Chapter 4

“Alia!”

She stopped mid-step and turned to Rhea. “What? You need my help now ‘cause you can’t get up by yourself?” she said, her tone flat and unbothered.

Rhea’s eyes flared with quiet anger, but she quickly masked it, forcing a pitiful expression back on her face.

“I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me. Please, Alia, forgive me.”

Alia rolled her eyes but crouched down anyway, taking Rhea’s hand and helping her up. Just as Rhea was halfway standing, she deliberately loosened her grip, pretending to stumble—hoping to make Alia look bad.

But Alia was quicker. She caught Rhea before she could hit the floor again, pulling her up and closer until their faces were just inches apart. To onlookers, it looked like Alia was helping Rhea stand and offering comfort.

But their whispers told a very different story.

Alia tilted her head slightly, resting her chin near Rhea’s shoulder as if consoling her. Her voice was a soft, venomous whisper.

“Rhea, don’t even think about setting me up. Trust me, you don’t want to see yourself trapped in a mess you can’t crawl out of.”

Rhea’s jaw tightened. Her body trembled, not from fear—but from rage.

“How dare you threaten me? Alia, compared to me, you’re nothing. I’m smarter—and besides, Jasper will make sure nothing ever taints my reputation. So maybe you should take your own advice.”

Alia smiled faintly and released her hold, raising both hands in mock surrender.

“Okay. You do you.”

With that, she turned away, walking back to her seat. She picked up her glass of wine and took a slow sip, her movements poised and elegant—like nothing ever happened.

Seeing Alia calm as a cucumber made Rhea’s irritation flare. Aside from annoyance, there was also something else — something strange — that she couldn’t quite name when she saw Alia like that.

According to the private investigator she’d hired, Alia was supposed to be timid, soft-spoken, and possibly naïve — a girl who grew up in a quiet nunnery somewhere in the countryside. So it felt off seeing her so composed and confident all of a sudden.

Rhea narrowed her eyes, studying Alia intently as she sat down across from her.

When Alia finished her glass of wine, an idea suddenly crossed Rhea’s mind — one that made her lips curl into a smirk.

With a practiced, honeyed smile, she spoke. “Alia,” she said sweetly, “let’s make a toast — to our new friendship.”

Alia lifted her gaze, meeting Rhea’s eyes. She didn’t say a word, only observed the cunning woman across from her.

Since Alia didn’t object, Rhea took it as a silent yes. Grinning, she stood up and went to pour two glasses of wine.

When she returned, Alia was still sitting quietly, alone and unreadable.

Rhea set a glass in front of her and took her seat again. “Alia,” she said with feigned sincerity, “I hope you can forgive and forget whatever differences we had. Let’s start fresh — as friends.”

Alia’s eyes stayed fixed on her, as if searching for something in Rhea’s expression. She said nothing. Instead, she picked up the wine glass, lifted it slightly, and smiled faintly.

Rhea’s grin widened. “I knew you couldn’t resist my charm. Come on, cheers!”

She clinked her glass lightly and took a sip, keeping her eyes on Alia the whole time. A subtle smirk tugged at her lips as she watched Alia raise her glass.

Alia slowly brought the rim close to her lips — but stopped just before the wine touched them. Her smile turned gentle, almost sweet.

“Rhea, I’m sorry,” she said softly, “but could you get me some chocolate cake before I drink this? I suddenly felt hungry.”

Rhea’s smirk faltered, replaced instantly by a tight smile. “Yeah… sure, of course. Let me get you some cake.”

When Rhea left, Alia’s calm expression vanished. Her hands moved quickly — she wiped the rim of her glass clean and quietly switched it with Rhea’s.

She already knew the wine Rhea had offered her was drugged.

Memories from her past life flashed before her eyes — the moment she’d foolishly accepted Rhea’s toast. She could still remember how her body had begun to heat up, her vision spinning, and her limbs weakening. Panic had clawed at her chest as she realized something was terribly wrong.

It wasn’t just betrayal — it was cruelty.

Rhea had pretended to help her then, leading her away from the crowded wedding reception toward a private suite, claiming she had called Jasper for assistance.

But that was the worst lie of all.

Jasper never came. Instead, someone else did — someone Rhea had called. A man sent not to help her, but to humiliate and r*pe her.

After that night, her world shattered.

The next morning, her name dominated every headline — scandal, disgrace, humiliation.

And right there, under the blinding flashes of paparazzi cameras, Jasper slapped her. Once, twice—five times in total—each one echoing louder than the last.

She could still remember the sting on her cheek, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her chest.

Jasper’s fury and Joana’s cold accusations rained down on her in public, while the crowd watched, whispering, judging. And through it all, Rhea stood at the side — smiling faintly, eyes gleaming with triumph, as if savoring every moment of her downfall.

That image burned into Alia’s memory.

The laughter. The shame. The betrayal.

Even now, Alia could still remember the cold terror and helpless rage that followed. The shame Rhea had orchestrated became a nightmare that haunted her until her final breath.

But not this time.

This time, she wouldn’t fall into the same trap.

Her lips curved into a quiet, knowing smile as she placed the switched glass back in front of Rhea — just in time for the woman to return.

Rhea returned, carrying a small plate of chocolate cake. She placed it in front of Alia with that same bright, rehearsed smile.

“Thanks, Rhea,” Alia said, her tone light and polite.

She picked up the fork and took a slow bite, savoring the bittersweet taste that melted on her tongue.

Across from her, Rhea sat down again and raised her glass. “Alia, let’s do it again. Cheers!”

Alia mirrored her gesture, gently clinking her glass against Rhea’s before lifting it to her lips.

Both women drank.

When Alia set her empty glass on the table, Rhea’s heart fluttered with excitement. She could barely hide the gleam in her eyes. Finally. Just a few more minutes and—

Alia’s body swayed slightly. Her head drooped forward until she leaned onto the table, motionless—like she had fainted.

Rhea bit her lower lip, suppressing a triumphant laugh. Everything was going exactly as planned.