places. Playing the doting hero.

…

I went to the hospital. The same one mentioned in the article. A few of Nathan’s guards stood out front, guarding like this was the white house.

They recognized me. One raised an eyebrow.

“Nathan called me,” I said.

A lie. But they didn’t question it. They let me through.

I was almost at the door when I heard her laugh.

Chloe’s voice carried down the hall, light and flirtatious, with that soft, mocking tone. The one that made you feel like she knew something you didn’t.

“Don’t mock me, Nathan,” she said, laughter still in her voice. “Seriously, just tell me—do you love Emily?”

My heart stilled.

It was a simple question. I’d asked myself the same a thousand times.

Nathan’s voice followed, calm. Sure. “Of course not. I told you—there’s only one woman I’ll ever love. And it’s you. Always you.”

I remembered the night he proposed—how he looked me in the eyes and said, “I love you, Emily. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Now? Of course not.

It was a joke. I was a joke. It was almost rude of me to interrupt them. But I’d come this far.

I waited a moment for the laughter inside the room to die down. Then I knocked. I didn’t wait for an answer. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Nathan looked up, startled to see me. His brows knit together.

Chloe, on the other hand, was perfectly composed. She looked like she’d been expecting me all along. Her smile stretched wider. “Emily?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m Nathan’s fiancée. Emily.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” she said sweetly, “Thank you for taking care of Nathan all these years.”

Taking care of Nathan? She made it sound like I was just a helping hand.

I smiled, even as the burn hit my throat, and turned my eyes toward Nathan. “You haven’t come home in days. How are Miss Reed’s condition? I hope it was not too bad.”

He stood quickly, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the room like I was about to ruin something fragile and precious.

His grip was tight. “What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me?”

“I am just worried about you and her. You two left the other day, Chloe didn’t look so well.”

“Her condition was not so good. If you care about her, you should understand that showing up like this could hurt her. She’s fragile, Emily.”

I let them sit for a beat before I answered, lifting my chin. “So Chloe’s fragile, and the entire world is supposed to rearrange itself around her?”

I took a breath, slow and deliberate. “What if I was fragile too, Nathan? Have you ever considered that?”

Funny, isn’t it? Chloe Reed has a heart condition. But so do I. Mine’s congenital—an underdeveloped valve I’ve lived with since birth.

But I never told Nathan. I didn’t want to be the girl who needed saving.

I wanted to be his equal, strong and dependable. Apparently, I succeeded a little too well.